--" I began.

'"In War it is as it is in Love," said Pertinax. "Whether she be good or
bad, one gives one's best once, to one only. That given, there remains no
second worth giving or taking."

'"That is true," said Ambrosius. "I was with Maximus before he died. He
warned Theodosius that you would never serve him, and frankly I say I am
sorry for my Emperor."

'"He has Rome to console him," said Pertinax. "I ask you of your kindness
to let us go to our homes and get this smell out of our nostrils."

'None the less they gave us a Triumph!'

'It was well earned,' said Puck, throwing some leaves into the still water
of the marlpit. The black, oily circles spread dizzily as the children
watched them.

'I want to know, oh, ever so many things,' said Dan, 'What happened to old
Allo? Did the Winged Hats ever come back? And what did Amal do?'

'And what happened to the fat old General with the five cooks?' said Una.
'And what did your Mother say when you came home?'...

'She'd say you're settin' too long over this old pit, so late as 'tis
already,' said old Hobden's voice behind them. 'Hst!' he whispered.

He stood still, for not twenty paces away a magnificent dog-fox sat on his
haunches and looked at the children as though he were an old friend of
theirs.

'Oh, Mus' Reynolds, Mus' Reynolds!' said Hobden, under his breath. 'If I
knowed all was inside your head, I'd know something wuth knowin'. Mus' Dan
an' Miss Una, come along o' me while I lock up my liddle hen-house.'

A PICT SONG

_Rome never looks where she treads,_
_Always her heavy hooves fall,_
_On our stomachs, our hearts or our heads;_
_And Rome never heeds when we bawl._
_Her sentries pass on--that is all,_
_And we gather behind them in hordes,_
_And plot to reconquer the Wall,_
_With only our tongues for our swords._

_We are the Little Folk--we!_
_Too little to love or to hate._
_Leave us alone and you'll see_
_How we can drag down the Great!_
_We are the worm in the wood!_
_We are the rot at the root!_
_We are the germ in the blood!_
_We are the thorn in the foot!_

_Mistletoe killing an oak--_
_Rats gnawing cables in two--_
_Moths making holes in a cloak--_
_How they must love what they do!_
_Yes,--and we Little Folk too,_
_We are as busy as they--_
_Working our works out of view--_
_Watch, and you'll see it some day!_

_No indeed! We are not strong,_