Bissula opened her eyes in the utmost astonishment, gazing at the Roman with the expression of a captured deer. The iron tramp of a marching cohort was heard close at hand, but the tents still concealed it from their gaze.
"What do you mean?" she stammered.
"I will tell you," said Ausonius in a firmer, sterner tone than he had ever used. The opposition he now suspected irritated him, and he was determined to execute his will. "I will tell you that I have resolved to fulfil my former plan. I shall take you as my guest for an indefinite time. As my little daughter," he added cautiously, "with me to Burdigala."
"Never!" cried Bissula, raising both arms in the wildest terror.
"Yes, most certainly."
"But I will not go. I--away from the lake--from--from my people? No, no, no!"
"Yes, yes, yes! This is not tyrannical nor cruel, as you think now."
"Who will compel me to go away?"
"I. We compel children whom we are educating to do what we desire, for their own good. You do not understand your real welfare: I will force you to do so."
"But I am no child; I am--" She advanced toward him defiantly.