h he sprang up, his sword
raised to strike. Then the Roman General drove the point of his spear
with all his force through his breastplate up to the handle.

The dying warrior cast one more glance toward the left. He saw
Gibamund's white horse, covered with blood-stains, falling; he saw the
scarlet banner sink. "Woe betide thee, Vandalia!" he cried, as his eyes
grew dim in death.

"That was indeed a hero," said Belisarius, bending over him. "Where is
Genseric's banner, Fara?"

"Gone!" replied the latter, wrathfully. "Far away. Do you see? It is
already vanishing over there, beyond the stream."

"Who has--?"

"A woman. In a falcon helmet. With a shining white shield. I believe it
was a Valkyria," said the pagan, with a slight shiver of fear. "It
happened so swiftly I scarcely saw it. I had just struck down the young
standard-bearer's horse. Just at that moment a black steed--I never saw
such an animal--plunged against my own horse so that it fell back upon
its haunches. I heard a cry: 'Hilda! I thank you!' At the same moment
the black charger dashed far, far away from me. I think it now carried
two figures! A long fluttering white mantle--or was it swan-wings?--and
above floated the scarlet banner. There, now they are vanishing in that
cloud of dust. 'Hilda!' the German murmured to himself. The name suits
too. Yes, the Valkyria bore him away."

"Forward!" shouted Belisarius. "Follow! Over the stream! There is no
longer a Vandal army. The centre is broken and defeated. Their left
wing--aha, look yonder, our right wing, the faithful Huns--" He laughed
grimly. "Now they are rushing from their hill, hewing down the flying
Barbarians. What heroism! And how they are all struggling to reach the
camp to plunder! Now, at last, our infantry have joined our left wing;
there, too, the Vandals are flying without a struggle. On, to the camp!
Do not let the Huns secure the whole booty. All the gold and silver for
the Emperor, the pearls and precious stones for the Empress! Forward!"

CHAPTER XVI

PROCOPIUS TO CETHEGUS:

I have witnessed many a battle, many a conflict of Belisarius,--usually
from a very safe distance,--but never have I seen so strange an
encounter. In this, which decides the fate of the Vandal kingdom, we
have lost in all only forty-nine men, but solely picked warriors, and
among them eight commanders. Fara, Althias, and Johannes,--all three
are wounded. Yet we have not many-