d. The shepherds were driving goats and
sheep home from the hills, accompanied by large dogs, which scampered
on in front, barking joyously.

Close before the yard gate, a couple of Roman slaves, with shrill
voices and mad gestures, were urging on the panting horses of a cruelly
over-laden wagon, not with whips, but with sticks, the iron points of
which they stuck again and again into the same sore place upon the poor
animals' hides. In spite of this, no advance was made, for a large
stone lay just in front of the left fore-wheel of the wagon, which the
angry and impatient drivers did not notice.

"Forwards, beast! and son of a beast!" screamed one of them to the
struggling horse; "forwards, thou Gothic sluggard!" Another stab with
the iron point, a renewed and desperate pull; but the wheel did not go
over the stone, and the tortured animal fell on its knees, threatening
to upset the wagon by its struggles.

At this the rage of the driver was redoubled. "Wait, thou rascal!" he
shouted, and struck at the eye of the panting animal.

But he only struck once; the next moment he himself fell under a heavy
blow.

"Davus, thou wicked dog!" growled a powerful voice, and, twice as tall,
and certainly twice as broad as the frightened tormentor, there stood
over the fallen man a gigantic Goth, who rained down blows upon him
with a thick cudgel. "Thou miserable coward," said he, giving him a
final kick, "I will teach thee how to treat a creature which is ten
times better than thyself. I verily believe, thou rascal, that thou
treatest the beast ill, because he comes from the other side of the
mountains! If I catch thee at it again, I will break every bone in thy
body. Now get up, and unload--thou shalt carry every swath that is too
much into the barn upon thine own back. Forwards!"

With a malicious glance at his punisher the beaten man rose, and,
limping, prepared to obey.

The Goth had immediately helped the struggling horse to its feet, and
now carefully washed its broken knees with his own evening drink of
wine and water.

He had scarcely finished his task, when the clear voice of a boy called
urgently from a neighbouring stable:

"Wachis, come here; Wachis!"

"I'm coming, Athalwin, my boy! What's the matter?" And he already stood
in the open door of the stable near a handsome boy of about seven years
of age, who angrily stroked his long yellow hair from his glowing face,
and with great trouble repressed two large t