“And how many men can you bring into the field?” asked the more practical Julian; “and what money can you find for the pay of the soldiers?”
The stranger was taken aback at these direct questions.
“All my subjects, all my treasures are yours,” he said, after a pause.
“I don’t believe,” said one of the tribunes in Latin to Julian, “that he has any subjects besides this wretched interpreter, or any treasure beyond what he wears on his neck and his fingers.”
“Shall he withdraw?” said Julian to his father.
Constantine, who never spoke when he could avoid speaking, answered by a nod, and the Irish Prince withdrew.
“Let us have nothing to do,” said the practical Julian, “with these Irish savages. They may cut their own throats, and welcome, without our helping them. The men, too, would rebel at the bare mention of Ierne. It is out of the world in their eyes, and I think they are about right. And as to the gold and pearls, I don’t believe in them.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Constans; “but it would be a great work to bring over a new nation to the orthodox faith.”
Julian answered with a laugh. “My good brother, we are not all such zealous missionaries as you. I am afraid that preaching is not exactly the work which our friends the soldiers are looking out for.”
“What does your Majesty say to an expedition to chastise those thieving Picts? They grow more insolent every day.”