give into my hand
the long-desired memorial of the Romans of Juvavum; the name "Pagan
mound" gave undoubted evidence of the Roman occupation--for the Roman
road is here called the "Pagan road"--added to this, the source of the
spring, the traces of the marble setting, the many tiles--then the
sun's rays, just before setting, fell across the brushwood and shone
directly on the tile-slab lying before me. Cement! I picked it up and
tested it; it was without doubt that Roman cement which, becoming hard
as stone during the lapse of centuries, so marks out the buildings of
eternal Rome, I turned the piece over; there, O joy! was burnt in the
undoubted motto of the Twenty-second Legion: _Primigenia pia fidelis!_
And as I bend down, highly pleased, to try the next brick, a yet
stronger sunbeam falls on a piece of peculiar light-gray stone. It is
marble, I see now, and on the surface there are three Roman letters
distinctly visible: "hic...." There the stone was broken; but close to
it, the broken edge of a similar piece of gray stone projected from the
moss and ivy. Does the continuation of the inscription lie here buried
under a covering of moss and turf?

I pulled at the stone, but it was too heavy, either from the load of
earth or from its own size.

After some useless efforts, I found that I must clear off the layers of
turf and moss before the marble would entrust me with its secret.

Had it one to narrate? Certainly! I held the commencement in my hand:
"Hic," "here"--_what_ had here taken place, or was here attested?

After I had with my pocket-knife cleared the first piece from earth and
root-fibres, I held its broken surface to that of the still covered
slab; they fitted very well together. Then I set to work; it was not
easy, not soon over; with hand, knife, and the point of my alpenstock,
I had to scrape and tear away fully two feet of turf, earth, moss, and,
toughest of all, the numerous little roots of the clasping ivy;
although the sun was setting and the breeze was cool, the labour made
me very hot; the perspiration fell from my brow on the old Roman stone,
which now showed itself as a tolerably long slab. After the first few
minutes my zeal was sharpened by perceiving more letters. It was at
last so far laid bare that I could take hold of the edges with both
hands, and with some little jerks bring it fully to view. I then held
the broken stone with the deciphered _hic_ against it; this gave me the
direction i