Hermanric instantly stooped and secured it.

For a moment she stood before him released from his grasp, motionless and speechless.

Then, starting as if struck by a sudden idea, she moved towards the opening of the tent, and, in tones of malignant triumph, addressed him thus:-- 'You shall not save her yet! You are unworthy of your nation and your name! I will betray your cowardice and treachery to your brethren in the camp!' And she ran to the outside of the tent, calling in a loud voice to a group of young warriors who happened to be passing at a short distance.

'Stay, stay! Fritigern--Athanaric--Colias--Suerid--Witheric--Fravitta! Hasten hitherward! Hermanric has a captive in his tent--a prisoner whom it will rejoice to see! Hitherward! hitherward!' The group she addressed contained some of the most turbulent and careless spirits of the whole Gothic army.

They had just been released from their duties of the past night, and were at leisure to comply with Goisvintha's request.