and fierce aspect, in the
dress of a serf, a rough tunic and leggings. His head was bare, and he
looked around him in dismay, like a beast in a trap. Behind, at the
edge of the clearing, stood four soldiers silent, with bows strung and
arrows fitted to the string. Over the whole group there seemed to be
the shadow of a stern purpose. At the appearance of Paullinus, the two
chiefs hurriedly bent together in talk, and looked at him with
astonishment. Paullinus came down to the water's edge, when one of the
chiefs said, "We have come for the priest; where is he? For he must do
his office upon this man, who hath slain one of his kin by stealth."

"It is too late," said Paullinus; "he is dead, and waits for burial."

Then the chiefs seemed again to confer together, and one of them, with
a strange reverence, said, "Then you are the new priest of the temple?
And yet it seems strange, for you are not of our nation."

"Nay," said Paullinus, "I am a wanderer, a Roman. It was not I who
slew him--it was the great beast who lived in the den yonder; and the
beast have I slain--but come over and let me tell you all the tale."

So he made haste to put out the bridge, and the two chiefs came over
in silence, leaving the prisoner in the hands of the guards who
surrounded him. Paullinus led them to the temple, which he could
hardly prevail upon them to enter, and showed them the dead body,
which was a fearful sight enough; then he showed them the broken gate
and the empty den, and then he led them to the mound where the beast
lay buried, and offered if they would to uncover the body. "Nay, we
would not see him," said the elder chief in a low voice; "it is
enough."

Paullinus then led them to the hut and told them the story from
beginning to end. The chiefs looked at him with surprise when he told
them of the beast's death, and one of them said, "I doubt, sir, you
slew him by Roman magic--for he was exceedingly strong, and you look
not much of a warrior." "Nay," said Paullinus, smiling, "I doubt he
was his own death, as is often the end of evil--he leapt upon the
pole: I did but hold it, and the Lord made my hand strong."

When he had done the story the chiefs spoke together a little in a low
tone. Then one of them said, "This is a strange tale, sir. And it
seems to us that you must be a man whom the gods love, for you stayed
here a night with the priest--who was a fierce man and no friend of
strangers--and received no hurt. And the