After allowing the excitement of the multitude time to find vent, the old Duke gave the twelve heralds a sign, and they hurried into the thick grove of oaks rustling behind the ash-tree. Then he struck the shield, saying: "Justice has now been done according to righteous law and the noble will of the people.
"The judge has done his work: now listen to your Duke, army of the Alemanni!"
Deep silence instantly followed: all eyes rested intently upon Hariowald, who sprang up, took the shield from the tree, slipped it on his left arm, and grasping the spear with his right hand, said from the high stone step, his voice, now in a totally different tone, ringing out with mighty resonance over the people:
"Many of you, I know,--and not the worst spearmen,--have silently dissented or openly grumbled because I have so long delayed leading you to battle. The foe was in the land, and we shrank into the forests; he was burning halls and huts, and we were watching the smoke and flames rise at a distance and remaining inactive. Gradually, even from the farthest districts, the men faithful to the league and obedient to the oath joined us: still the Duke delayed. And meanwhile the enemy was fortifying his camp. Yes, we knew it--any morning from the fortress on the opposite side of the lake the proud galleys might bring almost as many warriors as the camp already contained. Why did the old man still delay? When would he fight?"
"Yes, yes, why delay? When shall we go to battle?" Many voices impatiently repeated.
"He delayed," the Duke went on, his voice rising in tones of thunder, "because he did not wish to strike part, not even half, but all, all, as many as could be reached,--all the murderers, the burners of homes, whom the boy in the imperial purple has again sent from across the lake to attack our free people!
"To-morrow (faithful men reported it to me before the news reached the Roman General), early to-morrow morning the proud galleys will sail across the lake and anchor off the shore close to the camp; and to-morrow, after midnight, old Hariowald will lead you to storm the camp and the ships at the same time!"
Then the long-repressed battle fury broke out in a terrible tumult; frantic shouts and wild clanking of weapons echoed through the air.
"Look," Hariowald continued, "the heralds are already bearing from the sacred grove of the gods of our country, from the mysterious gloom of the forest darkness, never illumined by a sunbeam, the victorious badges of our tribes and districts which they have taken from the ancient oaks."
A shout of joy, somewhat subdued by reverence, greeted the procession of twelve heralds, who now, in pairs, with measured tread, came from beyond the ash-tree and gave the badges to the representatives of the various districts and clans, who stepped forward from the circle to receive them.
Ebarvin seized the symbol of the Ebergau: the boar's head with threatening tusks fastened to a cross-pole on a lofty spear. Adalo grasped a similar shaft, which supported a pair of huge stag's antlers. Almost all the monsters of the primeval forest and the animals sacred to the gods were used in a similar way. Beside the huge horns of the aurochs and the bison rose the broad antlers of the elk. Odin's wolf, Donar's bear, and Löki's fox opened their jaws threateningly. Zio's sword, pointing straight upward, surmounted a shaft painted blood-red; another had Donar's hammer between two zigzag red lightnings forged from iron; three lances bore each a horse's head and neck, and from the necks the manes--respectively black, red, and brown--still fluttered. On other poles the bald eagle, the golden eagle, and the Alpine vulture spread their wings and extended their talons in attitudes of menace. A winged dragon carved from wood had been covered with the skins of the ring adder and the copper adder, which rustled in the wind. And as, like the manes of the horses, the hair of the wild beasts had been left hanging in a strip from the head to the tail, and long red, yellow, and blue streamers fluttered from the cross-poles, there was no lack of the rustling, waving motion, to which we moderns are accustomed in banners.
Under these streamers was also many a trophy,--a fragment cut from a captured dragon standard, or a scrap of a purple pennon which the Roman squadrons and cohorts had long carried under thelabarumor standard of the cross, for they had abjured the pagan eagles.
When the representatives of the districts and families had received their beloved and honored emblems and returned to the ranks, the Duke went on:
"Hail to you, ancient symbols of conflict and witnesses of victory! Hail and greeting, ye emblems consecrated to the gods! In your presence, looking into the future, seized by the power of the gods invisibly hovering around you, I will venture to utter a prophecy:
"Comrades in arms, Alemanni! do not doubt this time that victory will be ours. You know that it is not the custom of old Hariowald to boast before acting: but this time I predict to you certain, complete, glorious, joyous victory.
"All our gods will unite to aid us to-morrow. Not least of them Löki, the flame-creator. Tents and ships will vanish in fire. The lake nymph will drag many hundreds down in her net. The terrible earth-goddess will open her mysterious bosom, on which the insolent aliens have trodden with iron feet: she will pour forth the avengers, the sons of her country, into the midst of the enemy's strongest fortress! For the Lofty One blinded the hated foe, so that they chose in our whole district the spot for their camp most fatal to them. And when they fly from the tents to the galleys, amid the terrors of the night, by the flickering glare of their burning fortifications--they will find on the lake the same destruction in fire and blood.
"If the last of the flying ships, with masts and prows half burned, pursued and harried by our swift boats, should really succeed in reaching the southern shore and the harbor fortress from which they sailed forth so victoriously, who knows--I will not say more--who knows whether they may not find there an unexpected doom?
"No! Silence still! Hear me to the end.
"Before I dissolve the assembly and send you all to prepare your weapons in the best way, to polish the points and blades, and to eat and drink enough,--not over much, then afterwards--do you hear--to seek sleep soon, very soon, for you will have no slumber to-morrow night--hear one thing more: you must make one resolve before this battle!
"Remember, men, how from generation to generation these Romans have sinned against our people; how again and again they have broken faith and treaty; how they will not even grant us the poor land we have wrested from the marsh and the primeval forest; how, in violation of treaties, they have pushed their fortresses farther and farther into our boundaries; how they forced thousands of our ancestors to fight naked and unarmed with wild beasts on the blood-stained sand of their arenas in the city by the Tiber, gloating, safe in their high seats, over the death-agonies of our kinsmen under the paws and rent by the teeth of roaring monsters; how they forced thousands of our young men into their cohorts and made them shed their blood, often far beyond the salt sea!
"Ha, Alemanni of the Black Forest, do you still know how they invited your King Widigab to a banquet and murdered him over the wine-cup? Have you forgotten, Alemanni of the Ebergau, who submitted to them on condition that you should live according to your own laws, how on the smallest pretext, they had your free men scourged by their lictors? Do you still recollect, Alemanni from the Breisgau, how they asked a peaceful passage through your country, and then encamped near the sacred grove of the goddess Ostara, asked permission to visit the aged priest of eighty and his great-granddaughter, the girl of sixteen, in the grove (it was a General and one of their shaven priests, with a hundred warriors), and inquired what was your most sacred thing? And when the maiden unsuspiciously showed the sacred bronze vessels which the gracious goddess had once sent down to you on the rainbow, how they suddenly seized both, and the Christian priest, before the eyes of the unarmed people, shamefully profaned the sacred vessel; how the General slew the venerable priest and dragged the young priestess away to captivity and disgrace, and how their warriors set fire to the sacred grove?
"Do you still remember, men of the Alpgau, how, in the midst of peace, a centurion dishonored your Count's young wife by her own hearthstone, so that she hanged herself by her girdle?
"Have you forgotten how often they have bound our girls together, yes and our boys, too, like beasts of burden, by their long locks, and driven them forth to a life of disgrace from which the pure gods of Asgard turn their faces, crimson with shame and wrath?
"You havenotforgotten these things! I hear it! I see it! Well then, do as I advise:Take no prisoners!Kill them all! Do not spare one; disdain all ransom. Let the whole army,--leaders, horse and foot,--be dedicated to Odin and to Zio. You will: I see it! Then repeat the words after me and swear:
"To thee, Odin, doomed,And to wrathful Zio,Be all who live within the campAnd on the rocking galleys.Soon will ye bathe in blood,O gods so mighty,From ankle to knee!"
"To thee, Odin, doomed,
And to wrathful Zio,
Be all who live within the camp
And on the rocking galleys.
Soon will ye bathe in blood,
O gods so mighty,
From ankle to knee!"
Swinging their weapons in frantic excitement the gathered thousands repeated the terrible oath.
"I will dismiss the army at once; only hear one thing more--your Duke's vow. The many thousand mailed men who broke into the peaceful districts captured one single prisoner, a defenceless woman, a merry little maiden. Many of you, I think, know her."
"Bissula! The little one! The fair one! The red-elf, Suobert's child!" So shouted hundreds of voices.
"Yes, Bissula, Suobert's daughter. Well then: whoever releases her, whoever brings her to me from the Roman camp after the battle, shall receive the Duke's whole share of the booty."
A grateful but sorrowful glance from Adalo rested upon him: the young noble no longer dared to hope.
"The circle is dissolved, the assembly is over," the old commander continued; he then turned the upright stone resting against the trunk of the tree and descended the steps.
The bands, with loud acclamations for the Duke, instantly scattered in all directions down the sides of the mountain, each division following the symbols borne in front of its own district and tribe.
Adalo was going too; but the Duke motioned to him to remain, took from his hand the stag standard and gave it to Sippilo, who bore it proudly down the Holy Mountain.
"Stay," said Hariowald, when the heralds, last of all, had left the place of assembly, "you must know how this battle is to be fought, according to my plan and wish. For, if the Lofty One should call me up to him before the victory is won, you must complete it. Therefore you must now learn all (far more than the men in the army) that for weeks I have been preparing during sleepless nights, and have secretly accomplished in the past few days.
"Come, sit down by me; we will spread out on this stone the plan of the Roman camp, which we owe to your brave little brother.
"It has been of the greatest service to me. I told you yesterday how the men of the districts were to attack the four sides and gates of the camp at the same time."
"Yes: but you did not say where you would fight with your bands, and where I was to go."
"I? I shall take the shortest way--from beneath."
"No! No! Leave it to me. It is the--most dangerous one."
"Yes, yes," cried the old man, laughing. "And you have no suspicion how dangerous it is. Know then: the ascent cannot be made, as we hoped, first of all and unexpectedly, taking them by surprise; it cannot be made until after the foe, alarmed by the assault on the northern wall, stands ready in full armor."
"Then it will be impossible! But why?"
"Because, as I first learned night before last, the Romans, in digging out the northern ditch, filled up the extreme northern end of the subterranean passage; or else the earth has fallen in, from the jarring. When I entered this passage from the forest outside of the camp--"
"What? you yourself?"
"Yes, I myself; night before last. I advanced only a few steps before I found a heap of earth which had fallen from above, and I was obliged to return. But I stole, on the surface of the earth, so near the ditch that I could look into it from a tree. The whole ditch--it is now dry again--was brightly lighted by their camp fires. Then I saw that the earth-goddess of our land had blinded the strangers' eyes. They perceived nothing suspicious in the large boulder that bars the continuation of the passage from the ditch into their camp, and they did not roll it away. True, it has not been moved from the spot for decades; for the secret, bequeathed from generation to generation, is known to but two men of the race who bear the emblem of the stag's antlers, and there is rarely an occasion which demands its use. So they did not perceive that the rock had been rolled there by human hands, and they planted one of their banners on the turf which covers it. They have no suspicion of the passage. For look! The plan of the camp shows it; close beside the Nerthus pine, above the altar stones of the Idise, they have pitched a tent filled with provisions and weapons. You see, here!"
"Yes, indeed. The tent is placed exactly over the mouth of the passage. But outside there, in the northern ditch, numerous sentinels are posted--Thracian spearmen alternating with Batavians."
"Yes, that's just it. They must be driven away before I can roll the rock aside and make my way up."
"That will cost blood; it will also require time. The Thracians, and especially the Batavians, are their very best troops. Alas, if it happen to be the turn of the Batavians. They are not inferior to us in heroic courage."
"No matter! They must fall before the badger can enter the old burrow."
"And then--after the battle has summoned all our foes to arms--then you will? Let me go in your place!"
"Obey! You will find work enough at the southern gate, the lake gate. When we have stormed the camp, the whole flood of those who still remain alive will pour to the ships through the southern gate. They must not be allowed to reach the lake in close order, to turn the tide of battle against us there at the last. You will meet them as they burst through the southern gate, and drive them back into the burning camp, or scatter them. They must not be allowed to reach the lake from the camp as reinforcements to the defenders of the galleys, but to increase their alarm. This is your task: Saturninus, if he live, will make it hard enough for you."
"So my post will be at the southern gate?"
"Yes; and to it I have sent, if by any means she can reach it--Bissula!"
"Thanks!"
"Do not thank me! For I forbid you to fight for the girl; you must fight solely for victory. Yet have no anxiety. If she is still alive, she will be rescued. I have relieved Zercho and Sippilo from every other duty, and given them only one charge--to find and protect the young girl. But you I need for higher work. I fear one man only in the whole army," he added in a lower tone--"Saturninus. He is like the old leaders they had in their better days, the days of which my grandfather and father told me with horror, when it was almost impossible for the most heroic courage to defeat a Roman army. Who knows whether Ebarbold will strike him down? We must let the King have the first chance; he has the prior claim: but if the Roman should be the one who survives and I do not reach and kill him after the King's fall, before you (I shall make every effort to do it), do you, son of Adalger, provide that Saturninus shall not lead his army in closed ranks down to the lake: detain him as long as you can stand."
"As long as I can! But I wondered when you set the fisherman his task. If the Roman galleys cross the lake here, how can you know whether he will be able to reach them from the shore? They will anchor, not come to the land. How is Fiskulf to get from the storming of the Roman camp here?"
"He will not share the assault," replied Hariowald, laughing, as he stroked his beard complacently. "And he will not go by land to the galley, but by the lake."
"Swimming?"
"No, rowing. Know what no one has yet learned; for crowds are garrulous. Besides the most distant Alemanni districts, I have secretly won as allies the Hermunduri, who drink the water of the Main, and induced them to send us reinforcements for this war. You supposed that the boats in the two forest-covered swamps on the east and west of the Idisenhang were filled solely with people unable to bear arms, after I had brought most of the men here? No, my friend! The boats, almost three hundred, in the two marshes are not empty of men. The women and children are to be put ashore to-night; more than two thousand Alemanni and Hermunduri will leap into the boats. From left and right, from east and west, they will float in the stillness and darkness of the night against the high-decked galleys, and as soon as the first torch is hurled into the Roman camp on the Idisenhang, our boats will attack the Roman ships from the open lake and from left and right. Aha, do you think our fishing boats will be like nutshells against those giants? Probably: but have you never seen a flock of brave little swallows put a sparrow hawk to flight? Our skiffs are small, it is true; but more than two hundred against sixty. And the pitch and resin of the pine-trees in the forests by the lake, blazing in a thousand faggots of dry twigs, will burn merrily in the linen sails and the rigging of the triremes."
"You have planned all this alone?" asked the young noble.
"Ha, more, far more than this! Like the wolf of hell, this Rome opens her jaws to swallow all Mittelgard. What? They are not willing to grant us land enough on the northern shore of the lake to feed our growing population? Well, let us see whether, in punishment to the insatiable robbers for new and old crimes, the gods will not deprive them even of the districts they have hitherto held by force,--the northern shore!"
Adalo's astonishment was increasing.
"Their proud giant ships will float against us from Arbor to-morrow; those which escape the midnight conflagration will not, I hope, be received again, when they fly homeward, in the eyrie whence these birds of prey went forth."
"What! Arbor?"
"I have long tried to persuade our eastern districts also to make common cause with us; they did not refuse reinforcements to the league, as people here suppose because they did not see the men of the eastern provinces. Besides,"--he smiled craftily,--"most of the eastern districts have kings. It was not necessary to have all these kings here, when Ebarbold's fate was to be decided. Meanwhile, they will help where I sent them: on the southern shore. But not they alone.
"We wished to free the brothers of our race still enslaved by Rome. For a long time the Alemanni and the other colonists--more slaves than free men--have borne, grinding their teeth, the yoke which every year pressed heavier. But they were held in check by the fortresses on the other side, from the Linden Island behind Brigantium, beyond Arbor and Constantia. They had long been ready to fight, but the lake fortresses seemed to be too strongly garrisoned. They dread these fortifications from long experience. They required to have aid from us.
"Well: least of all now, with the Emperor so near and a Roman army on the northern shore, least of all now, do the tyrants fear an attack upon their fortresses in the south. To-morrow nearly all the soldiers who usually guard Arbor will come across on the ships to share the gay expedition for booty; only a small guard will be left behind. But as soon as the camp on the Idisenhang is burning,--a magnificent torch, kindled by Zio himself,--the infuriated colonists will attack Arbor from the land side. Thousands of free Alemanni from the eastern districts will aid; they have stolen in small parties through the mountain passes from far, far beyond Brigantium, and remained hidden in the forests and farm-houses of the colonists for the last two days. At the same time our men from the eastern marshes (Suomar commands them) in thirty boats, under cover of the darkness (this is why I could not move while the moon-goddess was in the sky), will go to Arbor, burst the chains of the harbor, and unless the Christian God should descend from the clouds to save the fortress, the morning sun will see the free and the enslaved Alemanni on the walls of Arbor.
"Many times already we have won it, plundered it, half burned it, and then left it, so that the Romans could establish themselves there again: we will be so foolish no longer. If we conquer this time, we will remain there forever! Then one link of the iron chain will be broken, and we shall find it easier to subdue the other fortresses at the left and the right, from Brigantium to Constantia.
"I shall not live to see the day, but you will, young warrior, the day when the southern shore of the lake and the country far, far into the lofty mountains whose peaks are crowned with eternal snows, will be the possession of the free Alemanni: then think of this hour and old Hariowald."
He started up, intensely moved, his white hair and silver beard waving proudly in the breeze.
"My Duke," cried Adalo enthusiastically, "this is magnificent! Speak, when to-morrow we have won this great victory according to your plans, will you not then, instead of Count, bear the name ofKingof the Linzgau and the Ebergau, if Ebarbold fall?"
"No," replied the old man quietly, "that would not be wise. I have reflected upon it a long time. Odin's will, I think, is different for our people. Ebarbold has no descendants: after his death I will propose that they shall not elect another king.
"That will be well; for the time is close at hand, though, it is true, not yet fully here, when one king, a single one, will gather all the districts of the Alemanni under his rule. The path will be more open, easier for this universal king to traverse, the fewer kings and the more counts rule the districts. We two will smooth, not block, the path for the future king of the people. No, no! And, besides, the men of the Ebergau must not say: 'Ebarbold was forced to fall because Hariowald wished to be called King.'
"That king of the people is coming! Then, it is true, the nation will scarcely remember me or you. Only perhaps some harper, in the hall of the One King, will sing how Hariowald, the old chief and Adalo, the young one, defeated the Romans three times in a single night. But we, Adalo, shall then look down upon the free land of the Alemanni, stretching from the Alps to the Vosges. We shall look down from Odin's table. And I may probably expect that, when I cross the threshold of Valhalla, the Lofty One will rise from his throne and come to meet me, with the drinking-horn in his hand. For many men--far more through my counsel, which always advised war, than by my spear--have I sent up to him by the red death in the last fifty years, to fill his hall and increase his army. Yes, my Adalo, we shall then look down upon the glory of our people and say, laughing joyously: 'We two also helped to build it that night on the Idisenhang.'
"So, Adalo, so I praise you: your cheek is glowing, your eye is flashing! That is the right spirit, Odin's spirit, which is now taking possession of you. And that alone, that ardor for battle, will also give you the most ardent desire of your heart; not the dull despair of the last few days, in which, unhappy youth, you sent that secret message to the two Roman Generals!
"Hush! Of course I knew it. It was not difficult to guess the contents of the letter you forwarded after they had disdained everything else you had to give. But I also knew positively that they would refuse you too. That is the sole reason I allowed your messenger to pass through the barricades, as you thought, undetected. I too would gladly see her at liberty, the wild red rosebud of the hillside by the lake, the red flower in our people's garland of oak-leaves. But your Bissula is yonder, with victory, in the Roman camp. If you want her, hew her out at the same hour with conquest and the salvation of your people.
"No, do not thank me; do not talk! Go now! I must be alone."
Meanwhile, incidents of grave moment had occurred in the Roman camp.
The friendly feeling between the two Roman Generals had become strained, and Bissula's ingenuousness toward both was transformed into fear and distrust. The two friends, once so intimately associated, avoided each other and confined their intercourse and conversation solely to matters absolutely required by the service. At the same time the prisoner, now suspiciously watchful, perceived in Ausonius a resentful bitterness toward the Tribune, very alien to his usual good-nature. The latter, on the other hand, evidently was not angry; even in his cool reserve he seemed to spare his older friend, nay, to treat him with a sort of compassion.
The little maid herself was very unhappy. Her careless unconsciousness was completely destroyed, and she did not know which of the two men whose friendship seemed to be broken, if not by her, on her account, she ought to avoid with the greater fear. This feeling grieved the kind-hearted girl. She was also burdened by anxiety about the future, by dread of the unknown, by rebelliousness--when she was powerless and fully aware of it--against the restraint imposed by the will of strangers upon her obstinacy, all threatening her immediately. For, however the two Romans differed in everything else concerning the prisoner, they seemed to unite in one thing: Bissula should never again be free, never return to the forest hut by the lake, to the familiar scenes of the neighborhood.
At these thoughts tears filled the eyes once so saucy or so proud. How sadly she admitted to herself that her own folly and defiance were the sole causes which had brought all this misfortune upon her! How kind, how prudent, how loyal Adalo's advice had been! Yet these tears, burning, bitter tears of remorse, nay, yearning, were a relief. Even now, in the trouble for which she alone was to blame, he had not abandoned her! The first greeting that reached her from her people had come from him; he had sent the young brother whom he loved so fondly, and whom therefore she loved for his sake, and Bruna too, her old playfellow.
She had dissembled craftily before the soldiers, and wondered loudly at the animal's "friendliness." But, as soon as she was alone in her tent with the faithful beast, she clasped the huge head tenderly with both white arms, kissed the broad forehead and lovingly patted the neck of the bear, who growled affectionately in reply. Then she slipped her hand through the collar, felt a depression in it, drew it up from the shaggy skin to the light of the Roman lamp, perceived characters scrawled on it, and read: "Through the gate to the lake."
Her heart throbbed warmly. So her friends had already consulted about her escape! They were giving her the safest direction, the part of the camp where her companions would wait for her. But they could not possibly mean that she should try to make her way now, without further delay, through the lake gate, that is, through the "Porta Decumana," so closely guarded day and night. Not now! But when?
Evidently as soon as something happened which would render escape possible; then she was to choose that direction. But what was to happen? An attack of the Alemanni? Ausonius laughed at it. Even cautious Saturninus had said: "Unless they fly over it like the swallows that are now preparing for departure, they will not come into this solid camp."
So she racked her little brains, pondering over all sorts of possibilities which might bring her liberty against or with the will of the Romans. Should she appeal to Ausonius again? No!
A strange timidity had taken possession of her ever since her last interview with him. She had never cherished any affection for the clever, eloquent man except the feeling a daughter has for a father; but recently, in making the proposal to take her with him, his eyes had rested on her so strangely. Never had he looked at her so before. It was like the gaze Saturninus fixed upon her when he seized her outside of the forest hut--but never again, not even when he told her that she belonged to him and he would not release her.
So it happened that the sensitive girl, alarmed by the suddenly discovered ardor of the older man, felt safer and more at ease with the younger but undemonstrative one. She avoided Ausonius; she almost sought Saturninus, to whom, at the beginning and during the whole course of her captivity, she had learned to be grateful as to a watchful guardian.
Often and often, since reading Bruna's message, she walked toward the lake gate, without hoping to find it unwatched or carelessly guarded,--the Tribune kept too strict a rule, too sharp an oversight for that,--but to impress upon her mind the exact locality of the streets and tents which might afford a hiding-place near the gate where she might await, close at hand, the most favorable moment.
She had soon chosen for this purpose a towering heap of beams, gabions, and boards piled one above another, which had not been used in building the camp and had been left here: it rose high above her head, and when behind it, she was concealed from the view of those at the gate or in the street between the tents. But she never lingered long at the spot, lest she might arouse suspicion.
Bissula sought from preference the opposite side of the camp, facing the north, where the lofty pine-tree of the earth-goddess rose beside the broad sacrificial stones of the altar, spreading out its mighty branches, and from above the wall the eye could rove freely over the forests to the distant peaks where, veiled by mists, the Holy Mountain towered. Her thoughts always flew thither, not to the eastern marshes, not to Suomar. She was often anxious about her grandmother, but Zercho had certainly concealed her; and now that "the obstinate redhead" could no longer say no, probably on the Holy Mountain.
"Therefore"--this was the excuse she willingly made to herself--"thereforeI cannot help thinking constantly of the Holy Mountain, Oh no! That isn't true. It is not for my grandmother's sake. Adalo, Adalo, help!"
So she had called aloud the evening after the refusal to set her at liberty, perched high among the branches of the pine-tree into which she liked to climb to dream alone, and at the same moment stretched her beautiful arms, with a gesture of longing entreaty, toward the northwest, where lightning was flashing over the mountain peaks.
On the evening after the inspection (it was the day of the assembly on the Holy Mountain) she walked through the streets of the camp, thinking and dreaming of her liberation, also of her liberator. She had tied faithful Bruna firmly to the poles of her tent; for there had repeatedly been serious trouble when she took the animal with her: boys belonging to the camp followers pelted her with stones, from safe hiding-places, till she was greatly infuriated.
To Ausonius's nephew, especially, the bear showed intense antipathy, rising on her hind legs and growling furiously whenever she saw him, though he anxiously kept out of her way and never teased her. Only with the utmost difficulty, by clasping her arms around the animal, had she prevented Bruna from attacking him.
"Your she-bear understands Latin," said Saturninus, who had sprung to help her, smiling. "She knew what Herculanus said when he swore that some day she should pay in the amphitheatre at Rome, under the teeth of his Thessalian dogs, for the mischief she meant to do him here."
"Bruna in Rome?" the girl cried defiantly. "No more--than Bissula in Burdigala!" But as she spoke she almost wept from rage, hate, and fear.
Oppressed by sad yearning and anxiety, the usually light-hearted child had again walked this evening from her tent to the lake gate, and thence, driven back by the shouts of the Thracian sentries, wandered through the whole camp to her beloved pine-tree, which had begun to supply the place of the oak beside her forest home: for the tree of the earth-goddess also afforded a convenient ascent like a stairway on its broad branches drooping to the sacrificial stones, while on the central trunk was a hiding-place invisible from below, with a comfortable back, and the beloved view over the Roman fortifications to the mountain peaks rising in the distance.
The sun had set long before, and darkness gathered quickly in that region as soon as the glowing ball had vanished behind the wooded western shores of the lake. There was no moon; only a few stars were in the sky.
The wind bore to her ears from the distance scattered sounds: the neighing of a horse, the rattle of a weapon, the shout of a sentinel at the gate. Oh, those guards, who also watched her here in her spacious prison, prevented her escape, her return to her people--for how much longer? Sorrow overpowered her, and she felt that tears were about to flow. But her tyrants should not see them; she would weep her fill, up above there!
Bissula glided lightly up and sat so still in her hiding-place among the boughs that a belated bird--a blackbird--perched for the night, without seeing her, a few branches above her head.
Then the girl saw two men step cautiously from behind corner tents, each at the end of a street running in opposite directions across the camp; they made signs to each other, gazed carefully behind and sideways, then hurried forward and met directly under the pine-tree on its northern side, so that the huge trunk completely concealed them from the camp.
Bissula bent softly, softly downward: it was a man with a helmet and one unarmed; she could not distinguish their features. They began to talk, in whispers, it is true, but the listener understood many words, and she now recognized the speakers by their voices.
"But I tell you, it must be this very day! He has ordered the scribe to come early tomorrow morning, with the seal. He means to change his will--to add a codicil. What good will his death do me, if he first throws the best part of his riches into that wench's lap?"
The other made some reply which the girl did not hear.
"Ha!--she--she can't be reached!" answered the first speaker. "That red-haired witch is under the protection of the fiends of hell."
"How so?"
"Why, one night lately--a deadly terror has seized me ever since when I see the brown beast--the monster's hot, loathsome breath was steaming from her open jaws into my face! She was within a hair's breadth of clutching and squeezing me to death! This very evening--just now--at supper--"
"Hark, what was that," asked the other startled, "up above in the pine-tree? Didn't you hear anything?"
"Pshaw! The night-breeze in the branches!"
"No, no! It was--"
"Well, it was that bird! There it flies!"
The startled blackbird, loudly uttering its cry of fear and warning, flew upward; the listener, in her horror, had pressed her hand upon her throbbing heart and, by the slight movement, frightened the bird perched so near her.
"Well then, by Tartarus, I will risk it! He complained again to-day, before many witnesses, of fever and all sorts of pains. Have you hemlock enough? Shall I give you my vial? I brought it with me. Here, I always carry it in my breast."
"Enough for six uncles!"
"But the stuff must have a suspicious taste: sharp, bitter. Suppose he should notice it too soon?"
"That's why I mixed the other half with honey. But take good care of your store. Perhaps Prosper, in case he has any suspicion, must also--"
"Or the Barbarian girl, if the will has already--"
"Let us go," the other interrupted.
"Put it in the Emperor's goblet! He drinks from no other.--Quick: I go to the left."
"And I go to the right."
The voices died away, and the footsteps echoed from two directions.
Horrified, almost paralyzed with terror, Bissula slipped down from the tree. On reaching the ground she staggered, clinging to the trunk for support, and for a moment wondered whether she had not fallen asleep and dreamed. She could not realize, could not believe that such a deed was possible. His own nephew--that kind-hearted man!
And yet it was true. Haste was necessary. The hour for the meal had already come, and Ausonius always began by drinking from the Emperor's goblet, with the three beautiful female figures, to the health of the Emperor Gratianus.
Those two men had the start, too, and it was a considerable distance from this extreme northwestern corner of the camp to the Prætorium in the south. Turning, she ran as swiftly as she could, but had only reached the corner of the nearest street of tents when she shrieked aloud in terror. An iron hand grasped her arm.
"Help!" she screamed despairingly. "Help! Help for Ausonius!"
"Why are you shrieking like a dying leveret, little one?" replied a deep voice. "Where are you going so fast?"
"Let me go, whoever you may be! The Prefect's life is in danger! Who are you?"
"I am Rignomer. I followed you unnoticed till you climbed the tree. You wouldn't have seen me now, if you hadn't dashed away as though you were driven by the elves. Where are you going?"
"To the Prefect! They want to murder him!"
"Oh, nonsense, what are you talking about? Who?"
"Don't ask! Come with me! Hurry! Alas, perhaps even now it is too late."
The Batavian yielded to this unmistakable despair. Without removing his hand from her arm, he ran beside her.
"Where is the Tribune?" asked Bissula.
"With the Prefect: some news has come from Arbor."
"The gods be thanked. He is the only one who can help!"
On they ran through the streets of the camp, now perfectly dark except where fires were glimmering at the corners. Suddenly Bissula fell. The German dragged her up.
"A tent rope! You must keep more in the middle. But you are limping! Did you hurt yourself?"
"A little. Keep on."
But she reeled; her feet refused to carry her.
"Now it's lucky that I caught you," said the soldier, swinging her on his arm like a child. And Bissula, who usually so fiercely resisted every touch, willingly permitted it.
"Throw your arms around my neck, little one! There. Now hold fast! It won't be long" ("unfortunately" he thought, but took good care not to say it), "we shall reach there directly." And he pressed on swiftly and sturdily with his light, beautiful burden.
A slender bluish flame, burning in a marble vessel supported by a bronze pedestal of exquisite Corinthian workmanship, diffused both light and perfume through the Prefect's sumptuously furnished and richly decorated tent. Ausonius was lying on the low couch: before him stood the Tribune. Prosper, the old freedman, was pushing forward the citrus wood dining-table, which ran on rollers.
Herculanus entered, greeted all present pleasantly and took his place on the second couch, opposite to Ausonius. "Where is Davus?" he asked the freedman impatiently. "I am thirsty!"
"He ought to have been here long ago," replied Prosper. "He often wanders about needlessly, nobody knows where. You must have him put in the block again, patronus."
"What," cried Ausonius laughing, "have you actually dragged the block here, you rigid slave-overseer, all the way from Vindonissa?"
"Three fine ones, patronus. If you take bad slaves with you, I must take good blocks."
Saturninus was about to go: "The business of the service is over for to-day, Prefect. Perhaps Nannienus may arrive with the galleys to-morrow. He sent a swift galley across the lake to-day: he will arrive very soon. Then, at last, we can begin our work without delay. But," he added in a kindly tone, advancing a step nearer to the lectus, "Will you permit me to utter a word of warning. Prefect Prætor of Gaul? Yesterday, and to-day still more, you complained of illness; chills followed by short attacks of fever: will you not remain here in the camp to-morrow (Bissula shall nurse you), instead of marching with us into the swampy forests? I fear you already have the marsh fever."
Just at that moment Davus entered, bringing the beautiful mixing-vessel, filled, and several empty goblets.
"Davus, you lazy hound!" shouted Herculanus. "Quick! I am thirsty! Wine!"
But Saturninus, bending anxiously over the reclining figure, went on: "Acid old Cæcubian is said to be a good remedy for this fever. May I send you some from my store, Prefect?"
But Ausonius still remained silent. Contradictory feelings had been struggling for mastery in his soul since the Illyrian's last words. On the one hand his resentment was very vehement against the obstinate soldier who, for some incomprehensible whim, opposed the dearest wish of his heart. But even during these days of constraint Saturninus had treated him so respectfully, while he himself had been very harsh to his old friend. And he loved the gallant General so warmly! And now this touching, unfeigned solicitude for his health conquered the kind heart of Ausonius.
"Saturninus! Your affection does me good. My nephew thinks only of one disease--his own thirst! The business of the service, Tribune, is probably over; but I entreat you to stay as my guest. Let us forget what briefly estranged us, and remember our beautiful old friendship."
Saturninus quickly grasped the outstretched hand and pressed it warmly: "There your heart spoke, Ausonius! I thank you. I will stay gladly." He took his place on the third lectus, which was at the rear of the tent opposite to the entrance and at the right of the two others. "You ought to have known long ago that my sole wish is your welfare, your real happiness."
Just at that moment Davus came from the table beside the entrance, where the wine was poured, toward his master. He walked very slowly, for he carried three goblets, all filled: two small ones on a silver salver in his right hand, and the large imperial beaker in his left. With his face turned to the entrance and his back to Saturninus, he had poured the wine from the small amphora at the table and then added spring water from the mixing-vessel.
Herculanus hastily started up, snatched one of the goblets from the salver and emptied it at one draught. His uncle cast a look of disapproval at him, saying, "Could you not wait for my toast?" Then he took the Emperor's goblet with the three graces. Davus carried the last cup to the Illyrian and set the silver salver on the table.
"The first draught," said Ausonius, "is usually to the noble Emperor, to whom I owe this beautiful gift. But to-day Gratianus may wait; to-day I drink first to our friendship, my Saturninus!"
"And all that your heart most ardently desires," added the latter smiling.
Ausonius raised the goblet.
Just at that moment the curtain at the door of the tent was dragged violently back from the outside: Bissula, her face corpselike in its pallor, her hair fluttering wildly around her, and blood streaming from her bare right arm, rushed in, shrieking:
"Poison! Do not drink, Ausonius!" She fell forward headlong on the Prefect's couch.
Herculanus sprang up with the speed of lightning, to snatch the cup from his uncle's hand and pour its contents on the ground. But, before he reached him, the Tribune, who had dropped his own goblet, clutched him with a grasp of iron. In spite of his violent struggles, Herculanus could not move forward an inch. Davus, the old freedman running at his heels, darted toward the entrance. Prosper shouted loudly, but Davus went no farther than the door; for here he encountered the Batavian, Rignomer, who seized him by the throat and held him fast.
Ausonius, horrified and bewildered, had set the goblet on the table before him, and now raised Bissula's head. "Poison?" he asked sorrowfully. "Poison me? Who?"
"The dog of a slave, of course!" cried Herculanus, struggling furiously in the Illyrian's hold. "Are you in league with Davus, Tribune? Why do you prevent me from punishing the scoundrel?" And now he actually succeeded in releasing his right hand and gripping the dagger in his belt.
"Don't let him go," shrieked Bissula, who had now recovered her senses. "He is the instigator!"
Just at that moment, summoned by Prosper, who had rushed out screaming for help, two Thracians on guard before the Prefect's tent, and two Illyrians who chanced to be passing, came in and, by the Tribune's orders, seized Herculanus and the slave, who, pale and trembling, could scarcely stand.
Ausonius, groaning aloud, sank back on his pillows.