d. She could hear the long hairs rasp on his
shimmery shoulder-plates.

'What does the Faun mean,' he said, half aloud to himself, 'by telling
me that the Painted People have changed?' He caught sight of Una's
yellow head. 'Have you seen a painted lead-slinger?' he called.

'No-o,' said Una. 'But if you've seen a bullet--'

'Seen?' cried the man. 'It passed within a hair's--breadth of my ear.'

'Well, that was me. I'm most awfully sorry.'

'Didn't the Faun tell you I was coming?' He smiled.

'Not if you mean Puck. I thought you were a Gleason cow. I--I didn't
know you were a--a--What are you?'

He laughed outright, showing a set of splendid teeth. His face and eyes
were dark, and his eyebrows met above his big nose in one bushy black
bar.

'They call me Parnesius. I have been a Centurion of the Seventh Cohort
of the Thirtieth Legion--the Ulpia Victrix. Did you sling that bullet?'

'I did. I was using Dan's catapult,' said Una.

'Catapults!' said he. 'I ought to know something about them. Show me!'

He leaped the rough fence with a rattle of spear, shield, and armour,
and hoisted himself into Volaterrae as quickly as a shadow.

'A sling on a forked stick. I understand!' he cried, and pulled at the
elastic. 'But what wonderful beast yields this stretching leather?'

'It's laccy--elastic. You put the bullet into that loop, and then you
pull hard.'

The man pulled, and hit himself square on his thumbnail.

'Each to his own weapon,' he said gravely, handing it back. 'I am
better with the bigger machine, little maiden. But it's a pretty toy.
A wolf would laugh at it. Aren't you afraid of wolves?'

'There aren't any,' said Una.

'Never believe it! A wolf's like a Winged Hat. He comes when he isn't
expected. Don't they hunt wolves here?'

'We don't hunt,'said Una, remembering what she had heard from
grown-ups. 'We preserve--pheasants. Do you know them?'

'I ought to,' said the young man, smiling again, and he imitated the
cry of the cock-pheasant so perfectly that a bird answered out of the
wood.

'What a big painted clucking fool is a pheasant!' he said. 'Just like
some Romans.'

'But you're a Roman yourself, aren't you?' said Una.

'Ye-es and no. I'm one of a good few thousands who have never seen
Rome except in a picture. My people have lived at Vectis for
generations. Vectis--that island West yonder that you can see from so
far in clear weather.'

'Do you mean the Isle