tioned
away the elder slave, stepped to the window of the tower, and looked
out.

"There is not a hundred of them, these daring barbarians! What
insolence! Only a few wear defensive armour; and their weapons of
attack are pitiable. How many of their arrows, spears, battle-axes have
already splintered harmlessly on my helmet and armour! They are coming
straight towards me. I long for battle and victory! There is life down
there in the streets of the town. Severus is gathering his cobblers and
tinkers. But they will not get the better of the impetuous enemy. When
the old man, who is playing the general, is in the greatest distress--I
will let him struggle a good while as a punishment--then will I ride
out with my cavalry like the storm of the desert, and sweep them before
me. But first to the priest. No one in the town is now thinking of
anything but the barbarians outside the gates. So I can accomplish it
unnoticed. The danger from that priest must be very threatening, when
the cowardly gold-sack himself counsels bloody means. He has ever
menaced me, the psalm-whiner. First security and revenge, then the
pleasure of victory, and for a reward--Felicitas. Let Pluto be
saddled," commanded he the old slave, "and help me to arm."

The old man took the order to the court below, and then returned to the
tower. Leo had already put on the tall helmet with its flowing plume,
and the splendid greaves, and the slave now helped his master to clasp
and buckle over the dark-red tunic the magnificent breast-armour, which
was adorned with many orders and distinctions. When Leo had girded on
the sword, and was going to take the bronze shield, with the long,
sharp spike in the centre, the old man took carefully from a small
ivory box, which stood in the corner near the couch, a narrow leather
strap with two diminutive appendages, and with an entreating, silent,
impressively eloquent look, offered the charm to his master. It was a
small, ugly idol in amber, and a tiny silver case.

"Take it, my lord!" entreated the Greek, as Leo contemptuously pushed
it away.

"What shall I do with that? What sort of"----

"Do not revile them," implored the old man; "or they will be malicious
and protect no longer. Dost thou not know them, the guarding jewels?
The one is the Egyptian god, Phtha, and the capsule encloses a hair of
the beard of the Apostle Paul. If the first does not help, the second
will. Wear to-day both. I had last night a bad dream.