"Yes, the foreigner who stayed so long in Arbor several years ago. But he didn't seize the child; it was another, younger man."
"Did you not hear his name? Was it anything like Saturninus?"
"My lord, his name was not spoken, or I did not hear it. He was a fine-looking man in glittering armor."
"But he took his prisoner to Ausonius?"
"Yes. Yet he did not lift her on Ausonius's white horse, as the latter seemed to ask, but swung the struggling girl upon another--a black one--perhaps, yes, probably his own."
The Duke remained silent and thoughtful. At last he said: "The Adeling is not to reach the Roman camp until twilight is closing in tomorrow. Before he rides forth he will receive some directions from me. Tell him so. And"--here he lowered his voice to a whisper, much to the surprise of the slave, since there was no one in the tent--"if a faithful and cunning man should venture to introduce himself or some one else in disguise into the hostile camp and tell me what he saw there,--for I fear they will not give Adalo much chance to look about him,--and this man should be a slave, I would buy his freedom."
"Great Father!" exclaimed the Sarmatian, throwing himself prostrate before the Duke and trying to kiss his feet.
The old man angrily thrust him back with the handle of his spear: "Are you a dog, that you want to lick my feet?"
"Zercho is a Jazyge," said the bondman, rising and rubbing his bruised shins. "Thus my people honor one who is worthy of honor."
"But we sons of the Ases do not bend the knee even to the mighty King of Asgard when we call upon him and desire to honor him. Now go. Perhaps it will be well that Adalo should not know what is to happen."