man running at his
heels, darted toward the entrance. Prosper shouted loudly, but Davus
went no farther than the door; for here he encountered the Batavian,
Rignomer, who seized him by the throat and held him fast.

Ausonius, horrified and bewildered, had set the goblet on the table
before him, and now raised Bissula's head. "Poison?" he asked
sorrowfully. "Poison me? Who?"

"The dog of a slave, of course!" cried Herculanus, struggling furiously
in the Illyrian's hold. "Are you in league with Davus, Tribune? Why do
you prevent me from punishing the scoundrel?" And now he actually
succeeded in releasing his right hand and gripping the dagger in his
belt.

"Don't let him go," shrieked Bissula, who had now recovered her senses.
"He is the instigator!"

Just at that moment, summoned by Prosper, who had rushed out screaming
for help, two Thracians on guard before the Prefect's tent, and two
Illyrians who chanced to be passing, came in and, by the Tribune's
orders, seized Herculanus and the slave, who, pale and trembling, could
scarcely stand.

Ausonius, groaning aloud, sank back on his pillows.

CHAPTER XLIII.

Saturninus, no longer occupied with his prisoner, stepped forward into
the centre of the tent, saying: "In the name of the Emperor Gratianus!
As General and Commander of this camp I open the investigation. Speak,
girl! You, a slave, a captive Barbarian, are making a terrible charge
against a Roman leader. Weigh your words! Death is the penalty for
false accusation of such a deed."

But Bissula did not shrink. She had now recovered her strength and
calmness, and gave no thought to herself; her mind was occupied solely
with the old friend who lay sighing on his cushions, and who had never
been so dear to her as in the helplessness of his anguish. Briefly,
clearly, and simply she related the conversation between the two men,
to which, in the boughs of the pine-tree, she had been an involuntary
listener.

"Miserable lies," shrieked Herculanus, stamping his foot. "The wench
wants to become my uncle's wanton and ruin his nephew, the heir. The
whole story is an invention,--the entire tale of hiding in the tree!
When I came in here she stood watching beside the tent."

"That is a base falsehood," said Rignomer, stepping forward. "I swear
that she has just come down from the tree: I had been following
her--unseen--for half an hour."

"Aha, do you hear, uncle? Another lover!" snee