"Now," said he, "Geta, how could you be so foolish? You swore by all the saints that you had seen no trace of the enemy. Your cottages lie on the other side of the western forest. And now the barbarians lie hidden between you and the town! Were you blind and deaf?"
"Or did you wish to be so?" interposed Cornelius mistrustfully. "Consider," warned he, "they have every reason to support the barbarians; rough and passionate these may be, but they do not press the last marrow out of the bones of their bondmen, like the imperial fiscal."
But the elder of the two peasants answered: "No, sir, I am no traitor. I do not support the barbarians. Have I not served under the great Aëtius and received an honourable discharge and this little property? Believe an old legionary; and if you do not believe me, keep me here as a hostage till it is decided. Only yesterday I and my nephew were boiling pitch in the west forest--the traders from Ravenna give a high price for it. The whole forest is not five miles in breadth; if there had been many barbarians hiding themselves there, we must have seen them; it cannot be a migrating horde, an army of people; it can only be adventurers, a few horsemen who are reconnoitring to see how the country is protected."
"We will show them how it is protected," cried Severus, and he raised his right hand menacingly. "The veteran is right, Cornelius. I believe him. It is only that handful of riders over by the river that is capering towards us. We will drench them for their insolence. Himilco, back to the Tribune. I decline the help of his Moors--hearest thou? I decline it altogether; it is a case of honour, to show these robbers that the burghers of Juvavum alone are men enough to chastise them."
"I fully agree with you," said Cornelius. "It can only be a party of scouts."
"I shall, notwithstanding, be cautious, and make the attack with an overpowering force; this time I must conquer--on account of thy vow, my Cornelius."
He struck him on the shoulder with fatherly kindness, and descended the narrow flight of steps from the walls. Having reached the gate, he commanded the tuba-blower to hasten through all the quarters of the town, and summon the burghers to the Vindelician gate: in a quarter of an hour would the attack be made. Loud sounded the imperative tones in all parts of the town, and from every street the armed volunteers streamed forth to the north-western gate. One of the first was the fat Crispus, who came panting from his workshop hard by. He toiled along under an immense spear and shield. It was hot, and Crispus was old and corpulent. On his head, instead of a helmet, he carried a cooking utensil, in which, in peaceful times, the old Ancilla was accustomed to bake the--only too greasy--festival cakes! It was certainly now scoured quite bright, but it was somewhat too large, and at each step rattled about his ears. He did not present a very warlike appearance.
Severus observed him with a shake of the head. "Now the will is good"----
"And the flesh is not weak!" mocked Cornelius.
"But," continued Severus, "I would rather see thy slim nephew, the stone-mason. Why does he deny his arm to the Fatherland? Always with his young wife? Where is he?"