For this he had been preparing himself during the past months, exercising his body and striving to invigorate his mind, little apt for warlike enterprise.
When the trial came, his courage did not fail, but the violent emotions of that day left him so exhausted, so shaken in nerve, that he could scarce continue his journey.

He had come out of the fight unwounded, but at nightfall fever fell upon him, and he found no rest.

The loss of some half dozen men grieved him to the heart; had the brave fellows fallen in battle with the Greeks, he would have thought less of it; to see them slain, or captured, by mere brigands was more than he could bear.

When at length he reached Aesernia, and there unexpectedly met with Venantius, he fell from his horse like a dying man.

A draught given by the physician sent him to sleep, and from the second hour after sunset until nearly noon of to-day he had lain unconscious.
What he now learnt from Venantius swept into oblivion all that he had undergone.