long while," said his master, laughing. "The boy
is deaf, and he is sick with fever. He is afraid of people. Let him lie
there!"

The lad crept under the thickest underbrush, far away from the flames.
He could scarcely be seen from the watchfire; all that was visible was
his coal-black curly hair. Taking out a little earthen pot, he poured a
few drops of some liquid on his lame foot and rubbed it with his hand.

CHAPTER XXVII.

To Adalo's impatience the time seemed very long--in his wrath he
believed the delay intentional--during which he was led through the
spacious camp till at last his guide stopped and removed the muffler
from his head. He found himself in the Prefect's tent. Ausonius,
Bissula's friend, he instantly recognized, with a thrill of anger. A
number of other army leaders were standing and sitting around him. They
had had plenty of time to assemble while the Barbarian was being guided
in bewildering zigzag lines through the streets of tents.

He silently saluted Ausonius (it did not escape his eyes that his foe
looked admiringly at him), who motioned to him to sit down on a camp
stool. But the youth, with a defiant bearing, remained standing. In
vain, gazing around the richly decorated space, Adalo endeavored to
discover some trace, not of Bissula herself--that was beyond his
hopes--but of some garment or article that belonged to her. Nothing was
to be seen except arms and papyrus rolls.

"You understand the language of Rome, since you have come without an
interpreter?" Ausonius began.

Adalo nodded.

"Be welcome! We expected such a messenger. You desire peace?"

The young hero angrily flung back his handsome head so that his long
locks rested on his shoulders, and answered with flashing eyes: "I
offer to let you depart unmolested."

"Ha, insolent Barbarian!" cried Herculanus.

But Saturninus wrathfully motioned to him to keep silence, and then
asked very quietly: "Are we surrounded?"

"Not yet; but only because we did not desire it."

Saturninus cast a significant glance at the Prefect.

"Boasting!" replied the latter in Greek.

"And why haven't you destroyed us yet?" sneered Herculanus.

"The result, Roman, is in the hands of the gods. We have not attacked
because we, who do not fear battle, but rather--you know well--love it,
this time desire peace; or our wise leaders, who think further than my
comrades, desire it. The great league of the Alemanni wish