"Alas! she probably fled with her people long ago. And yet, I am so ready to believe what I desire!"
"Yes, that is one of your most amiable weaknesses,"
"Am I to hope for what I fear?"
"No, but to think what we do not desire more probable than what we wish--that is my wisdom."
"No, no! I will not allow myself to be robbed of the hope that I shall again see the little nymph of these forests."
"But if I catch her," cried the Tribune, laughing, "she will be mine according to the laws of war."
A sudden change of expression--like a flash of lightning--flickered across Herculanus's hazard visage. The Tribune did not see; his eyes were fixed upon Ausonius's face, wondering that his features should pale with fear.
"Can this feeling be so deep-seated in my worthy friend?" he thought.
"Uncle, surely you know that the Tribune is jesting," cried Herculanus, as if to comfort him.
The Illyrian turned toward him with a threatening bearing, saying in a stern, grave tone: "Who tells you so?"