On they ran through the streets of the camp, now perfectly dark except where fires were glimmering at the corners. Suddenly Bissula fell. The German dragged her up. "A tent rope! You must keep more in the middle. But you are limping! Did you hurt yourself?" "A little. Keep on." But she reeled; her feet refused to carry her. "Now it's lucky that I caught you," said the soldier, swinging her on his arm like a child. And Bissula, who usually so fiercely resisted every touch, willingly permitted it. "Throw your arms around my neck, little one! There. Now hold fast! It won't be long" ("unfortunately" he thought, but took good care not to say it), "we shall reach there directly." And he pressed on swiftly and sturdily with his light, beautiful burden. CHAPTER XLII. A slender bluish flame, burning in a marble vessel supported by a bronze pedestal of exquisite Corinthian workmanship, diffused both light and perfume through the Prefect's sumptuously furnished and richly decorated tent. Ausonius was lying on the low couch: before him stood the Tribune. Prosper, the old freedman, was pushing forward the citrus wood dining-table, which ran on rollers. Herculanus entered, greeted all present pleasantly and took his place on the second couch, opposite to Ausonius. "Where is Davus?" he asked the freedman impatiently. "I am thirsty!" "He ought to have been here long ago," replied Prosper. "He often wanders about needlessly, nobody knows where. You must have him put in the block again, patronus." "What," cried Ausonius laughing, "have you actually dragged the block here, you rigid slave-overseer, all the way from Vindonissa?" "Three fine ones, patronus. If you take bad slaves with you, I must take good blocks." Saturninus was about to go: "The business of the service is over for to-day, Prefect. Perhaps Nannienus may arrive with the galleys to-morrow. He sent a swift galley across the lake to-day: he will arrive very soon. Then, at last, we can begin our work without delay. But," he added in a kindly tone, advancing a step nearer to the lectus, "Will you permit me to utter a word of warning. Prefect Prætor of Gaul? Yesterday, and to-day still more, you complained of illness; chills followed by short attacks of fever: will you not remain here in the camp to-morrow (Bissula shall nurse you), instead of marching with us into the swampy forests? I fear you already have the marsh fever." Just at that moment Davus entered, bringing the beautiful mixing-vessel, filled, and several empty goblets. "Davus, you lazy hound!" shouted Herculanus. "Quick! I am thirsty! Wine!" But Saturninus, bending anxiously over the reclining figure, went on: "Acid old Cæcubian is said to be a good remedy for this fever. May I send you some from my store, Prefect?"