Outside the camp had grown up a village of considerable size, though it consisted for the most part of humble dwellings. There were two or three taverns, or rather drinking-shops, where the soldiers could carouse on the thin, sour wine of the British vineyards, or, if the length of their purses permitted, on metheglin, a more potent drink, made from the fermentation of honey. A Jew, driven by the restless speculation of his race, had established himself in a shop where he sold cheap ornaments to the soldiers’ wives, and advanced money to their husbands on the security of their pay. A tailor displayed tunics and cloaks, and a shoemaker sold boots warranted to resist the cold and wet of the island climate. There were a few cottages occupied by the grooms and stablemen who attended to the horses employed in the camp, by fishermen who plied their trade in the neighbouring waters, and other persons of a variety of miscellaneous employments in one way or other connected with the camp. But just outside the main [pg 86]street, at the end nearest to the camp, stood a house of somewhat greater pretensions. It was indeed a humble imitation of the Roman villa, being built round three sides of an irregular square, which was itself occupied by a grass plot and a few flower beds. It was to this that the Centurion Decius bent his steps after the conversation related in the last chapter. It was evidently with the reluctant step of the bearer of bad news that he proceeded on his way. As soon as he entered the enclosure his approach was observed from within. Two blooming girls, whose ages may have been seventeen and fifteen respectively, ran gaily to meet him. A woman some twenty-five years older, but still youthful of aspect and handsome, followed at a more sober pace.
“What is the matter, father?” cried the elder of the girls, who had been quick to perceive that all was not right.
The centurion held up his hand and made a signal for silence. “Hush,” he said; “I have something to tell you, but it must not be here. Let us go indoors.”
“Shall the children leave us alone?” said the centurion’s wife, who had now come up.
“No,” he answered, wearily, “let them be with us while they can,” he added in a low voice, which only the wife’s ears, made keenly alive by affection and fear, could catch.
The gaiety of the young people was quenched, [pg 87]for, without having any idea of what had happened, they could see plainly enough that something was disturbing their parents; and it was with fast beating hearts that they waited for his explanation.
“Our happy days here are over, my dearest,” said the centurion, drawing his wife to him, and tenderly kissing her, as soon as they were within doors.
“You mean,” said she, “that the order has come.”
“Yes,” he answered, “we are to leave as soon as the transports can be collected. The resolution was made to-day and will be announced to the army to-morrow. It is no secret, I suppose, or will not be for long.”
“And where are we to go?” cried the elder of the girls, whose face brightened as the thought of seeing a little more of the world, of a home in one of the cities of Gaul, possibly in Rome itself, flitted across her mind.