“They are heretics—these Goths,” grumbled Constans; “obstinate Arians every one of them, I told——”
“You shall convert them, my brother,” answered [pg 82]Julian, “when you are Bishop of Rome. When we divide the West between us, that shall be your portion.”
“It shall be done,” said Constantine again, as he rose from his chair.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE NEWS IN THE CAMP.
That afternoon a banquet, which was as handsomely set out as the very short notice permitted, was given to all the officers in the camp. When the tables were removed,[28] Constantine, who had been carefully primed by his sons with what he was to say, addressed his guests. His words were few and to the point. “Britain,” he said, “has been long enough ruled by others. It is now time that she should begin herself to rule. It was the error of those who went before me to be content with the limits of this island. But here there is not enough to content us. Beyond the sea, separated from us by only a few hours’ journey, lie wealthy provinces which wait for our coming. A kindlier sky, more fertile fields, richer and fairer cities than ours are there. We have only to show ourselves, in short, to be both [pg 84]welcomed and obeyed. Half the victories which we have won here to no profit over poverty-stricken barbarians would have sufficed to give us riches even beyond our desires. Henceforth let us use our arms where they may win something for us beyond empty honour and wounds. Follow me, and within a year you shall be masters both of Gaul and Spain.”
The younger guests received this oration with shouts of applause; visions of promotion and prize-money, and even of the spoil of some of the wealthy cities of the mainland floated before them. The older men did not show this enthusiasm. Many of them were attached to Britain by ties that they were very loth to break. They had little to hope, but much to fear, from a change. Still, they saw the necessity for doing something; another year such as that which had just passed would thoroughly demoralize the army of Britain. Legions that get into the habit of making emperors and killing them for their pastime must be dealt with by vigorous remedies, and the easiest and best of these was active service. In any case it would have been impolitic to show dissent. Many feigned, therefore, a joy which they did not feel, and shouted approval when the Senior Tribune exclaimed, “Comrades, drink to our chief, Constantine Augustus, Emperor of Britain and the West.”
The revel was kept up late into the night, the young Goth distinguishing himself by the marvellous depth [pg 85]of his draughts and the equally marvellous strength of his head.
The Emperor retired early from the scene, and Constans, who had little liking for these boisterous scenes, followed his example, as did most of the older men. One of these, the cheery centurion, who has been mentioned more than once, we may follow to his home.