His warm young blood gushed out upon the floor of the dwelling which had been the love-shrine of the heart that shed it.
Without a sigh from his lips or a convulsion on his features, he fell dead at the feet of his enemies; all the valour of his disposition, all the gentleness of his heart, all the vigour of his form, resolved in one humble instant into a senseless and burdensome mass! Antonina beheld the assassination, but was spared the sight of the death that followed it.

She fell insensible by the side of her young warrior--her dress was spotted with his blood, her form was motionless as his own.
'Leave him there to rot! His pride in his superiority will not serve him now--even to a grave!' cried the Hun leader to his companions, as he dried on the garments of the corpse his reeking sword.
'And this woman,' demanded one of his comrades, 'is she to be liberated or secured ?' He pointed as he spoke to Goisvintha.

During the brief scene of the assassination, the very exercise of her faculties seemed to have been suspended.

She had never stirred a limb or uttered a word.
The Hun recognised her as the woman who had questioned and bribed him at the camp.

'She is the traitor's kinswoman and is absent from the tents without leave,' he answered.