ter this unwonted
outburst, 'we must once more seriously consider whether it is wise to
hold on our present course. If you return to Carthage, or to Hippo--'

'I shall be beheaded.'

'Most assuredly. And how much soever you may consider such an event a
gain to yourself, yet for the sake of your son and your daughter--'

'My dear sir,' interrupted the Prefect, 'you mean kindly. But do not, do
not tempt me. By the Count's side I have fought for thirty years, and by
his side I will die, as I deserve.'

'Victorius! Victoria!' cried Raphael; 'help me! Your father,' he went
on, as they came out from the tent, 'is still decided on losing his own
head, and throwing away ours, by going to Carthage.'

'For my sake--for our sakes--father!' cried Victoria, clinging to him.

'And for my sake, also, most excellent sir,' said Raphael, smiling
quietly. 'I have no wish to be so uncourteous as to urge any help which
I may have seemed to afford you. But I hope that you will recollect that
I have a life to lose, and that it is hardly fair of you to imperil it
as you intend to do. If you could help or save Heraclian, I should be
dumb at once. But now, for a mere point of honour to destroy fifty good
soldiers, who know not their right hands from their left--Shall I ask
their opinion?'

'Will you raise a mutiny against me, sir?' asked the old man sternly.

'Why not mutiny against Philip drunk, in behalf of Philip sober? But
really, I will obey you.... only you must obey us.... What is Hesiod's
definition of the man who will neither counsel himself nor be counselled
by his friends?.... Have you no trusty acquaintances in Cyrenaica, for
instance?'

The Prefect was silent.

'Oh, hear us, my father! Why not go to Euodius? He is your old
comrade--a well-wisher, too, to this.... this expedition.... And
recollect, Augustine must be there now. He was about to sail for
Berenice, in order to consult Synesius and the Pentapolitan bishops,
when we left Carthage.'

And at the name of Augustine the old man paused.

'Augustine will be there; true. And this our friend must meet him.
And thus at least I should have his advice. If he thinks it my duty to
return to Carthage, I can but do so, after all. But the soldiers!'

'Excellent sir,' said Raphael, 'Synesius and the Pentapolitan
landlords--who can hardly call their lives their own, thanks to the
Moors--will be glad enough to feed and pay them, or any other brave
fellows with arms in their ha