ere's an inscreeption. They tell me it's Latin, and it means that the
men o' this fort give thanks to God for their safety."

They examined the old worn stone. There was a large deeply-cut "VV" upon
the top of it.

"What does 'VV' stand for?" asked Brown.

"Naebody kens," the guide answered.

"_Valeria Victrix_," said the lady softly. Her face was paler than ever,
her eyes far away, as one who peers down the dim aisles of overarching
centuries.

"What's that?" asked her husband sharply.

She started as one who wakes from sleep. "What were we talking about?"
she asked.

"About this 'VV' upon the stone."

"No doubt it was just the name of the Legion which put the altar up."

"Aye, but you gave some special name."

"Did I? How absurd! How should I ken what the name was?"

"You said something--'_Victrix_,' I think."

"I suppose I was guessing. It gives me the queerest feeling, this place,
as if I were not myself, but some one else."

"Aye, it's an uncanny place," said her husband, looking round with an
expression almost of fear in his bold grey eyes. "I feel it mysel'. I
think we'll just be wishin' you good evenin', Mr. Cunningham, and get
back to Melrose before the dark sets in."

Neither of them could shake off the strange impression which had been
left upon them by their visit to the excavations. It was as if some
miasma had risen from those damp trenches and passed into their blood.
All the evening they were silent and thoughtful, but such remarks as
they did make showed that the same subject was in the mind of each.
Brown had a restless night, in which he dreamed a strange connected
dream, so vivid that he woke sweating and shivering like a frightened
horse. He tried to convey it all to his wife as they sat together at
breakfast in the morning.

"It was the clearest thing, Maggie," said he. "Nothing that has ever
come to me in my waking life has been more clear than that. I feel as if
these hands were sticky with blood."

"Tell me of it--tell me slow," said she.

"When it began, I was oot on a braeside. I was laying flat on the
ground. It was rough, and there were clumps of heather. All round me was
just darkness, but I could hear the rustle and the breathin' of men.
There seemed a great multitude on every side of me, but I could see no
one. There was a low chink of steel sometimes, and then a number of
voices would whisper 'Hush!' I had a ragged club in my hand, and it had
spikes o' iron near the