"Bruna!" she called again; then her senses seemed to fail. There was a strange roaring in her ears; the water filled her nose, mouth, and ears, and she sank.
Just at that moment four strong arms seized her by the shoulders, and the white hands flung high out of the waves for the last time. With great, but tender strength she was lifted into the boat. Then she opened her eyes: Ausonius and Saturninus stood before her. She shrieked aloud in the anguish of the keenest disappointment; her eyelids closed, her senses failed, and faintness overwhelmed her.
CHAPTER LV.
Even the reënforcements of Saturninus's troops could not have changed the result of the battle around the ships and the camp on the lake-shore: the die had fallen long before, nay, almost at the moment the conflict began; for the surprise here had been almost more complete than in the assault upon the Idisenhang.
In spite of the chill of the September night, the brave Commander, Nannienus, had had his couch prepared on the high quarter-deck, above the second bank of oars of his bireme; a very simple bed, consisting of a woolen blanket spread over the planks, a coil of rope under his neck and his Breton cloak for a coverlet. In reply to the warning of the colonist from Arbor, who now relieved the helmsman, against the nocturnal coolness of the lake, he had said, smiling:
"Oh, how often I have crossed at night, no more warmly wrapped, between Britain and Gaul! Is the German ocean to be shamed by this fresh water pond? There is no better sleeping potion than the rocking ship beneath me and the stars above! Unfortunately, tonight there is no moon and there are few stars. Strange, this constant calling of the swans. I never supposed there could be so many!"
While thinking of the swan notes, he fell asleep, but they haunted his dreams. He saw countless white, brown, and black swans coming from both sides of the marshy forest against his squadron, raising their wings threateningly as if to strike.
After a long sleep he awoke: gradually, as is natural after healthy slumber, not all at once, his thoughts began to clear. Was he still dreaming? It seemed as if the calling and singing of the swans on both sides actually came nearer, accompanied by a peculiar low whistling, humming, rippling, with now and then a louder splash in the water. Still half asleep he asked the man at the helm: "What is that humming among the rushes?"
"The swans, my lord, the wild swans," replied the helmsman, the old Roman colonist from Arbor. He was a retired member of the Twenty-second Legion, faithful to the Cæsar. "I know it well! I have often seen them at sunset going by thousands to the marshy forests of this lake. They are preparing to migrate."
"No," cried the Breton starting up. "Those are no water birds, the splashing is too loud." Lifting the helmet from his head, he gazed out keenly.