strong and their neighbours weak, they did so most of all. But now
come; we must look after the linen that is bleaching on the green."

As they turned their backs upon the stables, and were going towards the
grassy hill on the left of the house, they heard the rapid hoof-beats
of a horse, which was approaching on the old Roman high-road.

Athalwin climbed quickly to the top of the hill and looked towards the
road.

A rider, mounted on an immense brown charger, galloped down the woody
heights towards the villa. Brightly sparkled his helmet and the point
of the lance, which he carried across his shoulder.

"It is father, mother; it is father!" cried the boy, and ran swift as
an arrow down the hill to meet the rider.

Rauthgundis had just now reached the top of the hill. Her heart beat.
She shaded her eyes with her hand, to look into the evening-red; then
she said in a low happy voice:

"Yes, it is he! my husband."

CHAPTER V.

Meanwhile Athalwin had already reached his father and climbed up his
knee, clinging to his foot.

The rider lifted him up with a loving hand, set him before him in the
saddle, and spurred his horse into a gallop. The noble animal, once the
charger of Theodoric, neighed lustily as he recognised his home and his
mistress, and shook his flowing mane.

The rider now reached the hill, and dismounted with the boy.

"My dear wife!" he exclaimed, embracing her tenderly.

"My Witichis!" she answered, blushing with pleasure, and clinging to
him; "welcome home!"

"I promised that I would come before the new moon--it was
difficult----"

"But thou hast kept thy word, as always."

"My heart drew me here," he said, putting his arm around her.

They went on slowly to the house.

"It seems, Athalwin, that Wallada is of more consequence to thee than
thy father," said Witichis, smiling, to the boy, who was leading the
horse carefully after them.

"No, father; but give me the lance too--I have not often such a
pleasure in this country life;" and dragging the long, heavy shaft of
the spear after him with difficulty, he cried out: "Eh! Wachis,
Ansbrand! father has come! Fetch the skin of Falernian from the cellar.
Father is thirsty after his rapid ride!"

With a smile Witichis stroked the golden curls of the boy, who now
hurried past them to the house.

"Well, and how does all go on here?" asked Witichis, looking at
Rauthgundis.

"Very well, Witichis. The ha