The friendly feeling between the two Roman Generals had become strained, and Bissula's ingenuousness toward both was transformed into fear and distrust. The two friends, once so intimately associated, avoided each other and confined their intercourse and conversation solely to matters absolutely required by the service. At the same time the prisoner, now suspiciously watchful, perceived in Ausonius a resentful bitterness toward the Tribune, very alien to his usual good-nature. The latter, on the other hand, evidently was not angry; even in his cool reserve he seemed to spare his older friend, nay, to treat him with a sort of compassion. The little maid herself was very unhappy. Her careless unconsciousness was completely destroyed, and she did not know which of the two men whose friendship seemed to be broken, if not by her, on her account, she ought to avoid with the greater fear. This feeling grieved the kind-hearted girl. She was also burdened by anxiety about the future, by dread of the unknown, by rebelliousness--when she was powerless and fully aware of it--against the restraint imposed by the will of strangers upon her obstinacy, all threatening her immediately. For, however the two Romans differed in everything else concerning the prisoner, they seemed to unite in one thing: Bissula should never again be free, never return to the forest hut by the lake, to the familiar scenes of the neighborhood. At these thoughts tears filled the eyes once so saucy or so proud. How sadly she admitted to herself that her own folly and defiance were the sole causes which had brought all this misfortune upon her! How kind, how prudent, how loyal Adalo's advice had been! Yet these tears, burning, bitter tears of remorse, nay, yearning, were a relief. Even now, in the trouble for which she alone was to blame, he had not abandoned her! The first greeting that reached her from her people had come from him; he had sent the young brother whom he loved so fondly, and whom therefore she loved for his sake, and Bruna too, her old playfellow. She had dissembled craftily before the soldiers, and wondered loudly at the animal's "friendliness." But, as soon as she was alone in her tent with the faithful beast, she clasped the huge head tenderly with both white arms, kissed the broad forehead and lovingly patted the neck of the bear, who growled affectionately in reply. Then she slipped her hand through the collar, felt a depression in it, drew it up from the shaggy skin to the light of the Roman lamp, perceived characters scrawled on it, and read: "Through the gate to the lake."