nly
promised, in the presence of her uncle and her grandmother, not to take
her away and never even to say a word about it: 'For,' she said, with
tears in her eyes, 'in that hot country I should die of homesickness
for my own family, the neighbors, nay, even for the mountain, the
meadow, and lake, like the forest flowers transplanted from the marshy
soil into dry sand.'"

"A sensible child," remarked the Tribune thoughtfully, stroking his
beautiful brown beard. "So she is pretty?"

"I think so!" cried Herculanus: the voice sounded almost savage.

"Why, nephew, you have never seen her."

"But you have described her to us often enough! I could paint her, with
her bright red locks."

"And her name is Bissula?" Saturninus added.

"Yes, 'the little one,'" replied Ausonius, "for she is very slender and
delicate of limb. I then saw her regularly again, but kept my promise
not to ask her to go with me. When I bade her farewell, she wept with a
child's loving tears. 'With you,' she said 'I part from a warm, bright,
beautiful world, into which, as it were, I peeped, standing on tiptoe,
over a curtain.'

"Recently, on reaching Vindonissa--during my journey through the
country I had thought much of the charming child--I saw her before me
in a dream the first night, encircled by a poisonous serpent. Her eyes
were raised to mine, imploring help, I woke with a cry, and my heart
grew heavy at the thought of what might befall the lovely girl--for she
must have become beautiful--if our cohorts bring all the horrors of war
into the forests along the shore of the lake. And I confess, it was
principally to see that child again--perhaps to protect her until the
war should be over--that I entreated the Emperor to permit me to join
this expedition."

CHAPTER XII.

"But I suppose you did not think your uncle's life would be
sufficiently safe under my protection, Herculanus, since you were so
eager to join us?" asked the Tribune.

Before the nephew could answer, Ausonius interrupted: "But--thank the
gods--our campaign will be bloodless: the Barbarians have abandoned the
country. Where can they have gone? What have you learned through your
spies of the movements of the enemy?"

"Nothing. That is the mysterious part of it. It seems as though the
earth had swallowed them. They are said to have numerous subterranean
passages and cellars, in which they conceal their provisions and
themselves in times o