as the walls, had hitherto
escaped their observation. It concealed a small apartment in the
turret. With a few blows of their axes it was broken open, and they
rushed in.

"Ah! a rare booty!" cried the foremost of the ruffians, while, with
bloodthirsty curiosity, the others pressed round to see the new
victim.

There lay the little orphan with the golden hair; her eyes were
closed, and a death-like hue had overspread her beautiful features.

Her aunt, with an instinctive foreboding, had concealed her here when
she took the others to the attics.

The orphan grasped a sharp knife in her hand, with which she had
attempted to kill herself; and when her fainting hands refused the
fearful service, she had swooned in despair.

"Ah!" cried the Wallachians, in savage admiration, their bloodthirsty
countenances assuming a still more hellish expression.

"This is common booty!" cried several voices together.

"A beautiful girl! A noble lady! ha, ha, ha! She will just suit the
tattered Wallachians!" and with their foul and bloody hands, they
seized the young girl by her fair slight arms.

"Ha! what is going on here?" thundered a voice from behind.

The Wallachians looked round.

A figure stood among them fully a head taller than all the rest. He
wore a brass helmet, in which a deep cleft was visible, and held in
his left hand a short Roumin sword. His features bore the ancient
Roman character.

"The Decurio!" they murmured, making way for him.

"What is going on here?" he repeated; and seeing the fainting girl in
the arms of a Wallachian, he ordered him to lay her down.

"She is one of our enemies," replied the savage insolently.

"Silence, knave! Does one of the Roumin nation seek enemies in women?
lay her down instantly."

"Not so, leader," interrupted Lupuj; "our laws entitle us to a
division of the spoil. This girl is our booty; she belongs to us after
the victory."

"I know our laws better than you do, churl! Due division of spoil is
just and fair; but we cast lots for what cannot be divided."

"True, leader: a horse or an ox cannot be divided, and for them we
cast lots; but in this case"--

"I have said it _cannot_, and I should like to know who dares to say
it _can_!"

Lupuj knew the Decurio too well to proffer another syllable, and the
rest turned silently away from the girl; one voice alone was heard to
exclaim, "It can!"

"Who dares to say that?" cried the Decurio; "let him come forward!"

A