id very, very charming. I don't deny it; the first time
I saw her--well, she certainly would displease no one! But I soon told
myself what the duty of friendship commanded, and remembered that my
life belongs wholly to the god of war. I ordered my heart to calm my
blood. They belong to a soldier, and instantly obeyed."

At these words Bissula, in spite of the warning, or perhaps on account
of it, had flushed crimson and glided away from the two men. She was
just slipping out of the tent; but Saturninus gently caught her by the
hair, held her firmly, laughing merrily, and said: "Stay, little one.
The worst is over now, at any rate from me."

"But why," Ausonius went on, "have you all this time--Even yesterday--"

"Because I suspected your nephew's murderous designs, though only
against her. I could protect her solely as her master. If she had
remained, as you desired, in your tent, he could have killed the
unguarded girl at any hour of the day or night. I watched her for you!
Now it is no longer necessary. Obey your heart. I will leave you
alone."

"Yes, but what more is to be done?" asked Bissula plaintively, holding
the Tribune--she did not know why--firmly by the arm. "I am so tired!"
she added. "Let me go to sleep now. And to-morrow, away! Back to my
people!"

"Yes, my noble friend," said Ausonius, with a certain solemnity, slowly
rising from his couch, "stay! I myself desire it. You shall be the
first witness: my resolution is formed, unalterable! Bissula, I owe my
life to you: in return there is but one reward--this life, my life
itself."

The girl drew back in terror. She did not understand him.

"A slave was of course impossible. To wed even his own freedwoman is
against the law for a Senator; but I shall undoubtedly receive a
dispensation from the Emperor, and I care nothing for the jests of my
colleagues."

"What do you want to do with me?" asked the young girl anxiously.

"Except the Caesar," Ausonius went on thoughtfully, "no man in the
Western Empire stands above me; only two are of equal rank. I am
Praefectus Praetorio of Gaul. Nay, more,--no one knows it yet, not even
you,--my Saturninus,--the Emperor has promised me next year the highest
honor in the Roman State. This coming year will take its name from me."

"You are to be Consul?" cried the Tribune, reverently.

"What is it? What does it mean?" asked the poor girl, now thoroughly
frightened. The solemnity, and the numerous Roman names of di