as the only answer. The fugitive had already
disappeared around the corner.

Meanwhile Herculanus, seizing the sharp axe with both hands and bending
downward, dealt blows with all his strength upon the oak-block which
held his feet, just between the two holes pierced from the top to the
bottom. At last the solid wood parted, breaking open the holes; two
more blows severed the shackles which bound his feet to the two halves.
The prisoner was free. Yet it was only with difficulty and severe pain
that he could use his legs, stiffened by sitting still so many hours
and swollen by the pressure on the bones. But the desire to live, the
hope of escape, conquered the pain: he walked, at first very slowly,
toward Davus, who had watched him enviously.

"Help me out too. You, you alone, have brought me to this."

"Yes, traitor, I'll help you out," cried the other, with an angry
laugh. Cleaving the slave's skull with the axe, he ran on more quickly,
his limbs becoming more supple at every step, toward the western end of
the cross street; for the noise from the east grew louder and louder.

The conflagration did not extend to this part of the camp. He glided
into a tent and hid himself, for he still had cause to fear his own
countrymen almost as much as the Barbarians. Here he found a short
dagger, like those worn by the Thracians, which he thrust into his
belt; he then put down the long-handled heavy axe, which had burdened
him while running.

Ausonius dead! Perhaps all who knew of that incident were dead too! He
could not shake off the thought while peering cautiously between two
folds of the tent, watching for a way of escape between Romans and
Barbarians.

CHAPTER LI.

Herculanus was mistaken: Ausonius was not slain. In the attempt to leap
from one cart to another he had fallen between them and slightly hurt
his foot. But Decius and some legionaries of the Twenty-second Cohort
had helped him up again and taken him at once to the Decumanian Gate.
Here, meanwhile, the Tribune had quickly made his arrangements,
gathering the fugitives arriving singly around a body of his Illyrians,
to whom he also entrusted the standard.

"Where is the ala of mailed riders whom I ordered here, forbidding them
to dismount? We need them now at the head of the sortie."

"Alas, Tribune, in the turmoil, in the pressure on the gate and the
walls, we all dismounted and fought on foot. Our horses are gone; they