“One Who sees and loves!” responded Damaris; “Who sees thee caring for these His children, and I believe brings them through thee to me. I will do all I can.”
She went straight to her husband, who was in consultation with his steward, in his room of business. After dismissing the attendant, she said,
“Fabricius, these captives, the friends of Marius, who helped to save his life, are here. We shall have to ransom them at once.”
“My lady is imperious,” he replied, smiling, “and must of course be obeyed. But where are the revenues? The taxes and imposts for these wars are ruinous. Only just now the forester from our farms on the Sabine hills has been telling me the slaves will not work. They are probably meditating another flight to the barbarians, as in the days of Alaric, and everything is going to ruin.
“We must sell some of our land,” she said.
“No one will buy,” he replied. “They say Attila the Hun will soon return to avenge his defeat and ravage the country.”
“I will part with my jewels,” she said.
He made a deprecatory gesture, and said—
“I was but pointing out to thee we were not Olympians to command the clouds, nor, alas! of those who found the tribute-money miraculously stored in the mouths of fishes. What thou commandest must certainly be done. But what can then be done with the captives we shall have to see.”