"This is a common booty!" cried several voices together.
"A beautiful girl! A noble lady! ha, ha! She will just suit the tattered Wallachians!" And with their foul and bloody hands, they seized the young girl by her fair slight arms.
"Ha! what is going on here?" thundered a voice from behind.
The Wallachians looked round.
A figure stood among them fully a head taller than all the rest.
He wore a brass helmet, in which a deep cleft was visible, and held
in his left hand a Roman sword. His features bore the ancient
Roman character.
"The Decurio!" they murmured, making way for him.
"What is going on here?" he repeated; and seizing the fainting girl in the arms of a Wallachian, he ordered him to lay her down.
"She is one of our enemies," replied the savage insolently.
"Silence, knave! Does one of the Roumin nation seek enemies in women? Lay her down instantly."
"Not so, leader," interrupted Lupey; "our laws entitle us to a division of the spoil. This girl is our booty; she belongs to us after the victory."