Nevertheless they had glimpses, at an infinite depth, of streets,
marching soldiers, and the swinging of swords; and the tumult of battle
reached them dimly like the noise of the sea to shipwrecked men dying
on the masts of a ship. The Italiotes, who were sturdier than the rest,
were still shrieking. The Lacedaemonians were silent, with eyelids
closed; Zarxas, once so vigorous, was bending like a broken reed; the
Ethiopian beside him had his head thrown back over the arms of the
cross; Autaritus was motionless, rolling his eyes; his great head of
hair, caught in a cleft in the wood, fell straight upon his forehead,
and his death-rattle seemed rather to be a roar of anger. As to
Spendius, a strange courage had come to him; he despised life now in
the certainty which he possessed of an almost immediate and an eternal
emancipation, and he awaited death with impassibility.
Amid their swooning, they sometimes started at the brushing of feathers
passing across their lips. Large wings swung shadows around them,
croakings sounded in the air; and as Spendius's cross was the highest,
it was upon his that the first vulture alighted. Then he turned his face
towards Autaritus, and said slowly to him with an unaccountable smile:
"Do you remember the lions on the road to Sicca?"
"They were our brothers!" replied the Gaul, as he expired.
Pages:
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430