d side; the other
is for the living!" And Maximus held out his tablets.

'"He is of no use to me dead," said Pertinax. "My mother is a widow. I am
far off. I am not sure he pays her all her dowry."

'"No matter. My arm is reasonably long. We will look through your uncle's
accounts in due time. Now, farewell till to-morrow, O Captains of the
Wall!"

'We saw him grow small across the heather as he walked to the galley.
There were Picts, scores, each side of him, hidden behind stones. He never
looked left or right. He sailed away Southerly, full spread before the
evening breeze, and when we had watched him out to sea, we were silent. We
understood Earth bred few men like to this man.

'Presently Allo brought the ponies and held them for us to mount--a thing
he had never done before.

'"Wait awhile," said Pertinax, and he made a little altar of cut turf, and
strewed heather-bloom atop, and laid upon it a letter from a girl in Gaul.

'"What do you do, O my friend?" I said.

'"I sacrifice to my dead youth," he answered, and, when the flames had
consumed the letter, he ground them out with his heel. Then we rode back
to that Wall of which we were to be Captains.'

Parnesius stopped. The children sat still, not even asking if that were
all the tale. Puck beckoned, and pointed the way out of the wood. 'Sorry,'
he whispered, 'but you must go now.'

'We haven't made him angry, have we?' said Una. 'He looks so far off,
and--and--thinky.'

'Bless your heart, no. Wait till to-morrow. It won't be long. Remember,
you've been playing "_Lays of Ancient Rome_."'

And as soon as they had scrambled through their gap, where Oak, Ash and
Thorn grow, that was all they remembered.

A SONG TO MITHRAS

_Mithras, God of the Morning, our trumpets waken the Wall!_
_'Rome is above the Nations, but Thou art over all!'_
_Now as the names are answered and the guards are marched away,_
_Mithras, also a soldier, give us strength for the day!_

_Mithras, God of the Noontide, the heather swims in the heat,_
_Our helmets scorch our foreheads; our sandals burn our feet!_
_Now in the ungirt hour; now ere we blink and drowse,_
_Mithras, also a soldier, keep us true to our vows!_

_Mithras, God of the Sunset, low on the Western main,_
_Thou descending immortal, immortal to rise again!_
_Now when the watch is ended, now when the wine is drawn,_
_Mithras, also a soldier, keep us pure till the dawn!_

_Mithras,