It was at this time that Miriam experienced the greatest joy and the keenest sorrow that she had ever known.

She could sun herself more frequently than ever in the presence of the man she loved, for the Porta Capuana was an important point of the fortifications, and Totila was obliged to visit it often. He daily held conferences with Earl Uliaris in old Isaac's tower.

At such times Miriam, when she had greeted the guests, and served the simple meal of fruit and wine, used to slip into the narrow little garden which lay close under the walls of the tower.

This place had been, originally, a small court belonging to an ancient Temple of Minerva, the "wall-protectress," to whom altars had been gratefully erected at the principal gates of various towns.

The altar had disappeared centuries ago, but the gigantic olive-tree, which had once shaded the statue dedicated to the goddess, still stretched its boughs aloft, while flowers, cherished by Miriam's loving hand, and which she had often plucked for the bride of the man whom she hopelessly loved, filled the air with perfume.

Exactly opposite the tree, whose knotted roots protruded from the earth, disclosing a dark opening in the ground-floor of the old temple, there had been placed a large black cross, and below it a little praying stool, which was made out of one of the marble steps of the temple.

The Christians loved to subject the remains of the ancient worship to the service of the new, and to drive out the old gods, now become demons, by the symbols of their victorious faith.

The beautiful Jewess often sat for hours under this cross with old Arria, the half-blind widow of the under doorkeeper, who, after the early death of Isaac's wife, had, with motherly love, watched little Miriam bloom together with her flowers amid the desolate ruins of the old walls.

Twice a day did Uliaris and Totila thus meet; reporting their losses or successes and examining the probability of saving the city.

But on the tenth day of the siege, before dawn, Uliaris hastened on board Totila's "admiral" ship, a rotten fishing-boat, and found the commander sleeping on deck, covered by a ragged sail.

"What is it!" cried Totila, starting up and still dreaming; "the enemy? where?"

"No, my boy; this time it is again Uliaris, and not Belisarius, who awakens thee. But, by the Thunderer! this cannot last much longer!"

"Uliaris, thou bleedest! thy head is bandaged!"

"Bah! 'twas but a stray arrow! Fortunately no poisoned one. I got it last night. Thou must know that things are at a bad pass; much worse than ever before. The bloody Johannes--may God slay him!--digs under our Castle Tiberius like a badger, and if he gets that--then farewell, Neapolis! Yester even he finished a battery upon the hill above us, and now he throws burning arrows upon our heads. I tried last night to drive him out of his works, but it was no use. They were seven to one against us, and I gained nothing by it but this wound on my grey head."

"The battery must come down," said Totila reflectively.

"The devil it must! but it will not! I have still more to tell. The citizens begin to get unruly. Belisarius daily shoots a hundred blunt arrows into the city, to which is tied the inscription: 'Rebel for freedom!' They have more effect than a thousand pointed darts. Already, here and there, stones are cast from the roofs upon my poor fellows. If this goes on--we cannot, with a thousand men, keep off forty thousand Greeks outside and thirty thousand Neapolitans inside. Therefore I think--" and his eyes looked very gloomy.

"What thinkest thou?"

"We will burn down a portion of the city--at least the suburbs----"

"So that the inhabitants may like us all the better? No, Uliaris, they shall not have cause to call us 'barbarians.' I know of better means--they are starving; yesterday I brought in four shiploads of oil, com, and wine; this I will divide amongst them."

"Oil and corn if thou wilt! But not the wine! That I claim for my Goths. They have drunk cistern-water long enough, the nasty stuff!"

"Good, thirsty hero, you shall have the wine for yourselves."

"Well? and still no news from Ravenna, or from Rome?"

"None! Yesterday I sent off my fifth messenger."

"May God destroy our King! Listen, Totila, I don't believe we shall ever get alive out of these worm-eaten walls."

"Nor I either," said Totila quietly, and offered his guest a cup of wine.

Uliaris looked at him; then he drank and said:

"Dear fellow! thou art pure as gold, and thy CÆcubian too. And if I must die here, like an old bear amongst the dogs--I am at least glad that I have learned to know thee so well; thee and thy CÆcubian."

With this rough but friendly speech the grey old Goth left the ship.

Totila sent corn and wine to the garrison in the castle, with which the soldiers regaled themselves far into the night.

But the next morning, when Uliaris looked forth from the tower of the castle, he rubbed his eyes. For on the battery upon the hill waved the blue flag of the Goths.

Totila had landed in the night in the rear of the enemy, and had taken the works by storm.

But this new act of audacity only increased the anger of Belisarius. He swore to make an end of the troublesome boats at any price. To his great joy the four triremes from Sicily just then appeared in the offing. Belisarius ordered that they should at once force their way into the harbour of Neapolis, and spoil the handiwork of "those pirates." On the evening of the same day the four immense ships cast anchor at the entrance of the harbour. Belisarius himself visited the coast with his followers, and rejoiced at the sight of the sails, gilded by the evening sun.

"The rising sun shall see them inside the harbour, in spite of that bold youth," he said to Antonina, who accompanied him, and turned his dappled-greys back to the camp.

The next morning he had not yet left his camp-bed--Procopius was standing near him, reading the sketch of a report to Justinian--when Chanaranzes, the Persian, the leader of the body-guard, entered the tent, and cried: "The ships, general! the ships are taken!"

Belisarius sprang from his couch in a rage.

"He dies who says it!"

"It would be better," observed Procopius, "that he should die who did it!"

"Who was it?"

"Oh, sir, the young Goth with the sparkling eyes and shining hair!"

"Totila!" exclaimed Belisarius, "Totila, again!"

"The crew were lying, partly on shore with my outposts, partly on deck, sound asleep. Suddenly, at midnight, all around became as lively as if a hundred ships had risen out of the sea."

"A hundred ships! Ten nutshells!"

"In a moment, long before we could come to their help from the shore, the ships were boarded, the crews taken prisoners, one of the triremes, whose cable could not be cut quickly enough, set on fire, and the others towed off to Neapolis!"

"Your ships have entered the harbour sooner than you expected, O Belisarius," observed Procopius.

But Belisarius had recovered his self-control.

"Now that the bold boy has ships of war, he will become unbearable! There must be an end to this."

He pressed his helmet upon his majestic head.

"I would willingly have spared the city and the Roman inhabitants; but I can wait no longer. Procopius, go and summon the generals; Magnus, Demetrius and Constantinus, Bessas and Ennes, and Martinus, the master of artillery; I will give them enough to do. The barbarians shall not rejoice in their victory; they shall learn to know Belisarius."

Shortly there appeared in the tent of the commander a man who, in spite of the breast-plate which he wore, had more the air of a scholar than of a warrior.

Martinus, the great mathematician, was of a gentle, peaceful nature, which had long found its sole happiness in the quiet study of Euclid. He could not bear to see blood flow, and was even sorry to pluck a flower. But his mathematical and mechanical studies had one day accidentally led him to invent a new projectile of fearful power. He showed the plan to Belisarius, and he, delighted, would not let him alone, but dragged him before the Emperor, and obliged him to become "master of artillery to the magister militum, for the East"--namely, the assistant of Belisarius himself. He received a splendid salary, and was obliged by contract to invent one new machine of war yearly.

Then the gentle mathematician, with many sighs, invented those terrible tools of destruction which overthrew the walls of fortresses, shattered the gates of castles, hurled inextinguishable fire into the towns of Justinian's enemies, and destroyed human lives by thousands.

Every year Martinus delighted in the mathematical problems which he set himself to do; but as soon as the riddle was solved and the work completed, he thought with horror of the effects of his inventions. Therefore he now appeared before Belisarius with a sorrowful countenance.

"Martinus! circle-turner!" cried Belisarius as he entered, "now show your art! How many catapults, balistÆ, and sling-machines have we in all?"

"Three hundred and fifty, general."

"'Tis well! Divide them along our whole line of siege. In the north, before the Porta Capuana and the castle, set the rams against the walls; down they must come, were they made of diamonds! From the central camp direct the projectiles in a curve, so that they may fall into the streets of the city. Make every effort; do not cease a moment for twenty-four hours; let the troops relieve each other; let all the machines play!"

"All, general?" asked Martinus. "The new ones too? The pyrobalistÆ, the hot projectiles?"

"Those too; those most of all!"

"General, they are horrible! You do not yet know their effect."

"Well, I shall now see what it is, and put them to the proof."

"Upon this splendid city? On the Emperor's city? Will you win for Justinian a heap of ashes?"

Belisarius had a great and noble soul. He was angry with himself, with Martinus, and with the Goths.

"Can I do otherwise?" he asked impatiently. "These stiff-necked Goths, this foolhardy Totila, force me to it. Five times have I offered capitulation. It is madness! Not three thousand men stand behind these walls! By the head of Justinian! why do not the fifty thousand Neapolitans rise and disarm the barbarians?"

"No doubt they fear your Huns more than their Goths," observed Procopius.

"They are bad patriots! Forward, Martinus! In an hour Neapolis must burn!"

"In a shorter time," sighed the mathematician, "if it must be so. I have brought with me a man who is well-informed; who can help us much, and simplify the work. He is a living plan of the city. May I bring him in?"

Belisarius nodded, and the sentry called in a little Jewish-looking man.

"Ah! Jochem, the architect!" said Belisarius. "I knew you at Byzantium. You were to rebuild the church of St. Sophia. What became of that project?"

"By your leave, general, nothing."

"Why not?"

"My plan only amounted to a million centenaria of gold; that was too little for his Imperial Majesty. For the more a Christian church costs, the more holy and pleasing to God. A Christian asked double the amount, and got the order."

"But still I saw you building in Byzantium?"

"Yes, general, my plan pleased the Emperor. I changed it a little, took out the altar-place, and afterwards built from it a riding-school."

"You know Neapolis thoroughly--outside and inside?"

"Outside and inside--as well as my moneybag."

"'Tis well. You will direct the machines for the strategist against the walls and into the city. The houses of the friends of the Goths must come down first. Forward! Mind and do your business well, or else you will be impaled! Away!"

"The poor city!" sighed Martinus. "But you will see, Jochem, how exact are the pyrobalistÆ; and they work so easily, a child could manage them. And they act so splendidly!"

And now in all the camp began a monstrous and danger-pregnant activity.

The Gothic sentinels upon the ramparts saw how the heavy machines, drawn by twenty to thirty horses, camels, asses, or oxen, were brought before the walls, and divided along the whole line.

Totila and Uliaris went anxiously to the walls and tried to meet this new danger with effectual means of defence.

Sacks filled with earth were let down before the places threatened by the rams; firebrands were laid ready to set the machines on fire as they approached; boiling water, arrows, and stones were to be directed against the teams and drivers; and already the Goths laughed at the cowardly enemy when they noticed that the machines halted far out of the usual range of shot, and completely out of the reach of the besieged.

But Totila did not laugh.

He was alarmed to see the Byzantines quietly unharness the teams and arrange their machines. Not a projectile had yet been hurled.

"Well," mocked young Agila, who stood near Totila, "do they mean to shoot at us from that distance? They had better do it at once from Byzantium, across the sea! That would be still safer!"

He had not ceased to speak, when a forty-pound stone knocked him, and a portion of the rampart upon which he stood, to pieces.

Martinus had increased the range threefold.

Totila saw that they were completely without defence against these terrible projectiles.

The Goths sprang horrified from the walls, and sought shelter in the streets, houses, and churches. In vain! Thousands and thousands of arrows, spears, heavy beams, and stones hurtled and hissed in infallible curves upon their heads; whole blocks of rock came flying through the air, and fell crashing through the woodwork and slabs of the strongest roofs; while in the north the rams thundered unceasingly against the castle with ponderous strokes.

While the thick hail of projectiles literally darkened the air, the noise of breaking beams, the rattling fall of stones, the shattering of the ramparts, and the cries of the wounded deafened the ear.

The trembling inhabitants fled terrified into the cellars and vaults of their houses, cursing both Belisarius and the Goths.

But the horrified city had not yet experienced the worst.

In the market-place, the Forum of Trajan, near the harbour, stood an uncovered building, a sort of ship's arsenal, heaped up with old, well-dried timber, tow, flax, tar, and other combustible materials. Into this building came, hissing and steaming, a strange projectile, and immediately a flame shot high into the air, and, fed by the inflammable materials, spread with the speed of the wind.

The besiegers outside greeted the pillars of smoke which now arose with cries of exultation, and directed arrows and darts upon the place, to prevent the inhabitants from extinguishing the fire.

Belisarius rode up to Martinus.

"Capital, man of the circle!" he cried. "Capital! Who aimed the shot?"

"I," said Jochem. "Oh! you will be satisfied with me, general. Now, pay attention. Do you see that large house with the statues upon the flat roof, to the right of the fire? That is the house of the Valerians, the greatest enemies of the people of Edom. Attention! It shall burn."

The fiery projectile flew hissing through the air, and immediately a second flame rose out of the city.

Just then Procopius galloped up and cried:

"Belisarius, your general, Johannes, greets you. The Castle of Tiberius burns, and the first wall is down!"

And such was the fact; and soon, in all parts of the city, four, six, ten houses were in flames.

"Water!" cried Totila, galloping through a burning street near the harbour. "Come out, you citizens of Neapolis! Extinguish your houses! I can spare no Goths from the walls. Get barrels of water from the harbour into all the streets! The women into the houses!--What do you want, girl? leave me.--Is it you, Miriam? You here--among the flames and arrows? Away! whom do you seek?"

"You," said the girl. "Do not be alarmed. Her house burns, but she is saved."

"Valeria! For God's sake, where is she?"

"With me. In our strong tower--there she is safe. I saw the flames. I hastened to the house. Your friend with the soft voice was carrying her out of the ruins; he wanted to take her into the church. I called to him, and persuaded him to bring her to the tower. She bleeds. A stone wounded her upon the shoulder, but there is no danger. She wishes to see you, and I came to seek you!"

"Thanks, child! But come, come away;" and he took hold of her arm, and swung her up to his saddle.

Trembling, she wound both arms about his neck. He held his broad shield over her head with his left hand, and galloped off with her through the smoking streets to the Porta Capuana.

"Oh! would that I might die now," murmured Miriam to herself; "now, upon his breast, if not with him!"

In the tower Totila found Valeria, stretched upon Miriam's bed, under the care of Julius and her female slaves. She was pale and weak from loss of blood, but composed and quiet.

Totila flew to her side. Miriam stood at the window with a beating heart, and looked silently at the burning city.

Totila had scarcely convinced himself that the wound was very slight, than he again sprang up and cried:

"You must go! Immediately! This very moment! In another hour Belisarius may storm the city. I have once more filled my ships with fugitives. They will take you to Cajeta, and thence to Rome. Afterwards you must hasten to TaginÆ to your estate. Julius will accompany you."

"Yes," said Julius, "for we go the same way."

"The same way? Whither art thou bound?"

"To Gaul, to my home. I cannot bear to see this terrible struggle any longer. You know well that all Italy has risen against you. My fellow-countrymen fight under Belisarius. Shall I raise my hand against them, or against you? I will go."

Totila turned silently to Valeria.

"My friend," she said, "it seems to me that our star has set for ever! Scarcely has my father gone to lay your oath at the throne of God, than Neapolis, the third city of the realm, falls."

"So you have no faith in our swords?"

"I have faith in your swords, but not in your good fortune! With the falling rafters of my father's house fall all my hopes. Farewell, for a long, long time! I obey you; I will go to TaginÆ."

Totila and Julius now went out with the slaves to secure places in one of the triremes.

Valeria rose from the bed; Miriam hurried to her to fasten the shining sandals upon her feet.

"Let it alone, maiden; you must not serve me!" said Valeria.

"I do it gladly," whispered Miriam; "but permit me a question." Her sparkling eyes were fixed upon Valeria's composed features. "You are beautiful and clever and proud--but tell me, do you love him? You are able to leave him at such a moment. Do you love him with devouring, irresistible ardour? do you love him with such a love as----"

"As yours?" Valeria pressed the lovely girl's glowing face to her bosom, as if in protection. "No, my sweet sister! Do not be startled. I guessed it long ago from his accounts of you. And I saw it at once in your first look at him to-day. Do not be anxious; your secret is safe with me. No one shall learn it. Do not weep, do not tremble, you sweet child. I love you the better for the sake of your love. I quite understand it. He is happy who, like you, can indulge his feelings at such a moment. But an inimical God has bestowed upon me a mind that ever looks forward, and so I see before us unknown pain and a long dark path which ends not in light. But I cannot allow you to think your love the more noble because it is hopeless. My hopes, too, are ashes! Perhaps it would have been happier for him had he discovered the scented rose of your love--for Valeria, I fear, will never be his! But farewell, Miriam. They come. Remember our meeting! Remember me as a sister, and take my warmest thanks. Thanks for your faithful love!"

Miriam had trembled like a child found out in a fault, and would have gladly run out of Valeria's sight, who seemed to see through everything. But these noble sentiments overcame her timidity, and tears flowed plentifully over her glowing cheeks. Trembling with shame and weeping, she leaned her head upon her new friend's breast. They heard Julius coming to call Valeria. They were obliged to part.

Miriam cast a rapid glance at the face of the Roman lady; and then she threw herself on the ground before her, embraced her knees, pressed a burning kiss upon her cold hand, and disappeared into the next room.

Valeria rose as if from a dream, and looked about her. In a vase on the window-sill stood a dark-red rose. Valeria kissed it, and put it into the bosom of her dress, blessed, with the motion of her hand, the place which had afforded her an asylum, and then followed Julius, who took her in a closed litter to the harbour, where she had time to take a short leave of Totila, before she went on board with Julius. Shortly afterwards the ship set sail, and moved proudly out of the harbour.

Totila looked after it. He saw Valeria's white hand signing a farewell. He looked and looked at the lessening sail, little heeding the projectiles which now began to fall thicker into the harbour. He leaned against a pillar, and, for a moment, forgot the burning town and everything around him.

Thorismuth roused him from his reverie.

"Come, commodore!" he cried. "I have been seeking thee everywhere. Uliaris wishes to speak to thee.--Come, why dost thou stand here, gazing at the sea among all these whizzing arrows?"

Totila slowly raised himself.

"Seest thou," he said, "seest thou yonder ship? There they leave me----"

"Who?" asked Thorismuth.

"My good-fortune and my youth," said Totila, and turned to seek Uliaris.

Uliaris told him that, in order to gain time, he had proposed an armistice of three hours, which Belisarius, who wished for a parley, had accepted.

"I will never capitulate! But we must have time to repair and strengthen our walls. Will reinforcements never come? Hast thou still no news from the King by sea?"

"None."

"The devil! Above six hundred of my Goths have fallen under these hellish projectiles. I cannot even fill the most important posts. If I had but four hundred men more!"

"Well," said Totila, reflecting, "I think I can procure thee these. In the Castellum Aurelium, on the road to Rome, lie four hundred and fifty men. Until now they have declared that they received from King Theodahad the unreasonable but strict order, on no account to aid in defending Neapolis. But in this, great necessity--I will go myself, during the armistice, and do all I can to bring them."

"Do not go! The truce will have ended before thy return, and then the road will be no longer safe. Thou canst not get through."

"I will get through by force or by cunning. Only keep firm until I am back. Up! Thorismuth, to horse!"

While Totila, with Thorismuth and a few horsemen, galloped out of the Porta Capuana, old Isaac, who had remained bravely on the walls without tiring, took advantage of the armistice to return to his house, see his daughter, and refresh himself with meat and wine.

As Miriam was bringing these, and anxiously listening to Isaac's report of the progress of the siege, a hasty and unsteady foot was heard upon the steps, and Jochem appeared before the astonished pair.

"Son of Rachel, whence comest thou in an evil hour, like a raven before misfortune? How couldst thou enter? By what door?"

"That is my affair. I come, Father Isaac, once more to demand thy daughter's hand--for the last time in my life."

"Is this a time for wooing and wedding?" asked Isaac indignantly. "The city burns, and the streets are full of corpses."

"Why does the city burn? Why are the streets full of corpses? Because the people of Neapolis hold by the people of Edom. Yes, this is the time to woo. Give me thy child. Father Isaac, and I will save thee and her. I alone can do so."

And he attempted to take Miriam's hand.

"Thou save me!" she cried, starting back in disgust. "Rather would I die!"

"Ha, proud girl!" cried the angry wooer; "thou wouldst be saved by the fair-haired Christian? Let us see if he can save thee--the cursed fellow!--from Belisarius and me. Ha! I will drag him through the streets by his long yellow hair, and spit in his pale face!"

"Get thee away, son of Rachel!" said Isaac, rising and taking up his spear. "I see thou art a friend of those who lie outside--the horn sounds the recall; I must go down. But this I tell thee: many amongst you will fall back dead before they can climb over these rotten walls."

"Perhaps," growled Jochem, "we shall fly over them, like the birds of the air. For the last time, Miriam, I ask thee: Wilt thou leave this old man and the cursed Christian? I tell thee the ruins of these walls will soon cover them. I know that thou hast taken the Goth to thy heart; but that I will forgive thee if only thou wilt be my wife."

And again he tried to take her hand.

"Thou wilt forgive me my love? Forgive what stands as high above thee as the sun above the creeping worm? Should I be worthy to look upon his face if I could become thy wife? Away! begone!"

"Ha!" cried Jochem, "too much! too much! My wife! Never shalt thou be my wife; but thou shalt struggle in my arms, and I will tear the Christian out of thy bleeding heart as it withers in despair! Thou shalt see me again!"

And he left the room, and soon disappeared from the precincts of the city.

Miriam, oppressed by anxious thoughts, hurried into the open air. She felt that she must pray; but not in the close synagogue. She would pray for him, and she would pray to his God. She shyly ventured into the neighbouring Basilica of St. Maria, whence, in peaceful times, the Jewess had often been driven with curses.

But now the Christians had no time to curse.

She crouched in a dark corner of the chancel, and soon forgot herself, the city, and the world, in fervent prayer.

She was alone with him and with God.

Meanwhile, the last hour of the armistice was drawing to a close. The sun already declined to the surface of the sea.

The Goths repaired and filled up the breaches of the walls with all diligence, carried away the rubbish and the dead, and extinguished the fires.

For the third time the sands of the hour-glass ran out, while Belisarius, in front of his tent and surrounded by his generals, was awaiting the signal of capitulation from the Castle of Tiberius.

"I don't believe in it," whispered Johannes to Procopius. "He who gives such blows as I have seen given by that old man will never surrender. And it is better so; then there will be a famous storming, and afterwards a famous plundering."

Earl Uliaris now appeared upon the ramparts of the castle, and hurled his spear defiantly among the waiting sentries.

Belisarius sprang up.

"The fools desire their own destruction! Well, they shall be gratified. Up, generals! to the attack! Whoever is the first to plant our standard on the walls shall have a tenth part of the booty!"

The leaders hurried away on all sides, spurred by avarice and ambition.

Johannes was just turning the ruined arch of an aqueduct, which Belisarius had destroyed in order to deprive the besieged of water, when he heard a low voice calling his name.

It was already so dark that he with difficulty recognised the man who had spoken.

"What do you want, Jew!" asked Johannes. "I have no time to lose. There is hard work to be done. I must be the first into the city."

"That you shall be, and without hard work, if you will follow me."

"Follow you? Do you know a way through the air over the walls?"

"No; but through the earth under the walls. And I will show it you if you give me a thousand solidi, and promise me a certain girl as booty."

Johannes stood still.

"You shall have what you like! Where is this way?"

"Here!" said Jochem, and struck the masonry with his hand.

"What? The aqueduct? How do you know?"

"I built it. A man can creep through it; there is no more water in it. I have just come this way out of the city. The passage leads into an old temple at the Porta Capuana. Take thirty men and follow me!"

Johannes looked sharply at him.

"And if you deceive me?"

"I will walk between your drawn swords. If I lie, kill me."

"Wait," cried Johannes, and hurried away.