As the woman turned in the direction of the sound, she stood for a moment with her back to the granaries. But she suddenly looked round, for she thought she heard the bang of a heavy door. She looked attentively in that direction, but it was too dark to see anything. She heard, however, something rustling along close to the outer wall of the building, and she thought she caught the sound of a low sigh.

"Stop!" she cried, "who moans there?"

"Peace, peace!" whispered a strange voice. "The earth--disgusted--shook and trembled! The last day has come--it will reveal all. He will soon know.--Oh!"

A groan of pain--a rustle of garments--then complete silence.

"Where art thou? Art thou wounded?" asked the woman, seeking on the ground.

A flash of lightning--the first since the earthquake--showed her a shrouded form lying at her feet. A woman dressed in white and blue.

The Gothic woman stretched out her hand, but the prostrate form sprang up at her touch, and, with a scream, disappeared into the darkness.

All this had passed rapidly, and seemed like some frightful dream, but a broad gold bracelet, ornamented with a green serpent in emeralds, remained in the Gothic woman's hand, a proof of the reality of the mysterious vision.

And again the iron steps of the Gothic patrol approached.

"Hildebad, Hildebad, help!" cried Wisand.

"I am here! What is the matter? Where shall I go?" asked Hildebad, advancing with his men.

"To the Gate of Honorius! The wall has fallen, and the tower of Ætius lies in ruins. Help! Into the breach!"

"I come! Poor, poor Fridugern!"

Outside, in the camp of the Byzantines, Cethegus the Prefect rushed into Belisarius's tent.

He was in full armour, his plume of crimson horsehair tossed upon his helm. His bearing was proud. His eyes flashed.

"Up! Why do you linger, Belisarius? The walls of your enemy's citadel fall of themselves! The last refuge of the last King of the Goths lies open before you! Why do you remain in your tent?"

"I adore the Almighty," said Belisarius with composure. Antonina stood near him, her arm about his neck.

A praying-stool and a tall crucifix showed in what occupation the stormy entrance of the Prefect had disturbed them.

"Do that to-morrow, after the victory. But now, storm the city!"

"Storm the city now?" cried Antonina. "What sacrilege! The earth is shaken to its foundations, for God the Lord speaks in this elemental strife!"

"Let Him speak! We will act. Belisarius, the tower of Ætius and a portion of the walls have fallen. I ask you, will you not storm the city?"

"He is not wrong," said Belisarius, in whom the lust of battle was awakening. "But it is a dark night----"

"To victory and the heart of Ravenna I will find my way even in the dark. And it lightens besides."

"You are all at once very eager for the fight," said Belisarius hesitatingly.

"Yes, for there is good reason. The barbarians are startled. They fear God and forget their enemies."

At this moment Procopius and Marcus Licinius hurried into the tent together.

"Belisarius," cried the first, "the earthquake has thrown down the barracks by the northern trench, and has buried half a cohort of your Illyrians!"

"My poor people!" cried Belisarius, and at once left the tent.

"Cethegus," said Marcus, "one of your cohorts also lies buried under their barracks."

But, impatiently shaking his head, the Prefect asked: "How is the water in the Gothic moat before the tower of Ætius? Has not the earthquake lessened it?"

"Yes, the water has disappeared--the moat is quite dry. Hark, what a cry! It is your Illyrians! They cry for help!"

"Let them cry!" said Cethegus. "Is the moat really dry? Then give the signal to storm. Follow me with all the Isaurians that are still alive."

And in the midst of thunder and lightning, which now again raged unceasingly, the Prefect hurried to the trenches where his Roman legions and the rest of the Isaurians stood under arms. He quickly counted them. There were far too few to take the city alone, but he knew that a moderate success would immediately cause Belisarius to join him.

"Lights! torches!" he cried, and stepped to the front of his Roman legions with a torch in his left hand. "Forward!" he cried. "Draw your swords!"

But not a hand was raised.

Dumb with astonishment and terror, the whole troop--even the leaders, even Licinius--looked at the demonic man, who, in the midst of all Nature's rebellion, thought only of his goal, and of using the strife of the elements and the terrors of the Almighty as means to prosecute his own ends.

"Well? which is your duty? To listen to the thunder, or to me!" he cried.

"General," said a centurion, stepping forward, "the men pray; for the earth quaked."

"Do you think that Italy will devour her own children? No, Romans; see! The very earth quakes at the tread of the barbarians. It rises, breaks its bonds, and their walls fall. Roma, Roma Æterna!"

His words took effect.

It was one of those CÆsarian speeches which move men to great deeds.

"Roma, Roma Æterna!" cried, first Licinius, and after him thousands of Roman youths; and through night and storm, through thunder and lightning, they followed the Prefect, whose grand enthusiasm irresistibly carried them away.

Excitement lent wings to their feet. They were soon across the wide moat which usually they scarcely dared to approach.

Cethegus was the first to reach the opposite side.

The wind had extinguished the torches.

But he found his way in the dark.

"Here, Licinius!" he cried, "follow me! Here must be the breach."

He sprang forward, but ran against some hard body and staggered back.

"What is that!" asked Lucius Licinius behind him. "A second wall?"

"No," said a quiet voice, "but a Gothic shield!"

"That is King Witichis!" said the Prefect furiously, and with bitter hatred he looked at the dark figure before him.

He had counted upon a surprise. His hope was frustrated.

"If I but had him," he said to himself, "he should never hinder me again!"

Looking behind, he now saw many torch-lights and heard the flourish of trumpets. Belisarius was leading his troops to storm the walls.

Procopius reached the Prefect.

"Well, why do you stop? Do new walls keep you back?"

"Yes, living walls. There they stand," and the Prefect pointed forward with his sword.

"Under the still tottering ruins, these Goths! Truly," cried Procopius--

"'Si fractus illabatur orbis,
Impavidos ferient ruinÆ!'

They are courageous men!"

But now Belisarius was at hand with his compact lines, ready for the assault.

One moment more--the leaders were still hurrying to and fro, giving orders--and a terrible slaughter would begin.

But suddenly all the sky above the city was flooded with a red light.

A column of flame shot up into the air, and countless sparks descended. It seemed to rain fire from heaven. All Ravenna glowed in the crimson light. It was a fearful but beautiful spectacle.

Both armies, ready to mingle in a hand-to-hand combat, halted and hesitated.

"Fire! fire! Witichis, King Witichis!" shouted a horseman, who came galloping from the city; "it burns!"

"We see it. Let it burn, Markja! First fight and then extinguish."

"No, no, sire; all the granaries burn! The grain flies in myriads of sparks through the air."

"The granaries are burning!" cried Goths and Byzantines.

Witichis had no heart to ask questions.

"The lightning must have kindled the interior long ago. It is quite burnt out. Look! look!"

A stronger gust of wind fanned the fire, which flamed up higher than ever. The flames caught the nearest roofs, and, at the same time, the wooden ridge of the lofty building seemed to fall, for, after a heavy crash, the sparks shot up thicker than ever.

It was a sea of fire.

Witichis tried to lift his hand to give an order--but his arm fell, faint and powerless. Cethegus saw it.

"Now!" he cried; "now let us assault!"

"No; halt!" thundered Belisarius. "He who lifts his sword is the Emperor's enemy and dies! Back to the camp--all. Now Ravenna is mine! To-morrow it will fall without a struggle."

His troops obeyed him and drew back.

Cethegus was in a fury. He alone was too weak to oppose the order. He was obliged to yield.

His plans were ruined. He had wished to take the city by storm in order--as he had done in Rome--to take possession of its principal defences. And he foresaw that it would be now delivered completely into the hand of Belisarius. He led his troops away in disgust.

But the events which actually occurred afterwards, were very different to what either the Prefect or Belisarius had expected.