he other prisoners in the Roman
camp, his wife and daughter fell into his arms, weeping.

Caradoc tried his best to comfort them, and he begged all the prisoners
to have courage, and to bear their misfortunes like brave men and women.

After this victory the Roman general returned to his own country.
Caradoc and the other prisoners were carried on board the vessels of
the conquerors; and after a voyage of many days they landed upon the
strange, unknown shores of Italy.

The Roman people were delighted to hear that the wild, savage island of
Britain had at last been subdued, and when the victorious general
reached the city they resolved to give him a public triumph.

The emperor and empress sat on thrones in front of their palace while
the general was drawn through the streets in a chariot decked with
flowers and garlands. All the citizens came out to see him, and the
balconies and even the roofs of the houses were crowded with people who
shouted and hurrahed and threw up their caps as the conqueror passed by.

Behind the chariot came the troops who had taken part in the victory.
The soldiers marched past in fighting array; their helmets and spears
garlanded with flowers and with wreaths of laurel, and they looked
round them proudly in response to the shouts of their countrymen.

But these were not the only people who took part in the procession.

Immediately behind the general followed the captives whom he had taken
in the war; Caradoc with his wife and daughter and the other prisoners
who had helped him in his nine years' struggle with the Romans.

As these poor captives passed, loaded with chains, the people in the
streets jeered at them and shouted out unkind speeches. Most of the
prisoners walked with downcast eyes and sad faces, but Caradoc marched
along with so proud a bearing that the spectators wondered at the
courage shown by this savage chief. He did not seem to feel the dust
and glare, or to be abashed by the hard, unfeeling gaze of the
thousands of people who had come out to stare at him.

As he passed he looked at the fine buildings, at the triumphal arches,
and the marble palaces, and at the gaily dressed people who thronged
the streets. Sometimes he looked up into the sunny Italian sky; and he
was evidently thinking deeply. Some one asked him what he was thinking
about.

'I was wondering,' said Caradoc, 'how these people could envy me my mud
cottage and my few fields so far away in our poor