d dreamed. She could not realize, could not believe that such a deed
was possible. His own nephew--that kind-hearted man!

And yet it was true. Haste was necessary. The hour for the meal had
already come, and Ausonius always began by drinking from the Emperor's
goblet, with the three beautiful female figures, to the health of the
Emperor Gratianus.

Those two men had the start, too, and it was a considerable distance
from this extreme northwestern corner of the camp to the Praetorium in
the south. Turning, she ran as swiftly as she could, but had only
reached the corner of the nearest street of tents when she shrieked
aloud in terror. An iron hand grasped her arm.

"Help!" she screamed despairingly. "Help! Help for Ausonius!"

"Why are you shrieking like a dying leveret, little one?" replied a
deep voice. "Where are you going so fast?"

"Let me go, whoever you may be! The Prefect's life is in danger! Who
are you?"

"I am Rignomer. I followed you unnoticed till you climbed the tree. You
wouldn't have seen me now, if you hadn't dashed away as though you were
driven by the elves. Where are you going?"

"To the Prefect! They want to murder him!"

"Oh, nonsense, what are you talking about? Who?"

"Don't ask! Come with me! Hurry! Alas, perhaps even now it is too
late."

The Batavian yielded to this unmistakable despair. Without removing his
hand from her arm, he ran beside her.

"Where is the Tribune?" asked Bissula.

"With the Prefect: some news has come from Arbor."

"The gods be thanked. He is the only one who can help!"

On they ran through the streets of the camp, now perfectly dark except
where fires were glimmering at the corners. Suddenly Bissula fell. The
German dragged her up.

"A tent rope! You must keep more in the middle. But you are limping!
Did you hurt yourself?"

"A little. Keep on."

But she reeled; her feet refused to carry her.

"Now it's lucky that I caught you," said the soldier, swinging her on
his arm like a child. And Bissula, who usually so fiercely resisted
every touch, willingly permitted it.

"Throw your arms around my neck, little one! There. Now hold fast! It
won't be long" ("unfortunately" he thought, but took good care not to
say it), "we shall reach there directly." And he pressed on swiftly and
sturdily with his light, beautiful burden.

CHAPTER XLII.

A slender bluish flame, burning in a marble vessel supported by a
bronze pedesta