"Several paces behind her a fat, very fat man came waddling along. She didn't see me, for she was looking straight in front of her, and her face was not merry as usual, but very sorrowful. I risked the chance that the panting fellow would hear me. But I didn't trust myself to call with a human voice; I began the warbling notes of the chaffinch. Often and often we had practised together to try which could imitate it the more closely; but I did better and lured the little male bird in a fit of furious jealousy to my hiding-place among the leaves. Bissula started, looked toward the gap in the palisades where the bird--so late in the season--was singing, saw and instantly recognized me; she could probably see only my eyes, not my disfiguring sooty hair. Stooping as if to look for the finch, she whispered: 'Save me quickly.'"
An expression of delight flashed over Adalo's handsome face. "She does not love him; she wants to return!" his heart cried exultingly. Sippilo noticed it and guessed the cause of his joy. His young face grew very grave as he went on: "But alas, she added: 'Terrible danger, the greatest, threatens me!'"
Adalo groaned and clutched the nearest tent pole to support himself: his brain was reeling.
"Go on," said the Duke.
"She could say no more, for the fat man was now close behind her: I saw some long yellowish-white thing sticking out of the front of his mantle.
"'This is unbearable!' she cried furiously, turning upon him. 'Are you my shadow, slave? Why do you follow at my heels? Leave me!'
"'By command of my lord the Tribune.'
"'Indeed?' she cried, half mischievously, half angrily. 'Then--by command of your lord, the Tribune, you shall run and sweat well. Can you catch the roe of the lake forest?'
"And she darted off as swiftly as the merlin shoots down the mountain stream. The fat man, panting and swearing, followed. At the end of the road along the wall she turned, glided nimbly past the breathless slave, and again ran toward me: she probably wanted to tell me something, but I understood only the one word, 'hasten!'
"Then she was gone; for her companion, pursuing her, now approached me. When directly opposite he raised his cloak, which was hanging around his legs, and the yellowish-white thing dropped from his breast. He puffed along, and it rolled close to the two posts in the sides of my hole. I hastily snatched it. I wanted to wait for Bissula to pass again, but I saw several splendidly armed Romans stop her, and all went into the inner camp. Then I drew myself backward from between the posts (it wasn't easy; a little skin and hair were left sticking there in remembrance of Sippilo), slid down the wall, climbed the other side of the ditch, entered the bushes, crept back to my former place, and came just as Zercho gave the she-bear to the guards and left the camp."