ic, gray-haired man of about sixty years,
with a gray beard falling low on his breast and waving in the wind,
seemed to be the leader oL the retinue of his chief. He was simply
dressed and armed; the mane and tail of his powerful war-horse, a brown
stallion, were prettily interwoven with red and yellow ribbons; on his
shoulders he wore the skin of a wolf, whose open jaws yawned at the
enemy from the top of his helmet; his shield was painted in red and
yellow circles; at his unarmed breast he carried a mighty horn of the
bison of the primeval forest.

The commander now raised his lowered spear, threw it into the
bridle-hand, and offered the right to Severus, who took it with
hesitation, and immediately let it fall.

"First a grasp of the hand," cried the German, with a soft,
richly-toned voice, in very good Vulgate Latin--"first a grasp of the
hand, then, if you so wish it, a stroke with the sword. I know thee;
thou art the brave Severus, formerly the _Magister Militum_. Thou art
gallantly continuing the struggle at a lost post, for a lost cause. I
pride myself in being the son of the hero Liutbert, king of the
Alemanni. My name is Liuthari, and no man has yet conquered me."

Severus frowned darkly. "I have heard of thy father's name, and of
thine, you have stormed Augusta Vindelicorum."

"But not retained possession of it," cried the king's son; and his
clear gray eyes shone pleasantly. "Who would wish to live in walled
graves? Also in your Juvavum we shall not settle."

"That is provided against," muttered Severus.

But Liuthari threw back his locks, laughing.

"Wait a little! But say first, for whom leadest thou these burghers
into the field? In whose name dost thou defend Juvavum?"

"For the Imperator of Ravenna, who, as a good omen, unites the names of
the first king and the first emperor; for Romulus Augustulus, the lord
of the whole earth."

Then the German drew a papyrus roll from his girdle, and threw it to
Cornelius.

"I thought so," said he. "You know less than we barbarians what is
happening in your own Italy--in your own imperial chief city. Read what
is written to me by one who knows it well. There is no longer an
Emperor of the West! Romulus Augustulus--the boy's name is certainly a
good omen _for us_!--is deposed. He lives henceforth on an island, and
feeds peacocks; and on his throne sits my brother-in-law, the husband
of my beautiful sister--Odoacer the brave. He has himself written it to
u