The iron of my cuirass soon began to heat under the coals which two of the Frankish kings kept alive by blowing upon them. I suffered greatly and cried:

"Oh! Neroweg! Neroweg! Cowardly assassin! I would gladly endure these tortures, if I only could see myself once more sword in hand before you, and put my mark upon your other cheek. Oh! You have said it—there is room only for hatred and death between our two races!"

"What is Victoria's message?" the Terrible Eagle asked again.

I remained silent, despite the intense pain that I suffered. The iron of my cuirass was growing hot all around.

"Will you speak?" the Frankish chief cried anew, evidently astonished at my resistance.

"Victoria's messenger speaks erect and free," I answered. "If not, not!"

Whether the Frankish chief considered it desirable to know the message that I brought, or whether he only yielded to the suggestions of his companions, who were less ferocious than himself, one of them unbuckled my casque, raised it off my head, took it to the stream that rippled down the rocks at the mouth of the cavern, filled it and poured the cold water upon my heated cuirass. By degrees it cooled off.

"Free him of his bonds," said Neroweg, "but surround him; and let him instantly fall under your blows should he try to escape."

"Give us now your message," said Neroweg.

"A truce has been concluded between our two armies," I proceeded. "Victoria and her son send to tell you: Since you issued from your northern forests you have taken possession of the whole territory of Germany on the right bank of the Rhine. That soil is as fertile as Gaul's. Before your invasion it produced an abundance of everything. Your acts of violence and cruelty have driven almost all its inhabitants to flight. The soil, nevertheless, remains, ready and willing for the husbandman. Why do you not cultivate it, instead of waging incessant war against us and living on rapine? Is it the love for war that sways you? We Gauls, better than anyone else, understand and appreciate the love for martial display. We appreciate it, and make this proposition to you. At each new moon, send one or two thousand of your picked warriors to one of the large islands in the Rhine, which is our joint frontier. We shall expedite thither an equal number of our warriors. The two sets will be free to fight it out at their heart's content. But then, at least, you Franks, on one side of the river, and we Gauls on the other shall be able to cultivate our respective fields in peace, we shall be able to work, to manufacture and to enrich our countries, without being forever compelled to keep an eye upon the frontier, and a sword hanging from the plow handle. If you refuse our proposition we shall then wage a war of extermination against you, drive you from our frontiers, and chase you back into your forests. When two nations are separated only by a river they should be friends, or one of the two must destroy the other. Choose! I await your answer."

"The Frank is not one of those races, like the Gallic, who work by cultivating the soil. The Frank loves war; but above all he loves the warmth of the sun, good wine, fine weapons, brilliant clothes, gold and silver goblets, rich necklaces, large and well built cities, superb palaces after the fashion of the Romans, the beautiful Gallic women, industrious slaves who mind the whip and work for their masters while these drink, sing, sleep and make love or war. In their gloomy country of the north, however, the Franks find neither sunshine nor good wine, nor fine weapons, nor brilliant clothes, nor gold and silver goblets, nor large and well built cities, nor superb palaces, nor beautiful Gallic women—all these things are to be found among you, Gallic dogs! We purpose and mean to take all that from you—we purpose and mean to establish ourselves in your fertile country, and enjoy all the good things that it contains, while the males of you will work for us under the whip and the sharp sword that we shall hold over you, and the females—your wives, sisters and daughters—will lie in our beds, will weave our shirts and will wash our clothes. Do you understand, Gallic dog?"

The other kings applauded Neroweg and accentuated their approval with loud laughter and clatter of arms, joined to cries of:

"Yes—that is what we want—do you understand, Gallic dog?"

"Yes, we are plunderers!" cried Neroweg. "And, by the snows of Germany we shall plunder you of your old Gaul! Our army is four times as large as yours; you have your palaces, your cities, your wealth, your women, your sun, your fertile earth to defend—we have nothing to defend and everything to gain. We camp in our huts and sleep on the backs of our horses; our only wealth is our sword; we have nothing to lose, everything to gain. And we will gain everything, and we will subjugate your race, you Gallic dog! It will be the end of Gaul!"

"Dare you, Gallic dog, hold such language to us!" cried Neroweg grinding his teeth. "You, a prisoner! You, under the points of our swords! under the edge of the Frankish battle axe!"

"The moment seems to me opportune to say the truth to the enemies of Gaul!"

"And I think the moment is opportune to put you through a thousand deaths!" cried the Frankish king in a passion as towering as that of his fellows. "Yes, you shall undergo a thousand deaths—and after that, my sole answer to the audacious message of your Victoria will be to return your head to her with the announcement in the name of Neroweg the Terrible Eagle, that, before the sun shall have risen six times, I shall capture herself in the midst of her own camp, shall take her to my bed, and shall then pass her over to my men, that they may, in turn, enjoy Victoria, the proud Gallic woman!"

Ten swords struck me almost simultaneously. But my casque and cuirass protected me. In their blind rage the Frankish chiefs struck at random, and cried:

"Death! Death to the dog of a Gaul!"

Only Riowag, the captain of the black warriors, did not join in the attempt to avenge upon my person the blow I dealt to his rival, Neroweg. On the contrary, he profited by the tumult to enter the cavern into which Elwig had been driven back, the entrance of which was now left free, seeing that the two kings, who, sword in hand, mounted guard before it, rushed to the assistance of the Terrible Eagle, who lay prostrate at a distance from them.

Immediately after Riowag entered the grotto, the priestess and her two assistant hags rushed out. With streaming hair, haggard looks, and hands raised heavenward they cried:

"The hour has come—the sun is setting—night approaches—death, death to the Gaul! He struck the Terrible Eagle—death, death to the Gaul! Bind him fast. We shall consult the subterranean gods in the magic water in which he is to boil!"

"Yes—death!" cried the Franks rushing upon me and binding me fast again. "He shall die under a prolonged agony! Death to the dog of a Gaul!"

"We are the priestesses of the sacrifice!" Elwig and the two hags protested in chorus, while they redoubled their bizarre contortions that by degrees imposed the Frankish warriors with terror.

The confusion into which the Franks were thrown by the blow that I dealt Neroweg kept them from interfering with Elwig and her two female assistants. Several of the kings even joined her in dragging me into the cavern, while the others were hurrying hither and thither or gathered anxiously around the Terrible Eagle who lay prone upon the ground, pale, motionless and his head bleeding.

"Our grand chief is not dead," said some; "his hands are warm and his heart beats."

"Let us transport him to his hut."

"If he die we shall draw lots for his five black horses, his fine Gallic sword with the gold handle, and also for his necklace and silver bracelets."

"The horses and arms of Neroweg belong to the oldest chief!" cried one of those who were holding up the head of the Terrible Eagle. "I am the oldest. To me belong both horses and arms! To me also his tent and chariots! To me his gold necklaces and silver bracelets!"

"You lie!" came from one of the chiefs at the feet of Neroweg. "His horses, his tent and his arms belong to me as his war companion."

"No!" cried the others. "No! Everything that belongs to Neroweg must be drawn lots for."

"Shame and ill luck to those who contend over the spoils of a king who is neither dead nor revenged! Shame and ill luck to those who contend over the spoils of a brother before the very eyes of his sister! Shame and ill luck to the impious men who disturb the quiet of a place that is consecrated to the gods of the nether world!"

And with an inspired and dreadful mien, the priestess drew herself to her full length, and throwing up her clenched fists above her head, cried:

"My two hands are full of fearful misfortunes. Tremble!"

At these threats, the frightened barbarians involuntarily lowered their heads, as if afraid of being struck with the mysterious ills that the priestess held in her closed hands. They put their swords back into their scabbards. Profound silence ensued.

"Carry the Terrible Eagle to his hut!" Elwig thereupon commanded. "The sister will accompany her wounded brother. The Gallic prisoner will be watched by Map and Mob who assist me at the sacrifices. Two of you will remain at the mouth of the cavern, with your swords in your hands. Night is drawing near. Elwig will presently return with Neroweg. The execution of the prisoner will then begin, and I shall consult the auguries in the magic waters in which he is to boil until death supervenes!"

"You may lie down on the ground if you wish; the sun has gone down. While waiting for Elwig's return, my companion and I shall keep the fire alive under the caldron."

From the solitude and darkness in which I was left at the departure of Elwig's sacrificial assistants, I could see the mouth of the cavern at some distance. The opening grew darker and darker as dusk yielded to night. Presently the gloom became complete, relieved only, from time to time, by the flickering light that the flames of the fire, kept alive under the huge brass caldron by the two hags, occasionally cast upon the grotto's mouth.

I tried to snap my bonds. With my hands and feet free, I would have endeavored to disarm one of the Franks who guarded the issue, and, sword in hand, and protected by the darkness of the night, I would have reached the river bank guided by the sound of the rushing waves. Perhaps and notwithstanding the orders I gave him, Douarnek might not yet have rowed back to camp. But all my efforts proved futile against the bow-strings and the belt that held me fast. A muffled but increasing rumbling of feet and voices began to announce to me the arrival and assembling of a large number of people in the neighborhood of the cave. They must he doubtlessly gathering to witness my execution and listen to the auguries of the priestess.

Suddenly, from the thickest of the surrounding darkness I heard the voice of Elwig two steps behind me. I started with surprise. I was certain she did not enter by the mouth of the cavern.

"Follow me," she said.

At the same moment her feverish hand seized mine and held it firmly.

"How came you here?" I asked her stupefied, with hope re-rising in my breast, and endeavoring to walk.

"The cavern has two issues," Elwig answered. "One of them is secret and known to me only. It is by that entrance that I came in, while the kings are waiting for me at the other entrance near the caldron. Come! Come! Take me to the bark where the treasure lies, where you left the necklaces, bracelets, diadems and other jewels!"

"My legs are tied," I said. "I can hardly put one foot before the other."

Elwig did not answer, but I could feel that she was cutting with her knife the leather strap and the bow-strings that bound my arms and legs. I was free!

"And your brother," I inquired, following close upon her footsteps, "has he regained consciousness?"

"Neroweg is still dazed, like a bull whom the butcher did not kill outright. He awaits in his hut the hour of your execution. I am to notify him in time. He wishes to see you suffer and die. Come, come!"

"The darkness is so intense that I can not see before me."

"Give me your hand."

"Only I know this secret issue. When they miss both you and me from the cave, my brother and the chiefs will believe that I made you descend to the gods of the nether world. They will be all the more afraid of me. Come! Come quick!"

While Elwig thus spoke I was following her through so narrow a passage that I felt myself grazing the rocks on either side. The passage seemed at first to dip down towards the bowels of the earth, but presently its ascent became so steep and difficult for my legs, still numb from their recent ligatures, that it was with difficulty I kept step with the hurrying priestess. We had been for some time in the maze of the underground cave when at last I felt the fresh air strike my face. I imagined we were about to step into the open.

"To-night, after I shall have killed my brother in revenge for his outrages upon me," Elwig explained to me in abrupt words, "I shall flee with a king whom I love. He is waiting for us outside. He is strong, brave and well armed. He will accompany us to your bark. If you deceived me, Riowag will kill you—do you hear me, Gaul? You will fall under his axe."

I was little affected by the threat—my hands were free—my only uneasiness was whether Douarnek and the bark still waited for me.

The priestess stopped for a moment and called:

"Riowag!"

"Riowag is here," answered a voice so close to me that I realized the chief of the black warriors was near enough to be able to touch me. Nevertheless, it was in vain that I sought to distinguish his black shape in the dark. It became clearer to me than ever before how, by rendering themselves undistinguishable in the dark, these men could not choose but be dangerous foes in a night assault or ambuscade.

"Is it far from here to the river bank?" I asked Riowag. "You must know the spot where I landed; you were the chief of the band that greeted me with a volley of arrows."

"No, we have not far to go," Riowag answered.

"Shall we have to cross the camp?" I inquired, perceiving the lights of the Frankish encampment at a little distance.

Neither of my two guides made any answer. They exchanged a few words in a low voice, each took me by an arm, and they struck into a path that led away from the camp. Soon the roar of the rushing waters of the Rhine reached our ears. We drew rapidly near the shore. Finally from the height of the embankment on which we stood, I could distinguish a bluish sheet of water across the darkness—it was the river!

"Can we call out from the bank without being heard by the outposts of the camp?" I asked the Frank.

"The wind blows off shore," Riowag answered with the sagacity of a savage. "You can freely raise your voice and call; you will not be heard at the camp, and your voice will surely travel to the middle of the stream."

Riowag walked a few steps further and then stopped.

"It is here," he said, "where you reached land; your bark must be anchored near by. I am a professional night warrior, and am able to see through the dark, but I can not distinguish your bark."

"Oh! You deceived us! You deceived us!" murmured Elwig in a subdued voice. "You will die for it!"

"It may be," I observed, "that, after having waited for me in vain, the bark may have just left its anchorage. The wind will carry my voice far; I shall call."

Saying this I raised our battle cry of rally, well known to Douarnek.

Only the sound of the waves made answer.

Doubtlessly Douarnek had followed my orders and rowed back to camp at sunset.

I uttered our war cry a second time and louder than the first.

Again the only response was the rushing of the waves.

Meaning to gain time and prepare myself for defense, I said to Elwig: "The wind blows off shore; it carries my voice to the river; but it blows back the voices that may have answered my signal. Let us listen!"

In the measure that the decisive instant approached, the suspense and uneasiness of Elwig and her companion increased. To kill me would be to renounce the possession of the treasure, which, I had clearly told them, my soldiers would deliver only at my orders. But again, to allow the latter to disembark would be to furnish me with auxiliaries and render mine the stronger side. Elwig no doubt began to realize that her greed had carried her too far. Seeing the bark draw nearer she said to me in great excitement:

"The sacredness of the Gallic word is proverbial. You owe your life to me. I hope you did not deceive me with a false promise."

"No, I have no treasure for you, Elwig, but if you fear to return to your brother, follow me. Victoria will treat you kindly; you will not be a prisoner; I give you my word; you may rely upon the faith of a Gaul."

Both the priestess and Riowag refused to listen; breaking out into wild imprecations they made a furious rush at me. In the tussle that ensued I killed the black warrior at the moment when he sought to stab me with his dagger, and I was wounded in the hand in the attempt to wrench the knife from Elwig's grasp. I had just succeeded and thrown the weapon into the water when, attracted by the noise of the struggle, Douarnek and one of the soldiers leaped upon the shore to hasten to my help.

"Schanvoch," Douarnek said quickly to me, "we did not follow your orders and row back at sunset. We remained at our anchorage, resolved to wait for you until morning. But thinking that you might issue at some other spot than where you landed, we rowed up and down along the shore. When we saw you this morning surrounded by those black devils, our first impulse was to row straight to the bank and suffer death beside you. But I recalled your orders, and we considered that for us to be killed was to cut off your retreat. But here you are, hale and sound. Now take my advice and let us return quickly to camp. These skinners of human bodies are ill neighbors to dwell among."

"Schanvoch, look at the torches approaching yonder!"

Saying this Douarnek pointed in the direction of the Frankish camp. Luminous streaks were seen rapidly approaching through the dark.

"Your flight has been discovered, Elwig," I said to her, and sought to tear her from her lover's corpse, which she held clasped in a close embrace and over which she moaned piteously. "Your brother has started in your pursuit—you have not a minute to lose—come!—come!—or you are lost!"

"Schanvoch," Douarnek said to me as I vainly sought to drag away Elwig, who seemed not to hear me and sobbed aloud, "the torches are carried by armed horsemen! Listen to the clanging of their weapons! Listen to the tramp of their horses! They cannot be further than six bow shots! I beached the bark in order to reach you all the quicker! We shall have barely time to put it afloat! Would you have us all killed? If that is your purpose, say so, and we shall die like brave men; but if you mean to flee, it is high time that you move!"

"It is your brother! It is death that is approaching!" I once more cried to Elwig, whom I could not bring myself to abandon without one more effort to save her. After all, she did save my life. A minute later and she would be lost.

Seeing, however, that the priestess did not answer me, I cried to Douarnek:

"Give me a hand—let us take her away by force!"

In the meantime the Frankish horsemen were approaching so rapidly that the light of their resinous torches projected itself as far as the beach. It was too late to save Elwig. Our bark was with difficulty pushed off; I took the rudder; Douarnek and the two remaining soldiers bent vigorously to their oars.

We were still within easy bowshot from the shore when, by the light of the torches that the troops carried, we saw the first hurrying Frankish horsemen ride up. At their head I recognized Neroweg, the Terrible Eagle, distinguishable by his colossal stature. He was closely followed by several other horsemen, all shouting with concentrated rage. Neroweg drove his horse up to the animal's neck into the river. His companions did the same, while they brandished their long lances with one hand and with the other their torches, whose ruddy reflections lighted far the waters of the river and fell upon our swiftly speeding bark.

Seated near the rudder, my back was turned to the bank and I remarked sadly to Douarnek:

"The miserable creature is killed by this time."

And propelled by the three vigorous oarsmen, our bark shot through the water.

I also rose to my feet and looked in the same direction. A second later I cried:

"Stop! Do not row! It is she! It is Elwig! Douarnek, hand me an oar! I shall reach it to her! She seems to be exhausted!"

So said, so done. Fleeing from her brother and certain death, the priestess had thrown herself into the water and must have swam after us with extraordinary vigor. She seized the extremity of the oar with a convulsive grasp; two strokes of the oars backed the bark to her; and aided by one of the soldiers I was able to draw Elwig on board.

"Blessed be the gods!" I cried. "I would always have reproached myself for your death."

The priestess made no answer; she let herself down on the bench of one of the oarsmen, and shrinking into a heap with her face between her knees, remained ominously silent. The oarsmen rowed vigorously on, and from time to time I looked back at the receding river bank. The torches of the Frankish horsemen glimmered fitfully, luminous spots through the haze of the night and the vapors that rose from the river. The end of our passage drew near; we began to distinguish the lights of our own encampment on the opposite bank. Several times I addressed Elwig, but received no answer. I threw over her shoulders and her clothes, wet with the chilly waters of the Rhine, the thick night cloak of one of the soldiers. In doing this I touched one of her arms; it was feverishly warm. A stranger to all that happened in the bark, the woman did not emerge from her savage silence. As I jumped ashore I said to Neroweg's sister:

She made me a sign to lead the way, and she followed. Douarnek then approached me and said in a low voice:

"If you take my advice, Schanvoch, after the she-devil, who I know not for what reason swam after you, has dried and warmed herself at your hearth, you will lock her up safely until morning. She might otherwise strangle your wife and child during the night. There is nothing more wily and ferocious than these Frankish women."

"It will be a wise precaution to take," I answered Douarnek.

The night was far advanced. I had reached within a few steps from my house when I saw through the dark a man crouching on the sill of one of the windows. He seemed to be peeping through the shutters. I gave a start. It was the window of my wife's room.

I seized Elwig's arm and said to her in a low voice:

"Do not budge—wait—"

She stopped and stood motionless. Controlling my emotion I advanced cautiously, seeking to avoid making the sand crunch under my feet. I failed. My steps were heard; the man jumped down from the window sill and fled. I rushed after him. Thinking that I meant to leave her in the lurch, Elwig ran after me, overtook me and seized me by the arm, crying with terror:

"If I am found alone in the Gallic camp I shall be killed!"

Despite all I could do, I could not disengage myself of Elwig's hold until after the man had vanished from sight. He had too long a lead and the night was too dark for me to endeavor to catch him. Surprised and uneasy at the incident, I retraced my steps, and knocked at the door of my house.

"It is I!" I cried to them. "It is I, Schanvoch!"

The door was no sooner opened than my wife, seeing me by the light that Sampso held in her hand, threw herself into my arms, saying in a tone of sweet and tender reproach:

"At last you are back! We began to feel alarmed about you, seeing you were gone since early morning."

"And we, who counted upon you for our little feast," put in Sampso; "but I suppose you met with old comrades in arms, and time passed quickly in their company."

"Yes, I suppose the conversation was strung out over battles," added Ellen still hanging on my neck, "and my dear Schanvoch forgot his wife, just a little—"

Ellen was interrupted by a cry from Sampso. She did not at first notice Elwig, who had remained in shadow near the door. At the sight, however, of the savage creature—pale, sinister and motionless—my wife's sister could not repress her surprise and involuntary fear. Ellen quickly stepped back, noticed the presence of the priestess, and gazing at me as much surprised as her sister, said:

"Schanvoch, who is that woman?"

"Why, sister," cried Sampso forgetting the presence of Elwig and looking at me more closely, "look, the sleeves of Schanvoch's blouse are red with blood—he is wounded!"

My wife grew pale, stepped quickly back to me and anxiously scanned my face.

"To the camp of the Franks!" Ellen and Sampso cried terrified. "That meant death!"

"And this is the being who saved my life," I said to my wife, pointing at Elwig, who stood motionless at the door. "I must bespeak the attention of you both in her behalf until to-morrow."

When they learned that I owed my life to the Frankish woman my wife and her sister hastened toward Elwig, moved by a simultaneous impulse of gratitude; but they almost immediately stopped short, intimidated and even frightened by the sinister and impassive countenance of Elwig, the priestess, who seemed not to see them, and whose mind probably hovered over scenes far away.

"Give her some dry clothes, those that she has on are wet," I said to my wife and her sister. "She does not understand Gallic; your thanks will be lost upon her."

"Had she not saved your life," Ellen said to me, "I would think the woman's face looks somber and threatening."

"She is a savage like the rest of her people. Get her some dry clothes, and I shall take her to the little side room, where I shall lock her up as a matter of precaution."

Sampso went into a contiguous room to fetch a tunic and mantle for Elwig, while I said to my wife:

"Did you hear any noise at the window of your room to-night, shortly before I came in?"

"None whatever—neither did Sampso; she did not leave me since evening; we both felt uneasy at your absence. But why do you ask?"

"My wife and her sister offer you these clothes. Yours are wet. Is there anything else that you wish? Are you hungry, or thirsty? What would you have?"

"I want solitude," was Elwig's answer, rejecting the proffered clothes with a gesture; "I want the black night. Only that will suit me at present."

"Very well—follow me," I said to her.

Leading the way, I opened the door of a little chamber, and raising the lamp in order to light its interior, I said to the priestess:

"You see yonder couch—rest yourself, and may the gods render peaceful to you the night that you are to pass under my roof."

Elwig made no answer; she threw herself upon the couch and covered her face with her hands.

"And now," I said to my wife as I closed and locked the door, "these duties of hospitality being attended to, I burn with the desire to embrace my little Alguen."

I found you, my child, sleeping peacefully in your cradle. I covered you with kisses, that were all the sweeter to me seeing I had that very day feared never to see you again. Your mother and her sister examined and bandaged my wounds. They were slight.

While Ellen and Sampso were attending to me, I spoke to them of the man whom I had caught sight of on the window sill, and who seemed to be peeping through the shutters. They were greatly astonished at my words; they had heard no sound; they had been together since evening. While talking over the matter, Ellen said to me:

"Did you hear the news?"

"Tetrik, the Governor of Gascony and relative of Victoria, arrived this evening. The Mother of the Camps rode out on horseback to meet him. We saw him go by."

"And did Victorin accompany his mother?"

"He rode beside her. That must be the reason that we did not see him during the day."

The arrival of Tetrik gave me food for reflection.

Early in the morning I repaired to Victoria's residence. The humble house of the Mother of the Camps was reached through a long narrow path, skirted on either side by high ramparts that constituted the outer fortifications of one of the gates of Mayence. I was about twenty paces from the house when I heard behind me the following cries uttered in terror:

"Save yourself! Save yourself!"

Looking back, I saw with no little fright a two-wheeled cart dashing rapidly towards me. The cart was drawn by two horses whose driver had lost control over them.

My curiosity stirred to a high pitch, I drew near, and gliding between the horses and the wall, succeeded in climbing over the dashboard of the cart whose driver I found crouching under the seat, looking more dead than alive. As the mystery seemed to deepen, my curiosity was pricked still more. I ran to the rear of the vehicle and noticed with no slight amazement that a large sized man, robust as a Hercules, was clinging to two ornamental pieces that projected from the rear of the cart. It was thanks to his weight, and to the superhuman resistance that his great strength enabled him to offer, that the team was held back.

"Captain Marion!" I cried. "I should have known as much! There is none other in the whole Gallic army able to hold back a cart going at full speed."

"Tell that fool of a driver to pull in the reins. My wrists begin to tire."

"There is no longer any danger," I said to the driver; "lead your horses on. But whom does this conveyance belong to?"

"To Tetrik, the Governor of Gascony, who arrived yesterday at Mayence. He stops at Victoria's house," answered the driver, while calming down his horses.

While the cart proceeded into the yard of Victoria's residence, I walked back towards the captain to thank him for his timely aid.

Marion had left his blacksmith's anvil for the army many years previous. He was well known and generally beloved among the soldiers, as much for his heroic courage and extraordinary strength, as for his exceptional good judgment, his sound reasoning powers, the austerity of his morals, and his extreme good fellowship. He now stood on the road, and with his casque in his hand wiped the sweat off his brow. He wore a cuirass of steel scales over his Gallic blouse, and a long sword at his side. His dusty boots told of a recent and long ride on horseback. His large sunburnt face, partly covered by a thick beard that began to be streaked with grey, was open and pleasing.

"Captain Marion," I said to him, "I must thank you for having saved me from being ground under the wheels of that cart."

"Whom do you refer to?"

"To a brave fellow, the old companion of my blacksmith days. Like me, he left the hammer for the lance. The fortune of war served me better than it did him. Despite his bravery, my friend Eustace has remained a simple horseman, while I have been promoted to captain. But there he is, yonder, with his arms crossed, and motionless as a signpost. Ho! Eustace! Eustace!"

At the call, the companion of Captain Marion approached slowly, with his arms crossed over his breast. He was a man of middle size and vigorous frame. His pale blonde hair and beard, his bilious complexion, his harsh and sullen physiognomy offered a striking contrast to the pleasant exterior of the captain. I asked myself what singular affinity could draw two men of such different appearance, and doubtless also such dissimilar characters, into close and constant friendship.

"How is that, friend Eustace," the captain jokingly remarked to him, "you remain yonder looking at me with crossed arms, while I am engaged in holding back a runaway team?"

"You are strong," Eustace answered; "what aid can the flesh-worm bring to the bull?"

"That man is certainly consumed with jealousy and hatred," I thought to myself at hearing the answer and observing the sullen looks of the captain's friend.

"Captain," answered the soldier with a bitter smile, "did I ever forsake you in the hour of danger? Have I not always fought at your side, since we left the forge together?"

"I bear witness to the truth of that," cried Marion cordially, taking Eustace by the hand. "As true as the sword you carry is the last weapon I forged in order to give you a token of friendship, as it is engraved on the blade, you have ever in battle 'marched in my shadow,' as the saying goes in my country."

"What is there strange about that?" replied the soldier. "Beside you, so brave and robust, I was what the shadow is to the body."

"By the devil! Look at the shadow! My friend Eustace!" the captain exclaimed and laughed, and addressing me he added pointing at his companion Eustace:

"Let me have two or three thousand shadows like that, and the first battle that we fight on the other side of the Rhine, I shall bring back a herd of Frankish prisoners."

"You are a captain of renown! I, like so many other poor waifs, are good only to obey, to fight and to be killed. We are only meat for battles," replied the old blacksmith with an envious look and his lips slightly losing their color.

"Captain," I said to Marion, "I presume you wish to see Victorin and his mother?"

"Yes, I have a report to render to Victorin of a journey that my friend and I have just made."

The captain shrugged his shoulders with impatience and jokingly shook his enormous fist at his friend.

"Captain," I insisted, addressing Marion, "let us hasten to Victoria. I should have been with her since dawn. I am late."

"Friend Eustace," Marion said, starting to walk with me toward Victoria's residence, "will you stay here, or wait for me at our lodging?"

"I shall wait here at the door—that is a subaltern's place."

"Would you believe it, Schanvoch," Marion replied laughing, "would you believe that it is nearly twenty years that lad and I live together and quarrel like two brothers? He will not forget that I am a captain, and will not treat me as a simple anvil-beater, as he formerly used to."

"I am not the only one, Marion, to realize the difference there is between us," Eustace answered. "You are one of the most renowned captains in the army—I am only one of the least of its soldiers."

Saying this Eustace sat down on a stone near the door, and bit his nails.

"He is incorrigible," the captain remarked to me; and we two entered the house of Victoria.

"Captain Marion must be strangely blinded by friendship," I thought to myself, "to fail to perceive that his companion is consumed with malevolent jealousy."

Despite the camp life, Marion preserved great austerity of morals. He seemed shocked to learn that Victorin had not yet returned home, and he cast a dissatisfied look at me. I wished to excuse Victoria's son, and said to him:

"Let us not be hasty in believing evil. Tetrik, the Governor of Gascony, arrived yesterday at the camp. It may be that Victorin spent the night in conference with him."

"So much the better. I would like to see that young man, who to-day is chief of the Gauls, free himself from the claws of that pest of profligacy that drives so many of us to evil deeds. As to myself, the moment I see a woman's bonnet or a short skirt, I turn my head away as if I saw the devil in person."

"Victorin improves, and he will improve still more with ripening years," I replied to the captain. "But what can we do—he is young—he loves pleasure—and pretty girls."

"I also love pleasure, and furiously, too!" exclaimed the good captain. "There is nothing that I delight more in, when my duties are done, than to enter my lodging and empty a pot of cool beer with my friend Eustace, while we chat over our old trade, or entertain ourselves furbishing our weapons and good armor. Those are real pleasures! And notwithstanding all the excitement that one finds in them, they are absolutely honorable. Let us hope, Schanvoch, that Victorin may some day prefer them to his immodest and diabolical orgies with the pretty girls, that scandalize us."

I wish, my son, for your benefit and the benefit of our descendants, to trace here the portrait of that illustrious Gallic woman, one of the purest glories of our country.

In the middle of the chamber, and not far from the seat occupied by the Mother of the Camps near her grandson's cradle, several rolls of parchment, together with all that was necessary for writing, lay upon a table. From the wall hung the two casques and swords of Victoria's father and husband, both killed in the same battle. One of the two casques was surmounted by the Gallic cock of gilt bronze, with his wings partly spread, and holding under his feet a lark that he menaced with his beak. The emblem was adopted by Victoria's father as a military ornament after a heroic combat in which, at the head of only a handful of men, he exterminated a Roman legion that bore a lark on its ensign. Under the weapons stood a little brass vase in which seven twigs of mistletoe were arranged. Gaul, you must remember, my son, reconquered her religious liberty in recovering her independence. Close to the brass vase and the twigs of mistletoe, a druid symbol, was a wooden cross, in commemoration of the death of Jesus of Nazareth, for whom the Mother of the Camps, without being a Christian, professed profound admiration. She looked upon him as one of the sages who shed luster upon humanity.

Such, my son, was Victoria the Great, the illustrious Gallic woman whose name our descendants will ever pronounce with pride.

"Welcome, brother! The mission was a dangerous one. Not seeing you back before sunset, I did not wish to send any message to your house, lest I alarm your wife by showing uneasiness at your prolonged absence. But here you are; I feel happy to see you back again."

Saying this Victoria pressed my hand tenderly in hers.

The words that we spoke must have disturbed the slumber of Victoria's grandson; he moved in his cradle and made a slight sound. Victoria stepped quickly to him, and kissed the child on the forehead. She then sat down, and placing the tip of her foot on a treadle below the cradle, rocked it gently, while she continued her conversation with me.

"And the message?" she asked, "how did the barbarians receive it? Are they ready for peace? Do they want war? Did they accept our proposition?"

I was just about to begin giving my foster-sister a complete account of my mission, when she interrupted me with a gesture, and, reflecting a second, proceeded to say:

"Do you know that my dear relative Tetrik has been here since yesterday?"

"I know it, sister."

"He is due here any moment. I prefer that you make the report to me before him only."

"I shall do so. Can you receive Captain Marion? He came for a conference with Victorin."

"Schanvoch, my son again spent the night out of the house!" remarked Victoria plying her needle more quickly, an action that, with her, always denoted deep annoyance.

Victoria remained silent for a moment; she then dropped her needlework on her lap, raised her head and resumed in a tone of suppressed grief:

"Victorin has vices—his vices are smothering his good parts. Moths destroy the best of grain."

"Have confidence and hope—age will mature him."

"During the last two years his vices grow upon him, his good parts decline."

"His bravery, his generosity, his frankness have not degenerated."

"His bravery no longer is the calm and provident bravery that becomes a general—it is becoming blind—headless. His generosity no longer distinguishes between the worthy and the unworthy. His reasoning powers decline—wine and debauchery are killing him. By Hesus! A drunkard and a debauché! He, my son! One of the chiefs of Gaul, free to-day and, perhaps, to-morrow, matchless among nations. Schanvoch, I am an unfortunate mother!"

"Victorin loves me—I shall reprove him severely."

"Do you imagine that your remonstrances will accomplish what the prayers of his own mother have failed to do? Of the mother who never left his side all his life, following him with the army, often even into battle? Schanvoch, Hesus punishes me—I have been too proud of my son!"

"What does it matter, if he dishonors me! And yet, my only ambition was to make of my son a citizen, a man worthy of our fathers! Did I not, when nourishing him with my milk, also nourish him with an ardent and holy love for our Gaul that was coming to life again—and to freedom! What was it that I asked; what was it that I always desired? To live an obscure life and ignored, but devote my night-watches and my days, my intelligence, my knowledge of the past, which enables me to understand the present, and at times to peer into the future—in short, to devote all the energies of my soul and of my mind to rendering my son brave, wise, enlightened, worthy at all points of guiding the free men who chose him their chief. And then, Hesus is my witness, proud as a Gallic woman, happy as a mother of having given birth to such a man, I would have enjoyed his glory and my country's prosperity in the seclusion of my humble home. But to have a drunkard and debauché for a son! Oh, wrath of heaven! Does not the giddy-headed boy understand that every excess that he indulges in is a slap that he gives his mother in the face? If he does not understand it, our soldiers do. Yesterday, as I crossed the camp, three old horsemen rode towards me. Do you know what they said to me? 'Mother, we pity you!'—and they rode off dejectedly. Schanvoch, I tell you, I am an unhappy mother!"

"You have."

"Well, at this moment I take up his defense. These soldiers, whom we see to-day so full of scruples on the score of slips that are frequent with young chiefs, act, not so much in obedience to their own scruples, as in obedience to perfidious incitements that emanate from some secret enemy."

"What do you mean?"

"There are people who envy your son; they envy his influence over the troops. In order to undo him, his defects are being exploited so as to furnish a foundation for infamous calumnies."

"Who is jealous of Victorin? Who would have an interest in spreading such calumnies?"

"It is especially during the last month, not so, that this hostility to your son has manifested itself and has been on the increase?"

"Yes, yes; but whom do you suspect of inciting it?"

"Sister, what I am about to tell you is serious. It is a month ago that one of your relatives, the Governor of Gascony, came to Mayence—"

"Tetrik!"

"Yes; he departed after a stay of a few days! Almost immediately after Tetrik's departure the silent hostility towards your son began, and has since steadily grown!"

Victoria looked at me in silence, as if she did not quite grasp the bearing of my words. But a sudden thought seeming to flash through her mind, she cried in a tone of reproach:

"I suspect that man!"

"Oh, you iron-headed, inflexible nature! Why should you suspect Tetrik? By what right? What has he done? By Hesus! If you were not my brother—if I did not know your heart—I would think you are jealous of my esteem for my relative!"

Victoria had barely uttered these last words, when she seemed to regret having allowed them to escape her. She said:

"Forget these words!"

"They would greatly grieve me, sister, if the unjust doubt that they express could blind you to the truth."

At this moment the servant entered and asked whether Tetrik could be admitted.

"Let him in," answered Victoria, "let him in immediately."