Shortly afterwards Johannes again appeared, accompanied by his brother Perseus and about thirty brave Armenian mercenaries, who carried, besides their swords, short battle-axes.

"As soon as we are inside, Perseus," said Johannes, "you must break open the sally-port to the right of the Porta Capuana at the moment when the others unfold our flag upon the walls. At this signal my Huns, who wait outside, will rush into the sally-port. But who keeps the tower at the gate? Him we must have."

"Isaac, a great friend of the Edomites. He must die!"

"He dies!" said Johannes, and drew his sword. "Forward!"

He was the first to enter the passage of the aqueduct.

"Paukares and Gubazes, take the Jew between you. At the first suspicion, down with him!"

And so, now creeping on all fours, now stooping and cautiously feeling their way, in complete obscurity, the Armenians slid and crept after Johannes, taking care not to make any noise with their weapons.

All at once Johannes cried in a low voice:

"Hold the Jew! down with him! Enemies! Arms! No, no; let him alone!" he added quickly. "It was only a snake that rustled past me. Forward!"

"Now to the right," said the Jew; "here the passage leads into the temple."

"What lies here?--bones?--a skeleton! I can bear it no longer! The mouldy smell suffocates me! Help!" sighed one of the men.

"Let him lie! Forward!" ordered Johannes. "I see a star!"

"It is the daylight in Neapolis," said Jochem; "only a few steps more."

Johannes's helmet struck against the roots of a tall olive-tree, which spread over the mouth of the passage in the atrium of the temple. We know this tree. As he avoided the roots, Johannes struck his helmet with a loud jingle against the side wall; he stopped short in alarm. But he only heard the rapid flutter of the wings of numerous pigeons which flew startled out of the branches of the olive-tree.

"What was that?" said a hoarse voice above him. "How the wind howls in the old ruins!"

It was the widow Arria.

"O God!" she cried, kneeling before the cross, "deliver us from evil! Let not the city fall until my Jucundus returns! Alas! if he does not find his mother! Oh, let him again come the way he went that unhappy day, when he descended into the secret labyrinth to seek the hidden treasure! Show him to me as I saw him last night in my dream, rising up from below the roots of the tree!"

And she turned to look at the hole.

"O dark passage! into which my happiness disappeared, give it up to me again! God! by this way lead him back to me."

She stood exactly before the opening with folded hands, her eyes piously raised to heaven.

Johannes hesitated as he issued from the hole and perceived her.

"She prays," he murmured. "Shall I kill her whilst praying!"

He waited; he hoped that she would turn away.

"It lasts too long! God knows I cannot help it!"

And he got quickly out from among the roots.

The old woman now raised her half-blind eyes; she saw a glittering form rise from the earth. A ray of ecstasy flashed across her features. She spread out her arms.

"Jucundus!" she cried.

It was her last breath.

The sword of the Byzantine had pierced her heart.

Without a cry, a smile upon her lips, she sank down amid the flowers; Miriam's flowers.

Johannes turned and quickly helped up his brother Perseus, and then the Jew and the first three soldiers.

"Where is the sally-port?"

"Here to the left. I will go and open it!"

Perseus directed the soldiers.

"Where are the steps to the tower?"

"Here on the right," answered Jochem--it was the staircase which led to Miriam's chamber--how often had Totila slipped in there! "Be quiet! I hear the old man."

It was really Isaac.

He had heard the noise from above; he came to the top of the steps with his torch and spear.

"Who is it down there? is it thou, Miriam? who comes?" he asked.

"I, Father Isaac," answered Jochem; "I wished once more to ask----" and he stealthily went up another step.

But Isaac heard the rattle of arms.

"Who is with thee!" he asked, advancing and holding out his torch. He now saw the armed men crouching behind Jochem.

"Treachery! treachery!" he screamed; "die, thou blot upon the Hebrews!" and he furiously struck his broad partisan into Jochem's heart, who could not retreat.

Jochem fell dead among the soldiers.

"Treachery!" again cried Isaac.

But the next moment Johannes struck him down, sprang over his corpse, hurried to the ramparts, and unfolded the flag of Byzantium.

Below the axes were busy; the sally-port fell, beaten down from within, and with shrill cries--it was already quite dark--the Huns rushed by thousands into the city.

All was over.

A portion filled the streets with carnage; one troop broke open the nearest gates, letting in their comrades from outside.

Old Uliaris, with his little troop, hurried from the castle; he hoped to drive the intruders out; in vain; a spear was hurled which felled him to the ground.

And round his corpse fell, fighting bravely, the two hundred faithful Goths who yet surrounded him.

Then, when they saw the imperial banner waving on the walls, the citizens of Neapolis arose. Led by old friends to the Romans, such as Stephanus and Antiochus the Syrian--Castor, a zealous friend of the Goths, had lost his life in attempting to hold them back--they disarmed the single Goths in the streets, and sent an embassy with thanks, congratulations, and petitions for mercy on the city to Belisarius, who, surrounded by his brilliant staff, now rode into the Porta Capuana.

But he bent his majestic brow gloomily, and, without checking his charger, answered:

"Neapolis has checked my progress for fifteen days, else I had already been before Rome, even before Ravenna. How much do you think this delay has robbed the Emperor of his right, and me of fame? For fifteen days your cowardice and ill-will has caused you to be governed by a handful of barbarians. The punishment for these fifteen days shall be only fifteen hours of--pillage. Without murder; the inhabitants are the Emperor's prisoners of war; without fire, for the city is a fortress of Byzantium. Where is the leader of the Goths? Dead?"

"Yes," answered Johannes, "here is his sword. Earl Ularis fell."

"I do not mean him!" said Belisarius; "I mean the young one; Totila. What has become of him? I must have him."

"Sir," said one of the Neapolitans, a rich merchant named Asklepiodot, "if you will exempt my house and magazines from pillage, I will tell you where he is."

But Belisarius made a sign, and two Moorish lancers took hold of the trembling man.

"Rebel, do you make conditions to me? Speak! or torture shall unloose your tongue!"

"Have pity! mercy!" cried the man. "During the armistice, Totila went out with a few horsemen to fetch reinforcements from the Castle of Aurelian. They may return at any moment."

"Johannes," cried Belisarius, "that man is worth all Neapolis. We must take him! Have you, as I ordered, blocked the way to Rome, and manned the gate?"

"In that direction no one can have left the city," said Johannes.

"Away! At once! We must entice him in! Let the Gothic banner fly from the Castle of Tiberius and from the Porta Capuana. Send armed Neapolitans upon the walls; he who warns Totila, even were it only with a wink of his eye, dies! Arm my bodyguard with Gothic weapons. I will be there myself. Place three hundred men in the neighbourhood of the gate. Let Totila quietly in. As soon as he has passed the portcullis, let it fall. I will have him alive. He shall not be wanting at the triumph in Byzantium!"

"Give me the office, general," begged Johannes; "I owe him a return for an ill stroke."

And he rushed back to the Porta Capuana, ordered the corpses and all trace of combat to be removed, and took his further measures.

As the men were busy obeying his orders, a veiled figure forced its way among them.

"For the good God's sake," begged a sweet voice, "let me get to him! I will only see his body--oh, take care! Oh, my father! my father!"

It was Miriam, who had hastened home terrified by the noise made by the plundering Huns. With the strength of despair she pushed back the spears and took Isaac's grey head into her arms.

"Get away, girl!" said the soldier next to her, a very tall Bajuvar, a mercenary of Byzantium; his name was Garizo. "Do not hinder us! we must make the way clear. Into the grave with the Jew!"

"No, no!" cried Miriam, and pushed the man back.

"Woman!" he cried angrily, and lifted his axe.

But, spreading her arms protectingly over her father's body, and with sparkling eyes, the girl fearlessly stood her ground. The soldier suddenly fell back as if paralysed.

"Thou hast a bold heart, girl!" he cried, dropping his axe, "and thou art as beautiful as the wood-nymph of the Liusacha! What can I do for thee? Thou art wonderful to look at."

"If the God of my fathers has touched thy heart," said Miriam in her pathetic voice, "help me to hide the body in the garden there--he has long since dug his own grave near Sarah, my mother--with his face to the east."

"It shall be done," said the Bajuvar, and obeyed her.

She carried the head, he the knees of the corpse. A few steps took them into the little garden; there, under a weeping-willow, lay a stone; the man pushed it away, and they laid the corpse in the grave, with its face to the east.

Miriam looked into the grave without a word, without a tear; she felt so forsaken, so lonely. The Bajuvar softly pushed the stone back into its place, filled with compassion.

"Come!" he said.

"Whither?" asked Miriam in a low voice.

"Well, whither wilt thou go?"

"I do not know. I thank thee," she said, and took an amulet from her neck and gave it to him. It was made of gold, a coin from the Jordan, from the Temple.

"No!" said the man, and shook his head.

He took her hand, and pressed it to his eyes.

"So," he said, "that will do me good all my life long. Now I must go; we must catch the Earl Totila. Farewell."

That name went to Miriam's heart. She cast one more look at the quiet grave, and then slipped quickly out of the garden.

She wished to go through the gate on to the highroad, but the portcullis was down, and at the gate stood men with Gothic helmets and shields. She looked about her in surprise.

"Is all ready, Chanaranzes?" said a voice.

"All; he is as good as taken!"

"Hark! before the walls! horses trampling! It is they! Back, woman!"

Outside, a few horsemen were seen trotting towards the gate.

"Open, open the gate!" cried Totila from a distance.

Thorismuth rode up to him.

"I don't know how it is, I have no confidence," he cried. "The road was so quiet, and so was the enemy's camp out there; scarcely a few watch-fires were burning."

From the ramparts came a flourish of the Gothic horn.

"How horribly the fellow blows!" cried Thorismuth angrily.

"It must be an Italian," said Totila.

"Give the watch-word," was called from the walls in Latin.

"Neapolis!" cried Totila. "Dost thou hear? Uliaris has been obliged to arm the citizens. Open the gate! I bring good news," he called to the men above. "Four hundred Goths follow at my heels, and Italy has a new king."

"Which is he!" asked some one inside, in a low voice.

"He on the white horse, the first one."

The gate was flung wide open; Gothic helmets filled the entrance; torches shone; voices whispered.

"Up with the portcullis!" cried Totila, riding up. Thorismuth looked anxiously before him, shading his eyes with his hand.

"They assembled yesterday at Regeta," Totila began again. "Theodahad is deposed, and Earl Witichis----"

The portcullis was slowly raised, and Totila was just about to give his horse the spur, when a woman rushed from the row of soldiers, and cast herself before the animal's hoofs.

"Fly!" she cried. "The enemy is before you! the city is taken!"

But she could not finish; a lance penetrated her heart.

"Miriam!" cried Totila, horrified, and checked his horse.

But Thorismuth, who was close behind, and who had long been suspicious, now reached his arm past the grating, and separated the rope which held the portcullis up with his sword, so that the portcullis fell with a loud crash just in front of Totila.

A hail of spears and arrows flew through the portcullis.

"Up with the portcullis!" cried Johannes from within. "Out! Upon them!"

But Totila did not move.

"Miriam! Miriam!" he cried in great grief.

Once more she opened her eyes, with a dying look of love and pain. That look told everything; it pierced Totila's heart.

"For thee!" she sighed, and fell back.

He forgot Neapolis, danger, and death.

"Miriam!" he cried again, and stretched out both his hands.

An arrow touched his horse's flank; the noble animal reared. The portcullis began to rise. Thorismuth caught Totila's bridle, wrenched his horse round, and gave it such a stroke with the flat of his sword, that it galloped away like the wind.

"Up and away, sir!" he cried, rushing after Totila. "They must be speedy who would overtake us!"

And the riders flew back on the Via Capuana, the way that they had come. Not far behind followed Johannes, ignorant of the way, and confused by the darkness of the night.

Totila's party presently met with the garrison of the Castle of Aurelian, which was marching towards Neapolis.

They all halted together upon a hill, whence they could see the city and the ramparts, partially illuminated by the Byzantine watch-fires on the walls.

Only then did Totila recover from his grief and consternation.

"Farewell, Miriam!" he sighed. "Farewell, Uliaris! Neapolis, I shall see thee again!"

And he gave orders to march forward to Rome.

But from this hour a shadow fell upon the soul of the young Goth. Miriam, with the holy right of suffering, had buried herself in his heart for ever.

When Johannes returned from his fruitless pursuit, and sprang from his horse, he cried in a furious voice: "Where is the girl who warned him? Throw her to the dogs!" And he hurried away to Belisarius, to report the mishap.

But no one could tell how the lovely corpse had disappeared. The horses had trampled it beyond recognition, thought the crowd.

But one knew better--Garizo, the Bajuvar.

He had borne her away from the tumult in his strong arms like a sleeping child; had carried her into the little garden, had lifted the stone from the scarcely-covered grave, and had laid the daughter carefully by her father's side.

Then he stood still and contemplated her features. In the distance sounded the tumult from the plundered town, in which the Huns of Belisarius, in spite of his command, burned and murdered, and did not even spare the churches, until the general himself, rushing amongst them with his drawn sword, put a stop to the cruel work of destruction.

Such a noble expression lay upon Miriam's dead face, that Garizo did not dare to kiss it, as he so much longed to do. So he placed her with her face to the east, gathered a rose which was blooming near the grave, and laid it upon her breast.

He wished to take part in the pillage, but he could not leave the place; he turned back again. And all the night long, leaning on his sword, he kept watch over the grave of the beauteous girl.

He looked up at the stars and repeated an ancient blessing on the dead, which his mother had taught him in his home on the Liusacha. But that did not satisfy him; he added a Christian paternoster.

And when the sun rose, he carefully placed the stone over the grave and went away.

Thus Miriam had disappeared without leaving a trace behind.

But in Neapolis the people, who in secret were faithful to Totila, told how his guardian angel had descended to save him, and had then reascended to heaven.