The largest galley, an old war ship which still bore the figure of Amphitrite on its prow, displayed a purple streamer, and the smallest foresail was of the same color; for she carried the Commander of the squadron.

"At last!" the able officer exclaimed as, the first man in the whole armada, he leaped from his galley into the boat which lay rocking at its bowsprit. He ran across the whole line of small vessels to the shore, and sprang with one impatient leap from the last boat across the marshy ground to the solid land to meet the Illyrian, who received him with outstretched arms.

"At last, my friend, I bring ships and men. It has been a long delay."

"I know it was no fault of yours."

"The CÆsar has already sent the guilty men to the mines. Where is the Prefect?"

"Up above, in the camp. He is not well."

"I have letters for him from the Emperor."

"Has no news come from the Emperor Valens yet?" asked Saturninus anxiously.

"Yes, very late news."

"How do matters stand between him and the Goths?"

"Well for him and badly for the Barbarians. They are suffering terribly from hunger. His last letter declines, and right arrogantly, any assistance from Gratianus and our army."

"He doesn't wish to share the fame of the victory with his nephew," said the Tribune, mounting his horse and inviting his friend to ride up the mountain on the beautiful charger brought for his use. Nannienus swung himself into the saddle, and continued:

"A decisive battle is impending, Valens writes. He is marching upon Adrianople, where the Goths are encamped. Why, the horse is sinking here! Are there marshes so far up?"

"Yes, it is the ancient bottom of the lake. So, the die has probably already fallen yonder on the Ister! Well, our little campaign will probably soon be over too. How many helmets do you bring?"

"Thirteen hundred."

"More than enough. Early to-morrow morning we will divide our forces. Five hundred men will remain in the camp: You will march with the rest toward the northeast, I to the northwest, until we at last find and scatter these incomprehensible foes. Did you see nothing suspicious on your voyage across the lake?"

"Nothing at all. Not a sail, far or near."

"Now that we have ships, we can also search the two tracts of marshland overgrown with rushes, which stretch for leagues on the right and left. We once thought we saw a column of smoke rising in the western marsh."

"That shall be done to-morrow, before we march. A naval battle on Lake Venetia! It has scarcely happened since the days of Tiberius."

"But I am glad to know that you are here on land with your men: Welcome once more to the Barbarian country and to my camp."

With these words the two commanders, followed by a glittering train of Nannienus's officers and the Tribune's mailed riders, passed through the Porta Decumana, which now stood wide open; for the Tribune's men were pouring out, down the mountain side and through the damp meadows and bogs of the half league of country to the shore, to greet their comrades on the fleet.

Bissula had crouched and made herself as small as possible, that she might slip out unseen like a little mouse from her hiding-place east of the lake gate. But the Illyrian guards were rigidly trained: two gigantic Thracians--one on each side of the threshold--held their spears crossed before the opening, and scanned sharply every one who went in or out. The young girl had crept successfully between the outstretched legs of one, when she struck her head against the shaft of the other's spear. The man's attention was attracted; he recognized her and pushed her gently but irresistibly back.

"No, no!" he said, laughing. "You mustn't go out, you little red serpent! I should get a double drubbing--from the Tribune on the right and the Prefect on the left. Stay inside."

Bissula, her eyes brimming with tears of impotent rage, was obliged to go back: and there, outside the gate, liberty was beckoning; there laughed (she saw it again, for the first time through the open gate) in its azure splendor her beloved lake; there on the right rustled the trees which surrounded Adalo's hall, and there flew a gull, screaming loudly with delight in life and joy in its free movement, across the rushes of the marshy shore. Alas! and she must go back into the camp, to an uncertain fate. To-morrow she was to leave the country, to go--whither?

"Oh, Adalo, help soon!"

Since the night before she had constantly whispered his name, again and again, as though it were a protecting spell.

On reaching her tent, she untied the bear, which was becoming wildly excited by the noise of the soldiers, and dragged it by the collar inside of the inclosure, where she remained all day. She was not disturbed. Prosper brought wine and food, and told her that his master's whole time was claimed by Nannienus and the other guests; but early the next morning she must be ready to take ship for Constantia, then to go to the Emperor at Vindonissa, and lastly, to his beautiful home. Bissula made no answer.

Leaving the viands untouched, she crouched like some captured wild beast in the corner of her tent farthest from the entrance, with her eyes fixed intently upon it, listening with anxiety and dread to every sound which drew nearer to her tent from the streets of the camp. Faithful Bruna lay across the threshold; she was the girl's only comfort.