"Isn't she there?"

"Yes! I discovered her by accident, looking down from the wall. She has hidden herself behind beams and rubbish near the Porta Dec.u.mana, like a sick birdling which creeps into some corner to die alone with its head under its wing. Give her time! Perhaps she will submit to it."

Ausonius yielded reluctantly as the Tribune, with gentle force, took his arm, turned him in the opposite direction, and led him back. He was thoroughly angry, and besides, felt ashamed in Saturninus's presence.

"Soon, I hope," he said angrily.

"Yes," replied the Tribune slowly. "Unless--unless some one else has won her heart."

"That she positively denied. She was enraged at the mere question; and falsehood is the perverse little thing's smallest fault. She is still scarcely more than a child. You see how she behaves. Only a child, an untutored child, could be led into such conduct."

But the Roman General shrugged his shoulders. "Let us wait. I would far rather see her yours than a Barbarian's. But think of the offer made by that Adalus! That can only--"

"Certainly. But it doesn't prove that she loves him."

He opposed with angry obstinacy a conjecture which might forever frustrate his wishes, and rejected the suggestion of his friend the more vehemently, the more persistently this fear, though repressed, constantly returned to his mind.

"By the way," he asked the Tribune, to change the conversation, "what do you mean to do with the prisoners? Let them both escape?"

"Impossible! My duty--"

"But my nephew must not die."

"It would be the best thing that could happen," growled the Illyrian, "for himself and his opposite men (for this selfish fellow has no fellow mortals). But I feared that it would be the result of your indulgence. Well, comfort yourself. As I promised life to the slave, the mere tool, the Caesar can send the instigator to the mines too. But you are paying no heed to my words. Where are your thoughts?"

Ausonius had suddenly stopped. Thrusting the staff he carried violently into the earth he exclaimed: "Listen! Suppose I should go to her now--at once? Explain everything, persuade her? Last evening, in her excitement, she probably did not hear or understand. Just think of it--Consul!"

But his companion smiled and drew his reluctant friend forward: "Let her alone, Ausonius. You will only frighten her more. Perhaps a German fisher-lad is dearer to her heart than a Roman Consul."

"Inconceivable!"

"Yes, yes! Very intelligible. I will confess to you that she vehemently entreated me--"

"What, what!--when?"

"Just now, when I climbed down the wall to her and tried to speak for you. She besought me to protect her--from your wooing."

"Ungrateful girl!" exclaimed Ausonius wrathfully. This appeal to the Tribune against him wounded him most bitterly; he had the feeling: Youth naturally combines against age.

"Beware," replied the Tribune earnestly, "lest you should yourself be very ungrateful." But this did not suit the Roman's deeply offended vanity.

"Since you have now suddenly become--what shall I call it?--her guardian or defender against me--"

"I did not seek the position."

"Nor did you decline it. Then tell your ward my firm, resolute will: She must go with me to-morrow in one of Nannienus's galleys to the Emperor at Vindonissa, then to Burdigala. I will follow your advice: I will not go into the forests with you; grief, anger, too much excitement of many kinds, are making me ill--I feel it. First of all, I must obtain the dispensation from the Emperor to permit me, a Senator, to marry my freedwoman. That is now the thing nearest to my heart. And please see that it is clear to her, perfectly clear, that she has obtained no legal right whatever from my words spoken yesterday about liberation. You remarked at the time, very justly, that my words did not make her free: the form required by law was lacking. The words were merely a promise. If I choose, she is still my slave, but no longer yours, tell her that. In Burdigala, after she has tasted Roman life, let her choose which she would prefer: to become the Consul's wife, or be his slave and a she-bear's playmate. I cannot force her to wed me, but tell her that I will never permit her to return to her Barbarian land."

Saturninus would have tried to soothe the excited man, but a loud signal from the tubas summoned both leaders to the wall.

The Roman trumpets were joyously greeting the galleys under the command of Nannienus which, with all their canvas spread to catch the southeast wind, came swiftly nearer and nearer. It was a proud and imposing spectacle.

After the gallant Comes of Britannia, himself a Breton skilled in sailing, had discovered the culpable neglect of the ships and the fraud of the guilty magistrates in Arbor, he had toiled night and day, ceaselessly and untiringly, that he might take to his friend and comrade, Saturninus, the ships and reenforcements on which his whole plan for the encircling and destruction or unconditional surrender of the Alemanni was based. So, in the course of these few days and nights, he had actually succeeded in putting the dilapidated ships into seaworthy condition; and, besides old trading vessels and fisher boats of the largest size, he had a number of new galleys built which, though by no means to be compared with the proud fleet of the Venetian or Brigantinian lake which, a century and a half before, had ruled these sh.o.r.es and waters, could yet render sufficient service in seeking out the hiding-places of the Barbarians along all three sides of the land, and intercepting any flight they might attempt across the lake from the Tribune.

Nannienus's twenty high-decked ships of war, when not lying at anchor but fighting at full speed, would sink, by the mere weight of their shock, when driven by oars and sails, whole swarms of the little Barbarian boats, if they had the temerity to attack them. And to each of these large ships he had a.s.signed two or three smaller flat-decked, shallow boats, to land provisions and troops and facilitate intercourse between the biremes (which required considerable depth of water when they lay at anchor) and the sh.o.r.e, often bordered for a considerable distance by marshes.

Probably more than sixty sail now appeared, in the full radiance of the most brilliant September sunshine, opposite to the Idisenhang, some at anchor, some in an unbroken chain forming a sort of bridge of boats from the place of anchorage to the sh.o.r.e.

The various forms of the sails (for in the pressure of haste all sorts of Barbarian ones had been added to the triangular Latin form of the Romans--ancient Celtic used on the lake from primeval days, and Alemannic) and their motley colors, princ.i.p.ally dazzlingly white, but many deep yellow, gleaming in the sunlight, swelled by the fresh breeze; the surging, swarming life of the soldiers thronging from the ships to the sh.o.r.e, and from the sh.o.r.e to the ships; the greetings of old comrades; the joyful recognition of what had been accomplished in Arbor; the threatening outcries against the Barbarians, who must now be thoroughly extirpated--the whole presented a scene full of splendor, life, movement, and warlike uproar.

CHAPTER XLVI.

The largest galley, an old war ship which still bore the figure of Amphitrite on its prow, displayed a purple streamer, and the smallest foresail was of the same color; for she carried the Commander of the squadron.

"At last!" the able officer exclaimed as, the first man in the whole armada, he leaped from his galley into the boat which lay rocking at its bowsprit. He ran across the whole line of small vessels to the sh.o.r.e, and sprang with one impatient leap from the last boat across the marshy ground to the solid land to meet the Illyrian, who received him with outstretched arms.

"At last, my friend, I bring ships and men. It has been a long delay."

"I know it was no fault of yours."

"The Caesar has already sent the guilty men to the mines. Where is the Prefect?"

"Up above, in the camp. He is not well."

"I have letters for him from the Emperor."

"Has no news come from the Emperor Valens yet?" asked Saturninus anxiously.

"Yes, very late news."

"How do matters stand between him and the Goths?"

"Well for him and badly for the Barbarians. They are suffering terribly from hunger. His last letter declines, and right arrogantly, any a.s.sistance from Gratia.n.u.s and our army."

"He doesn't wish to share the fame of the victory with his nephew,"

said the Tribune, mounting his horse and inviting his friend to ride up the mountain on the beautiful charger brought for his use. Nannienus swung himself into the saddle, and continued:

"A decisive battle is impending, Valens writes. He is marching upon Adrianople, where the Goths are encamped. Why, the horse is sinking here! Are there marshes so far up?"

"Yes, it is the ancient bottom of the lake. So, the die has probably already fallen yonder on the Ister! Well, our little campaign will probably soon be over too. How many helmets do you bring?"

"Thirteen hundred."

"More than enough. Early to-morrow morning we will divide our forces.

Five hundred men will remain in the camp: You will march with the rest toward the northeast, I to the northwest, until we at last find and scatter these incomprehensible foes. Did you see nothing suspicious on your voyage across the lake?"

"Nothing at all. Not a sail, far or near."