the
earth in the wall had been washed away by the rain between the
palisades in many places; I squeezed into one and got my head and one
arm through, but could go no farther, my shoulders were too broad.
Then for a while I was very uncomfortable; I couldn't move forward
and did not want to go back without having seen something; besides,
the cramping hurt. Suddenly I heard voices, footsteps, and saw
hurrying toward me along the inner path of the camp, close to the
wall--Bissula."

Adalo uttered a cry of joy, and the Duke, too, looked at the bold lad
with surprise and pleasure.

"Several paces behind her a fat, very fat man came waddling along. She
didn't see me, for she was looking straight in front of her, and her
face was not merry as usual, but very sorrowful. I risked the chance
that the panting fellow would hear me. But I didn't trust myself to
call with a human voice; I began the warbling notes of the chaffinch.
Often and often we had practised together to try which could imitate it
the more closely; but I did better and lured the little male bird in a
fit of furious jealousy to my hiding-place among the leaves. Bissula
started, looked toward the gap in the palisades where the bird--so late
in the season--was singing, saw and instantly recognized me; she could
probably see only my eyes, not my disfiguring sooty hair. Stooping as
if to look for the finch, she whispered: 'Save me quickly.'"

An expression of delight flashed over Adalo's handsome face. "She does
not love him; she wants to return!" his heart cried exultingly. Sippilo
noticed it and guessed the cause of his joy. His young face grew very
grave as he went on: "But alas, she added: 'Terrible danger, the
greatest, threatens me!'"

Adalo groaned and clutched the nearest tent pole to support himself:
his brain was reeling.

"Go on," said the Duke.

"She could say no more, for the fat man was now close behind her: I saw
some long yellowish-white thing sticking out of the front of his
mantle.

"'This is unbearable!' she cried furiously, turning upon him. 'Are you
my shadow, slave? Why do you follow at my heels? Leave me!'

"'By command of my lord the Tribune.'

"'Indeed?' she cried, half mischievously, half angrily. 'Then--by
command of your lord, the Tribune, you shall run and sweat well. Can
you catch the roe of the lake forest?'

"And she darted off as swiftly as the merlin shoots down the mountain
stream. The fat man, panting and swearing, fol