uld grow on the farm of that happy man whose land
should be selected by the great consul, the plebeian consul, the consul
Varro, for his slaughter of the enemies of the Roman people.

To these harangues Paullus and the nobles listened in wonder and
disgust--even in terror; and when, at length, the consuls set out to
take command of the greatest army Rome had ever put into the field, the
story was passed from mouth to mouth of how Fabius had spoken with
Paullus and warned him that he must now do battle against two
commanders: Hannibal and his own colleague; and of how Paullus had
answered in words that told more of foreboding than of hope.

Even the Senate seemed to have fallen under the coarse spell of this
mouthing ranter. News had come that Hannibal was at Cannae, had seized
upon the Roman stores in the citadel there; that, strongly posted, he
was scouring the country in all directions; that the allies could not
be expected to stand another season of ravage; and so, when the consuls
set out to take command of the legions, it was with the express
direction of the fathers to give battle on the first favourable
opportunity.

Still, there was room left them for some discretion, and when Paullus
had viewed the country along the banks of the Aufidus, level as it lay
and open to the sweep of cavalry, his soldier eye told him that the
opportunity was not here, and that, with a short delay, the enemy must,
in the lack of safe forage, retire to more favourable ground.

Then followed quarrels and denunciations and furious mouthings; but
Varro did not neglect to use one day of his command to lead the army
forward to a point between the Carthaginians and the sea, whence it
would be impossible for Paullus to hope to withdraw them safely in the
face of the foe.

It was on the first of Sextilis that Hannibal offered battle; but this
was Paullus' day, and he had lain quiet in camp, "Sulking," as his
colleague exultantly put it, "because a plebeian's generalship had kept
another do-nothing patrician commander from running away." Then the
next morning broke--Varro's day--and the red flag fluttered from the
spear above Varro's tent.

A group of men were gathered before the quarters occupied by certain of
the special cavalry: mounted volunteers, for the most part of rank, who
served out of respect to the consul, Paullus. Fully armed, with horses
held near by, they were already prepared to ride out at the word, and
they listened