"Artaban!... Artaban!... Woe be on us! Cæsar, he has deceived thee!"
"Impossible!... And the slaves?" stammered the Emperor, overwhelmed.
"Have just confessed under torture that Artaban was not a satrap, but a tax-collector of Ctesiphon. He invented this device to save the city, and lead you into the desert to deliver you to the Persians. He knew that you would burn the ships. They also said that Sapor was advancing at the head of a great army."
The Emperor rushed to the river-bank to find Victor—
"Put out the fires!—quench them quickly as possible!"
But his voice failed. Staring at the huge blaze Julian perceived that no human force could conquer the flames, which were augmented by a violent wind.
He held his head in his hands, and although with no faith nor prayer in his heart, raised his eyes to heaven, as if there seeking succour. The stars were shining above, faint, almost invisible.
The mutiny rolled on, becoming more and more menacing.
"The Persians have burned the ships!" groaned some, stretching their arms toward the river.
"No, no, it was the generals, to drag us still farther into the desert and leave us there," others cried incoherently.