The youth's face flamed, his brow knit wrathfully. "Neither her kinsman nor her betrothed lover. I am commissioned--I have already said so--to ransom her. Name the price." Ausonius was about to utter a refusal, but Saturninus hastily anticipated him. "You would pay any price as ransom?" "Any." "Is she a princess or a noble's daughter, that your people set so high a value upon her liberty?" "She is a free maiden of our people, and has as much right to our protection as a queen." "Well, your protection has been of little service to her," cried Herculanus, laughing. "I will give her weight in silver, nay, if needful, in gold--her full weight." "Pshaw!" replied Ausonius, smiling, "that isn't saying much. The little one doesn't weigh heavily. Don't trouble yourself: I will not release her." "Pardon me, Prefect," said Saturninus quietly, yet without averting his eyes an instant from Adalo, "I must again remind you that the Barbarian girl is not your slave, but mine." "What? O ye gods!" cried Adalo, wild with grief and horror. He hastily advanced two paces toward the Roman. "Is it possible? Is it true? Say no, Ausonius." The voice of the usually defiant youth now sounded almost pleading. "Unfortunately it is true," replied the Prefect sullenly. But Saturninus, who now knew what he wished to learn, answered calmly: "The captive is my property. And she cannot be bought with gold. But I will release her, if you--" he rose, approached Adalo and whispered into his ear. The youth burst forth angrily: "The location of our fortification and the strength of our force? Come into the woods, Roman: you will learn there." Saturninus stepped back coldly. "As you choose. Never will the red-haired maiden see her people." "And consider, Barbarian," hissed Herculanus, "we need not use the rack to torture a maiden." Adalo, with a fierce cry, gripped the hilt of the short sword at his side. But he controlled himself and only cast a look at Herculanus, who, unable to endure it, blinked and turned his eyes away. Adalo, tortured by deep anguish, gazed inquiringly, searching into the characters and dispositions of the two men; first into Saturninus's stern, handsome face, then his glance scanned Ausonius's features, kindly in expression, but wholly lacking the impress of a firm will. He sighed heavily. But, conscious that the eyes of all were fixed intently upon him, he summoned his whole strength, and said quietly: "If any harm should befall her, her people will take terrible vengeance." The firmly repressed, yet intense fury in the brief words, did not fail to make an impression. Adalo, without any gesture of farewell, turned to leave the tent, and was already standing under the curtains at the entrance, when Saturninus cried: "And what name has the envoy of the Alemanni?" The youth turned quickly and, comprehending the whole group in a single glance, exclaimed: "Adalo, son of Adalger. You shall remember it." He passed outside the tent as he spoke.