yself. I have no wish to leave them. And
my family? I saw them all--all six--die before my eyes in one night,
the terrible night when the faithless Romans--those slayers of the
people, those murderous wolves!--suddenly attacked our encampment with
the round, straw-thatched huts, by the Tibiscus, during an armistice.
The bright blaze of the hurdles lighted them well in their work of
slaughter. My father killed, my mother hurled into the flames of the
straw tent, my two sisters--oh, horrible!--tortured to death, my two
brothers leaping into the stream which flowed red with blood! And I--I
saw it all, stretched before the hut, my head cleft by a sword stroke,
defenceless, motionless. So I lay the whole starlit night, asking the
thousand gods above there: 'Why? Why? Why?' But, when day dawned, the
slave dealers who, like the ravens of the air and the wolves of the
steppe marshes, follow the Romans on every battle-field, came and trod
on all the Jazyges who lay there, to learn whether they were still
alive. I quivered under their feet, was flung into a cart, and carried
with them many, many days and weeks. At last the kind-hearted Suomar
bought and rescued me. For never, though I was a bondman, did he call
me 'dog,' like the dealers. He treated me like--like a human being. And
when the little mistress grew up, Suomar's farm became my home. And I
will stay down in the willow hut beside the lake as a free man, so long
as I live, if I am allowed to do so. And when Zercho's death hour
comes, the little red sprite (for we must rescue her, Adeling, and we
will) shall close my eyes with her hand, and then they shall bury me in
the open country, in the pastures by the lake. The cranes will pass
over me at night with rustling wings and clanging cries, high in the
air, and I shall hear it under the thin covering of turf and, in my
death sleep, dream that I am lying in the blossoming, fragrant steppe
grass."

He stopped. His cheeks were flushed; his ugly face was transfigured;
never in his whole life had he uttered so many words at once.

The Duke held out his hand, saying: "No, Zercho, you are no dog. You
have a heart, almost like the Alemanni's. Different, it is true, but
not evil."

Adalo said nothing, but he clasped the bondman's other hand and pressed
it warmly. Sippilo turned away: he did not want to let any one see his
eyes.

"You have a lucky hand, boy," cried the Duke. "I can read your wishes
in your eyes. Yes, you shall