ent, and
was already standing under the curtains at the entrance, when
Saturninus cried: "And what name has the envoy of the Alemanni?"

The youth turned quickly and, comprehending the whole group in a single
glance, exclaimed: "Adalo, son of Adalger. You shall remember it." He
passed outside the tent as he spoke.

"Uncle," cried Herculanus, "wasn't that the fellow's name? Yes, yes, it
is he: the 'Mars of the Alemanni!' Seize him--and the war is over!"

Before Ausonius could answer, Saturninus, hurrying out of the tent,
said: "Beware, Ausonius! Nothing in heaven or on earth seems to be
sacred to this nephew of yours. But that Barbarian's eyes must be
quickly bandaged again; their glance is like an eagle's." He hastened
after the envoy.

Ausonius, vexed by many things, said very irritably, in a tone almost
never heard from the lips of the kind-hearted noble: "I have long been
displeased with you, nephew Herculanus. I am very much displeased.
Very! Extremely!"

He passed him with a hasty step, harshly thrusting aside the arms which
Herculanus stretched toward him with a soothing gesture. The nephew's
eyes followed him with a glance that boded evil.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Meanwhile the Batavians, Adalo's two companions, and the bear-leader
had lain chattering peaceably together around the campfire.

There was, in general, so total a lack of any feeling of unity among
the various German tribes that the Alemanni did not think of openly
reproaching the Batavians, or even cherishing any secret resentment
because they were fighting under Roman standards against other Germans:
Alemanni mercenaries also fought against the German, as well as against
the other foes of Rome.

So the Roman bronze vessel, filled with dark red Rhaetian wine, was
passed to the two Alemanni also, and the Batavians gladly drank the
mead which Adalo's companions had brought in long wooden vessels
fastened on their backs. For in those days the thirst of the Alemanni
was great and frequent, and the brave fellows--hospitality in the
enemy's camp had not been expected--would have been reluctant to do
without liquor during the long hours consumed on the journey there, the
waiting, and the return.

The Sarmatian, with laudable impartiality, drank wine and mead by
turns. He, too, at a sign from Rignomer, had taken his seat by the
fire. The bear lay stretched at full length at his side, while he began
to throw sharp knives in