and she herself be driven out to perish upon the cold hill-side.

As she looked at her guest, lying asleep in a corner, and frowning a little with the pain of his wound, she felt as though she hated him.

An ugly look came into her face as she realised her helplessness.

Presently she heard cries echoing in the valley, and peeping from the door of the hut she saw some flying Britons, closely pursued by two Roman soldiers.

The Britons disappeared in a thicket and were lost, and as the woman watched the soldiers beating the bushes and brambles with their swords in a vain search for the fugitives, a very evil thought came into her mind.

She left the hut, and crept along in the shelter of the rocks and trees, so that the soldiers might not see where she had come from.

The soldiers were very much surprised when a little wild-looking, wrinkled old woman stood before them, trying to tell them something in the language that the Britons spoke.

They soon understood that she was offering to show them the hiding-place of a captive far more important than the poor British warriors whom they had been pursuing.

'Come along then, old woman,' said one of the soldiers; 'show us the way.'

A sly look came into the woman's small twinkling eyes. 'Wait a little,' she said; 'what are you going to give me for delivering this great captive into your hands?'

The soldiers looked at each other; and then one of them offered her a gold coin.

The old woman shook her head.

'No,' she said; 'this is a very, very great man, and the Romans would like very much to catch him. You must give me far more than that if I show you the way to his hiding-place.'

The soldiers consulted together for a moment. From the old woman's manner, she evidently had a noted chief or leader in her power.

'Here, old dame,' they said, 'if your prisoner is of such importance, you must come with us to the general.'

The old woman was delighted. The Roman general was of course a very rich man, and no doubt he would give her a great deal of money for the captive.

'Let us be quick,' she said; 'my prisoner may wake up and go away before we come back.'

The soldiers were astonished at the nimble way in which the old creature skipped over the stones and heather, her little short steps covering the ground as quickly as their long, steady strides. They were almost inclined to think that she must be one of the witches about whom the Britons told such strange stories.

The general was not far away; and soon the old woman's little greedy eyes were looking up into his grave stern face.

'Well, my good woman,' he said, 'who is this prisoner?'

The old woman grinned, showing a few tusklike teeth. 'He is a very great man,' she said, 'and I can only give him up for a large sum of money.'

'Tell me first who he is,' said the general; 'we can talk about the reward afterwards.'

There was no one that the Romans despised so much as a traitor, and the general thought this old woman was the most mean and base person he had ever met.

'The prisoner,' said the woman, with a still wider grin, 'is Caradoc himself. He came to my hut after the battle; and you should have seen how pale and weary he was! He thought I would shelter him, because he is my son-in-law, but after he had fallen asleep I said to myself, "The Romans are good folk, and they will be grateful to an old woman who hands over a wicked rebel——"'

'That will do, my good woman,' said the general, cutting her short. 'Here is a bag of gold; it is your fee for delivering the British leader into our hands. Come and show us where he is to be found; or if you are playing us false it will be the worse for you.'

The old woman's fingers closed round the gold, and her delight at getting so much money prevented her from feeling the contempt in the general's voice and eyes.

Presently the tiny hut was surrounded by Roman soldiers. Bending his tall form at the doorway, the general entered, followed by two soldiers leading between them the old woman, whose skinny fingers were tightly clutching the bag of gold.

Caradoc stirred in his sleep, then he sat up and looked at the Romans.

His eyes fell upon his mother-in-law; and he understood.

He had to stand up and submit to having his hands bound behind his back by the Roman soldiers.

The old woman left the hut and disappeared with her ill-gotten gains.

For once in her life she felt ashamed of herself.

She had betrayed her country, and although she was now one of the richest women in Britain she was never really happy again.

When the wounded chieftain joined the other prisoners in the Roman camp, his wife and daughter fell into his arms, weeping.

Caradoc tried his best to comfort them, and he begged all the prisoners to have courage, and to bear their misfortunes like brave men and women.

After this victory the Roman general returned to his own country. Caradoc and the other prisoners were carried on board the vessels of the conquerors; and after a voyage of many days they landed upon the strange, unknown shores of Italy.

The Roman people were delighted to hear that the wild, savage island of Britain had at last been subdued, and when the victorious general reached the city they resolved to give him a public triumph.

The emperor and empress sat on thrones in front of their palace while the general was drawn through the streets in a chariot decked with flowers and garlands. All the citizens came out to see him, and the balconies and even the roofs of the houses were crowded with people who shouted and hurrahed and threw up their caps as the conqueror passed by.

Behind the chariot came the troops who had taken part in the victory. The soldiers marched past in fighting array; their helmets and spears garlanded with flowers and with wreaths of laurel, and they looked round them proudly in response to the shouts of their countrymen.

But these were not the only people who took part in the procession.

Immediately behind the general followed the captives whom he had taken in the war; Caradoc with his wife and daughter and the other prisoners who had helped him in his nine years' struggle with the Romans.

As these poor captives passed, loaded with chains, the people in the streets jeered at them and shouted out unkind speeches. Most of the prisoners walked with downcast eyes and sad faces, but Caradoc marched along with so proud a bearing that the spectators wondered at the courage shown by this savage chief. He did not seem to feel the dust and glare, or to be abashed by the hard, unfeeling gaze of the thousands of people who had come out to stare at him.

As he passed he looked at the fine buildings, at the triumphal arches, and the marble palaces, and at the gaily dressed people who thronged the streets. Sometimes he looked up into the sunny Italian sky; and he was evidently thinking deeply. Some one asked him what he was thinking about.

'I was wondering,' said Caradoc, 'how these people could envy me my mud cottage and my few fields so far away in our poor, cold, northern Britain?'

The spectators, who had flocked from all parts of Italy to see the famous chief, began to think it was a pity that so brave a man should be put to death.

After the triumph, the emperor wished to meet this gallant savage face to face.

Caradoc and his wife were brought before Claudius, who, in royal garments of purple and gold, was seated upon an ivory throne.

Caradoc looked at the emperor with his calm, brave eyes, and did not appear to be in the least dismayed.

Claudius said to himself that this British chief was a truly great man. He asked his prisoner what he thought of Rome.

'I think it is a very great and wonderful city,' replied Caradoc, 'and that its people are a very great people.'

'Do you know what this great people do to those who have been bold enough to resist their will?' asked the emperor.

'Yes,' replied