"Poison! Do not drink, Ausonius!" She fell forward headlong on the Prefect's couch.
Herculanus sprang up with the speed of lightning, to snatch the cup from his uncle's hand and pour its contents on the ground. But, before he reached him, the Tribune, who had dropped his own goblet, clutched him with a grasp of iron. In spite of his violent struggles, Herculanus could not move forward an inch. Davus, the old freedman running at his heels, darted toward the entrance. Prosper shouted loudly, but Davus went no farther than the door; for here he encountered the Batavian, Rignomer, who seized him by the throat and held him fast.
Ausonius, horrified and bewildered, had set the goblet on the table before him, and now raised Bissula's head. "Poison?" he asked sorrowfully. "Poison me? Who?"
"The dog of a slave, of course!" cried Herculanus, struggling furiously in the Illyrian's hold. "Are you in league with Davus, Tribune? Why do you prevent me from punishing the scoundrel?" And now he actually succeeded in releasing his right hand and gripping the dagger in his belt.
"Don't let him go," shrieked Bissula, who had now recovered her senses. "He is the instigator!"
Just at that moment, summoned by Prosper, who had rushed out screaming for help, two Thracians on guard before the Prefect's tent, and two Illyrians who chanced to be passing, came in and, by the Tribune's orders, seized Herculanus and the slave, who, pale and trembling, could scarcely stand.
Ausonius, groaning aloud, sank back on his pillows.
CHAPTER XLIII.
Saturninus, no longer occupied with his prisoner, stepped forward into the centre of the tent, saying: "In the name of the Emperor Gratianus! As General and Commander of this camp I open the investigation. Speak, girl! You, a slave, a captive Barbarian, are making a terrible charge against a Roman leader. Weigh your words! Death is the penalty for false accusation of such a deed."
But Bissula did not shrink. She had now recovered her strength and calmness, and gave no thought to herself; her mind was occupied solely with the old friend who lay sighing on his cushions, and who had never been so dear to her as in the helplessness of his anguish. Briefly, clearly, and simply she related the conversation between the two men, to which, in the boughs of the pine-tree, she had been an involuntary listener.