d and, with the cry: "Odin is upon
us! Odin is leading them! All is lost," ran back to the ditch at full
speed. Two of his comrades followed his example, and all three leaped
into the ditch shouting: "All is lost! Odin is upon us! Fly!"

Rignomer was considered the bravest of his race, so even the Batavians,
who were too far off to understand his words, were infected by his
example; for they saw their leader unarmed, running with every sign of
the utmost terror from the ditch toward the northern gate to tear it
open and vanish in the camp.

"Fly! Fly! All is lost!"

Most of the men had understood this and, with the same shouts, they now
climbed up the wall or poured through the open gate.

Brinno alone had not fled from the post: at Rignomer's cry, also
greatly alarmed, he had leaped behind the nearest tree, but here,
looking sharply at the terrible horseman, he recovered his composure:
"Nonsense!" he called after his flying comrades. "His horse has only
four feet, not eight. That is not _he_!" He stepped forward bravely
with levelled spear, but the next instant was thrown down by the Duke's
charger and, directly after, about thirty mounted men leaped into the
ditch, which was now no longer defended, and dashed to the right and
left in pursuit of the fugitives who were running along the bottom. The
space around the gate was almost empty, swept clean in an instant.

Hariowald himself had ridden straight toward the gate, but just before
he reached it, it was flung back from within, shutting out several
fugitives who were trying to enter. The Duke sprang from his horse; the
intelligent animal instantly stood motionless. He beckoned to his
mounted men and to a small band who, meanwhile, had reached the ditch
on foot, to follow him to the left of the gate, where rose a huge
stone. A large number of other foot-soldiers now also reached the gate
and, mounting ladders they had brought with them (which, strangely
enough, were exactly the length required to reach from the bottom of
the ditch to the wall), or even climbing on one another's backs,
endeavored to scale the wall or to break down the gate with axes.

But here they now encountered vigorous resistance. Arrows, spears,
beams, stones flew down upon them: a battle was impending; the attempt
to enter the gate with the fugitives had failed. Saturninus had closed
it and shot the huge iron bolt with his own strong hand. Awakened by
the furious baying of his dogs, he had m