ven then, no," I said. "At least not now. They have been too
oppressed by us to trust anything with a Roman name for years and
years."

'I heard old Allo behind me mutter: "Good child!"

"'Then what do you recommend," said Maximus, "to keep the North quiet
till I win Gaul?"

"'Leave the Picts alone," I said. "Stop the heather-burning at once,
and--they are improvident little animals--send them a shipload or two
of corn now and then."

"'Their own men must distribute it--not some cheating Greek
accountant," said Pertinax.

"'Yes, and allow them to come to our hospitals when they are sick," I
said.

"'Surely they would die first," said Maximus.

"'Not if Parnesius brought them in," said Allo. "I could show you
twenty wolf-bitten, bear-clawed Picts within twenty miles of here. But
Parnesius must stay with them in hospital, else they would go mad with
fear."

"'I see," said Maximus. "Like everything else in the world, it is one
man's work. You, I think, are that one man."

"'Pertinax and I are one," I said.

"'As you please, so long as you work. Now, Allo, you know that I mean
your people no harm. Leave us to talk together," said Maximus.

"'No need!" said Allo. "I am the corn between the upper and lower
millstones. I must know what the lower millstone means to do. These
boys have spoken the truth as far as they know it. I, a Prince, will
tell you the rest. I am troubled about the Men of the North." He
squatted like a hare in the heather, and looked over his shoulder.

"'I also," said Maximus, "or I should not be here."

"'Listen," said Allo. "Long and long ago the Winged Hats"--he meant
the Northmen--"came to our beaches and said, 'Rome falls! Push her
down!' We fought you. You sent men. We were beaten. After that we
said to the Winged Hats, 'You are liars! Make our men alive that Rome
killed, and we will believe you.' They went away ashamed. Now they
come back bold, and they tell the old tale, which we begin to
believe--that Rome falls!"

"'Give me three years' peace on the Wall," cried Maximus, "and I will
show you and all the ravens how they lie!"

"'Ah, I wish it too! I wish to save what is left of the corn from the
millstones. But you shoot us Picts when we come to borrow a little
iron from the Iron Ditch; you burn our heather, which is all our crop;
you trouble us with your great catapults. Then you hide behind the
Wall, and scorch us with Greek fire. How can I keep my y