When the next morning the summer sun rose magnificently over Juvavum, and the golden oriole began its flute-like song, young Liuthari sprang up, a healed and a wiser man.

The wound in his arm no longer pained, and his imagination, which had been much more excited than his heart, was stilled.

No longer dissatisfied with himself, joyful and composed, he first cooled his face in the spring, and then, carefully hiding the wounded arm under his mantle, he walked up the steps into the outer room. Haduwalt, yawning and stretching up both his arms, received him with the words:

"But thou hast long slept. And I--I think I have not closed my eyes the whole night."

"But perhaps the ears!" laughed Liuthari. "Where is the mistress? I am hungry."

"Here am I," cried Felicitas. "I will bring you directly fresh-laid eggs, and milk, and honey. Philemon is now milking the cow in the meadow behind the house."

"Only think," said she, now stepping from behind the curtain and offering a hand to each guest: "very early, as soon as the gates were again opened, the old slave came back from the town by the meadow-path, and awoke me knocking at the outer door. I had slept so firmly."

"And very sweetly dreamt?" said Liuthari, smiling.

"Yes--as always, if I dream: of Fulvius. Certainly Philemon has not found his master; but still I am of good cheer. The good Johannes had caused the dead and the wounded to be brought together--the former in front of, and the latter into the church. Philemon carefully inspected them. Thanks to the God of heaven, the saints and the good Genii, my Fulvius is not among them." And she sat down with her guests.

Philemon brought an immense jug fall of foaming warm milk. He threw a wondering look on the two Germans, whom his mistress had represented to him as protectors, not enemies, and he went again to the back of the house. Felicitas followed him to fetch the child, which seemed to be waking.

"Tell me now, grim teacher and armour-master," began Liuthari, "wilt thou in thine old age learn woman's handiwork, and the art of using thread? What hast thou there trailing at thy girdle?"

Quite taken aback the old giant looked down at his portly person, and at the long, long thread which was entangled about his clumsy feet.

"That? Oh, that is only something between the mistress and myself. She has become so fond of me--much more so than of thee--and that I should not escape her, she bound me fast to her couch."

"Thou wouldest complain of me to my mother----!"

"Yes; if I had not kept watch, who knows----!"

"Now I will accuse thee to thy wife, the strict Grimmtrud, that thou didst bind thyself to the couch of a young beauty."

The young man stooped down, picked up the ball, and put it in his vest.

"I shall keep the thread," continued he gravely, "as a remembrance of the hour when Haduwalt slept, the thread lay loose on the ground, but Liuthari watched--for three."

Felicitas after a while again came in, the child on her arm.

"The day advances," sighed she, "and I begin to be very anxious. My Fulvius, where mayest thou be?"

"Here I am," cried a joyous, clear voice, and the longed-for husband rushed in through the open doorway.

With a cry of happiness Felicitas sprang up. He folded mother and child tenderly in his arms.

Liuthari rose. He looked at them without pain, and regarded the husband with a frank, happy look, who, however, astonished, drew back a step, and measured the handsome young man with his eyes. Hot fear flashed through him in an instant; but the alarm disappeared, fleeing like a cloud-shadow, when he looked into His wife's face, so peaceful, so radiantly happy.

"What has happened to me, my darling? The day before yesterday shut up in the debtor's tower, early yesterday set free by Severus, taken by him to the battle--we were defeated--I fled, was pursued, fell into the river, was carried away by the stream--half stupefied I at last reached the bank--was taken prisoner by other horsemen, led into the town, and this morning--saved by a miracle of the Lord or the holy Saint Peter, I know not which."

"A miracle! Oh, thank the mercy of the God of heaven! He heard my prayer! But what miracle?"

"Johannes, who never wearies in the care of his people, had already yesterday evening besought the barbarian Duke to release all the citizens of Juvavum who were prisoners of war. The powerful prince answered that he would willingly set free all that fell to his share of the booty, but those that fell to his warriors he had not the power to release, only to redeem--quite a different law prevails with the Germans than with us--and he could not exhaust his treasure to do that. So last night many of us were set at liberty, but the larger proportion, and amongst them myself, remained in bondage. Then in the early morning Johannes appeared again in the Capitol, where the Duke had fixed his abode, and--redeemed us all! Thou art astonished. Thou mayest well ask whence the man, who possesses nothing but his robe and staff, procured so much money! Yes, that is the miracle! When, sad at the fate of the prisoners, he returned to his Basilica, he found, in an old vault under the church-floor, a bag full of gold pieces, and also a little purse of precious stones, abundantly sufficient to ransom us all. But whence came this treasure? Nobody knows. The angel of the Lord manifestly heard the prayer of Johannes, and brought the treasure. The whole of Juvavum is amazed at the miracle. And I vow to thee, thou godly one, I will henceforth listen more devoutly to the words of Johannes. But thee, my beloved! what alarm has threatened thee!"

"But has not reached me, thanks be to God, and also to our guests; and perhaps," added she smiling, "to the inscription on the entrance-slab, that kept back misfortune."

"Dost thou know who wished to step across it?"

"How should I? I have not left the house."

"Then thou hast no idea how truly thou didst speak! Listen and breathe again. As I just now was hastening here from the town, on approaching the hill, I saw fastened to the milestone three horses, and among them--I know him too well--the black steed of the Tribune! Full of alarm, I sprang to our gate; there lay--oh, horrible!--two slain Moors, and, directly across the threshold, stretched on his back, the terrible Tribune, with a shattered skull! His face was half covered with the inscription-slab, and the corner-piece, broken off, was deeply embedded in his skull. This stone has felled him who was never conquered. But what arm hurled it?"

The old Haduwalt, who at the first mention of conflict had instinctively looked into the averted face of his young master, now drew the white mantle from his shoulder, showed the bloody bandage, and said: "This arm--And I!--Oh, Liuthari, my darling!--I meanwhile lay and slept!"

"Tolerably firmly," said the young man smiling, and continued, turning to the master of the house: "Yes, I slew him, that very bold man; he wished to force his way in, and"----

"Steal Felicitas!" cried the husband, pressing his wife, now terribly alarmed, to his breast. "Oh, sir, how can we thank thee?" he exclaimed.

But Felicitas could not utter a word; she could only direct her eyes, swimming in tears, towards her preserver. She had not appeared so beautiful even in the night.

"Thanks!" laughed Liuthari, "I fought for my life. But listen! who comes here?"

The steps of armed men were heard in the garden, and there entered, accompanied by five followers, Garibrand the Duke.

"A good piece of work have you two done out there before the entrance. The Tribune, whom we have sought everywhere, he fell certainly by thy hand. I have found thee at last, young hero! Welcome news I bring thee. A messenger from thy father is seeking thee. The Roman fortress on the Regan stream has fallen. My cousin, Duke Agilolf, and thy father, have settled the betrothal: Agilolf invites thee to his halls. Adalagardis, the most beautiful princely daughter of the Germans, is awaiting thee."

"Hail to thee, thou son of my king! this is thy reward for this night," cried Haduwalt.

"Betrothal! I have never seen her!" cried Liuthari, hesitating.

"Betrothal! yes, if you please each other," said the Duke.

"He will certainly please her." said Haduwalt, clapping the blushing youth on the shoulder; "and I hope," whispered he quietly in his ear, "that she, the beauty whom thou mayest love, will right well please thee."

"Choose now," continued the Duke, "what thou wilt of the booty. To you Alemanni, to thee above all, do we owe the victory."

"I will follow thee," said Liuthari, rising hastily. "Help me, old friend!"

The armour-master helped him to buckle on his breastplate; the young man raised the beautifully-shaped Roman helmet with the towering heron's plume to his head. Magnificent stood the king's son, his joyful countenance radiant with the noblest sentiments.

"Oh, now all is well," rejoiced Fulvius. "The Tribune is slain; Zeno the usurer is dead, murdered by an unknown hand, without doubt by his slaves, so Johannes tells me. There is no longer an Emperor in Ravenna; we were assured of this yesterday morning by this young hero. Now am I free from all debts to the Fiscus."

"And no less do I assure thee," laughed Liuthari, "that this powerful Duke here has stepped into the Emperor's place--his debtor art thou now."

Fulvius anxiously put his hand to his right ear, and looked dismayed at the mighty man.

"Fear not," continued Liuthari. "I ask, Duke Garibrand, as a part of my share of the booty, this villa and the land belonging to it. And free from all debt."

"It shall be as thou hast said," answered the Bajuvaren.

"And to you both, Fulvius and Felicitas, I give this free property, before these seven free men as witnesses. Their oath will be of service to you if anyone should contest your right and warrant."

"Thanks, sir; thanks."

"Thou art, then, Fulvius the stone-mason?" interposed the Duke. "The priest Johannes commended thee to me as faithful and brave; if thou dost prove thyself so, I will place thee as steward over my lands outside this gate."

Felicitas, after a short whispering with her husband, now stepped towards Liuthari, with the child on her arm. She blushed faintly, and said:

"Sir, he who gives so much as thou--must give still more. Our little son has not yet a name. Next Sunday I shall take him to Johannes, to the font. How shall the boy be named?"

"Felix Fulvius," said the king's son, deeply moved, laying his hand on the tiny head, "and--Liuthari, in order that my name may yet strike many times on your ear. But he who gives a name, gives also a present--that is German custom. Here, young housewife, take this ring. I stripped it from the finger of a patrician some years ago, whom I slew in battle. In Augusta Vindelicorum the dealers say it is worth as much as half their town. That is a bit of treasure in case of need. And now, both of you, farewell!"

"Stop!" here cried Haduwalt; "we do not thus bid farewell--farewell for life! Thou didst ask, stone-mason, how thou couldst thank the hero. Let thy young wife give him one kiss; believe me, he has deserved it--he is a gallant youth!"

Fulvius led his blushing wife towards him.

Liuthari pressed a kiss on the white brow, and cried: "Farewell, thou lovely one, for ever!"

And already he was gone: the curtain rustled behind him. The other Germans followed; at the garden entrance they mounted their horses and galloped quickly back towards the Porta Vindelica.

The first thing that Fulvius did, after he had with Philemon removed the dead bodies, was carefully to reset the stone with the inscription, into the pavement of the entrance; the broken-off corner he left unset.

"It shall," said he, "for ever be to us a proof how effectual the adage has been."

And the adage, it proved itself true to the wedded pair through their whole life.

No misfortune crossed that threshold while they dwelt there. Blooming sons and daughters grew up after Felix Fulvius Liuthari. Sickness never befell them, parents or children, although the pestilence might be raging in Juvavum and in the villas round about.

The Ivarus often overflowed, spreading its waves and destruction over men, animals, horses, and grain. Before this gate, before the Mercurius Hill, it each time stopped.

A landslip overwhelmed the neighbours' gardens right and left. An immense piece of rock rebounded from the inscription stone, and was shattered into a thousand fragments. Fulvius became "Villicus" of all the ducal property in Juvavum, and stood, on account of his prudence and fidelity, high in the favour of Duke Garibrand.

When he and Felicitas had become quite old people, fully eighty years of age, but active and vigorous, they were sitting one June evening hand in hand in the garden. They had had a seat made just within the entrance, so that their feet rested on the adage-stone.

Thus they sat, and thought of past times. Sweetly sang the golden oriole in the neighbouring beech forest. But it gradually became silent, for the air had become very sultry; a storm was approaching.

There was a vivid flash of lightning, and a tremendous peal of thunder. The children hastened to bring their old parents into the house.

But when Felix Fulvius Liuthari, hurrying in advance of the others, reached them, he found them both dead.

A flash of lightning had killed them both.

They still held each other hand in hand, and smiled, as if to say: "Death, which comes thus, is no misfortune, but a blessing."

THE END.

CHARLES DICKENS AND EVANS, CRYSTAL PALACE PRESS.