Nothing! And we have always been friendly neighbors. He would not have refused me; but I did not want you as a gift from another, you defiant creature. I wanted the playmate of my childhood to give herself to me. Yes, I confess I hoped that she retained from those childish days a little--just a little affection."

"Presumptuous fellow!"

"And now the hour and the danger loosed my tongue. The Romans are approaching. Who knows what they may bring us? But you have repulsed me with undeserved suspicion, disdained my loyal aid. True,"--here his brow contracted with mingled grief and anger,--"perhaps the foe will not injure you."

"What do you mean?" asked Waldrun. Her tone expressed dread of some fresh cause for contention between the two young people. Bissula, without speaking, darted a flashing glance at him.

"For years," Adalo went on with suppressed indignation, "you have had friends among these hated enemies--at least one friend. Perhaps he will return hither with the cohorts now threatening us--the wise, eloquent, and wealthy Senator! Of course a German noble, a 'Barbarian,' cannot vie with him in gifts of jewels, rare fruit, and foreign flowers. That I belong to your own people and he to our mortal foes--what care you? You need, nay perchance you desire, neither marsh nor mountain as a defence against your--friend!"

"Silence, Adalo! She was then only thirteen. The noble Roman might be her father, nay, almost her grandfather."

"But he was so clever! He understood how to choose his words so skilfully that usually I could not comprehend them at all. And Albfledis was so fond of listening to the language of the foe!"

"At least," the girl hastily retorted, "Ausonius never used the language of insolent mockery to the child. And since you have provoked me to it, I tell you: yes, if the noble, kindly Roman should ever come again and wish, as he did then, to take me with him as his child to his beautiful country, his splendid pillared mansion,--listen,--I would rather go with him, his daughter, than listen to you and your contemptuous suit."

"Stay, Albfledis," said the youth, drawing himself up proudly, "Enough! My suit? It is ended forever. Never will I repeat it--I swear by this spear. You have scorned me--have openly preferred the Roman. Hear my vow, in the presence of your ancestress and the all-seeing sun: Never again will Adalo woo you. Though the ardent longing of my heart should consume me, I will die ere I approach you again with words of entreaty."

"Alas!" wailed the blind woman, "alas for my dearest wish! Is it never to be fulfilled?"

"If it should be. Mother Waldrun, Albfledis must first come to me in my hall, and say: 'Adalo, here I am! Take me for your wife!'"

"Oh, what shameless insolence!" cried Bissula, frantic with grief and rage. Seizing one of the blocks of stone which formed the rude table before the oak, she tried to hurl it at the hated man. Her little hands tore at the jagged rock without avail, till the fingers bled, but the heavy block remained unmoved, and bursting into tears of helpless rage, she flung herself upon the ground.

The old woman bent over her, listening anxiously to her sobs, but Adalo had neither seen nor heard aught of these things. Even as he uttered the last words, he turned his back upon the women, his face dark with pride and anger, and throwing his spear over his shoulder, leaped down the slope so swiftly that his yellow locks floated wildly around his handsome head.

CHAPTER VIII.

Days had passed since the incident related in the last chapter. The Romans had entered the country without encountering the slightest resistance. After encamping on the summit of Meersburg and resting during the following day, they had set forth again and, turning somewhat inland from the lake and its swampy shores, reached the Idisenhang.

Finding this commanding position undefended, they had formed a permanent camp here at the spot agreed upon with the troops which had embarked on the fleet. As soon as this seemed sufficiently fortified to be defended by a small garrison left behind, and their comrades in Arbon had the fleet ready, the latter were to cross, land, and begin the pursuit of the invisible Barbarians.

But scarcely had Nannienus seen from Arbon on the opposite shore that the column sent by land had reached the spot appointed and established a camp, when he despatched by a swift fisher-boat tidings which threatened to defer the progress of the enterprise for an indefinite time. As soon as the experienced commander reached the Roman post he discovered that the equipment of the necessary vessels would require far more time than had been expected.

The reports of the magistrates and officers to the distant Emperor, which represented a considerable portion of the old Roman fleet as still in existence and, moreover, strengthened by newly built ships, proved false and shamefully exaggerated: these unprincipled men, corrupt, like nearly all the officials in the Empire, had concealed their numerous defeats in which the Barbarians had gradually destroyed these ships; they had then appropriated the money furnished to build new ones, and reported them completed.

This was the discovery made by the Comes of Britannia, who announced with fierce indignation--he had sent the treacherous quaestors and nauarchs in chains to the Emperor at Vindonissa--that though he had ordered work to be carried on in the little dockyard night and day, the intended landing must be deferred to a considerably later period. Energetic Saturninus was incensed by this enforced idleness: but he could do nothing save vituperate the corruption of the magistracy, the Empire, the whole age, and--wait.

The richly decorated tent intended for the Prefect of Gaul was pitched upon the very summit of the height which is now occupied by the cemetery of the village of Berg. Soft rugs, piled one above another, covered the ground; a couch was placed against the back of the leather tent, and beside it stood a table adorned with costly drinking-vessels. An old freedman, a slave, and the cup-bearer were engaged in giving the last touches. There were places for three on the horseshoe-shaped couch, and a row of goblets stood on the table; for, though the cœna had been served in the Tribune's tent, the Prefect had invited him and his nephew to take some choice wine after the meal in the Praetorian one.

While the servants were busied in preparing the table, the loose leather at the poles in the rear of the tent was repeatedly raised noiselessly and then dropped again. No one observed it. Two of the men now went out, but the cupbearer still lingered to wipe again and again the inside of a magnificent silver goblet, which, supported by three graceful female figures, bore the inscription: "The graces to their favorite, Ausonius."

"Not ready yet, Davus?" the old freedman had asked in a tone of vexation, as he turned away.

"No, Prosper. You know our master will drink only from this cup, the Emperor's gift, and he is so particular about it."

The slave was scarcely alone when the leather flap of the tent was again raised, a watchful face was thrust cautiously in. "Alone at last!" a voice whispered.

"I was waiting for you, my lord."

"Well? To-day? At the nocturnal carouse?"

"No. I dare not attempt it yet. Your uncle is as well as he was at home in Burdigala. Let him first sicken under this Barbarian sky, the unwonted fatigues of camp life in the rain and swamps; then it will be easier. But now--in perfect health? No, no! Have patience. Wait a little longer."

"I cannot. My