hand again, and was always called Scaevola, or the
Left-handed, a name that went on to his family.

Porsena believed the story, and began to make peace. A truce was agreed
on, and ten Roman youths and as many girls were given up to the
Etruscans as hostages. While the conferences were going on, one of the
Roman girls named Clelia forgot her duty so much as to swim home across
the river with all her companions; but Valeria, the consul's daughter,
was received with all the anger that breach of trust deserved, and her
father mounted his horse at once to take the party back again. Just as
they reached the Etruscan camp, the Tarquin father and brothers, and a
whole troop of the enemy, fell on them. While the consul was fighting
against a terrible force, Valeria dashed on into the camp and called out
Porsena and his son. They, much grieved that the truce should have been
broken, drove back their own men, and were so angry with the Tarquins as
to give up their cause. He asked which of the girls had contrived the
escape, and when Clelia confessed it was herself, he made her a present
of a fine horse and its trappings, which she little deserved.

This Valerius was called Publicola, or the people's friend. He died a
year or two later, after so many victories that the Romans honored him
among their greatest heroes. Tarquin still continued to seek support
among the different Italian nations, and again attacked the Romans with
the help of the Latins. The chief battle was fought close to Lake
Regillus; Aulus Posthumius was the commander, but Marcus Valerius,
brother to Publicola, was general of the horse. He had vowed to build a
temple to Castor and Pollux if the Romans gained the victory; and in the
beginning of the fight, two glorious youths of god-like stature appeared
on horseback at the head of the Roman horse and fought for them. It was
a very hard-fought battle. Valerius was killed, but so was Titus
Tarquin, and the Latin force was entirely broken and routed. That same
evening the two youths rode into the Forum, their horses dripping with
sweat and their weapons bloody. They drew up and washed themselves at a
fountain near the temple of Vesta, and as the people crowded round they
told of the great victory, and while one man named Domitius doubted of
it, since the Lake Regillus was too far off for tidings to have come so
fast, one of them laid his hand on the doubter's beard and changed it
in a moment from black to copper colo