The Sarmatian looked thoughtful. The question was evidently unexpected. "Not willingly--not cheaply--" he said hesitatingly, wishing to gain time for reflection. "I live by her tricks even more than by my own." "You are right, Rignomer," Brinno observed. "It's often very dull in camp when we're not on duty. She would amuse us." "And I'd like to startle the Romans, the proud legionaries who look down scornfully upon us auxiliaries, but always send us to the bloodiest posts in battle." "I suppose the creature came from these forests?" asked Brinno. The juggler nodded. "Aha," cried Rignomer, laughing, "then we must have her. We'll take her to little Bissula: the brown German to the red one." "Who is Bissula?" drawled the juggler. "The most charming girl I ever saw," cried Brinno quickly. "Yes! Every one who sees her is fond of her," Rignomer went on. "Especially we Germans!" "So are the Romans, I think; at any rate, most of them. But she often sits gazing so sadly toward the woods, as if longing for something. Her countrywoman will amuse her. I'll buy the animal from you." "No, no! I don't want to part with her. But,"---his eyes sparkled--"I'll tell you. Take me, the bear, and--" (he was going to say my boy, but as he no longer saw him lying beside the spring, nor in his former place, he checked himself) "into the camp for a few days, till you are tired of the toy." But both mercenaries shook their heads. "That won't do! You jugglers and animal tamers are regarded as professional spies." "The Tribune would have us flogged if we even let you pass through the gate of the camp." "Well," replied the bear-leader, "I won't sell her, but I'll leave the creature with you a few days; I'll soon come back for her." "Without pay? That's suspicious!" said Brinno. "Not without pay!" the other interposed quickly. "Not on any account! I earn my living by her. You must pay me." "Very well. But listen: is the beast perfectly tame?" "Perfectly. If she gets a little unruly, you need only buckle the broad collar here--do you see?--a little tighter." "I see." "Don't neglect to tell everybody who has anything to do with the animal," warned the Sarmatian. "Especially the little one," said Brinno. "It would be a pity to have a hair of her head harmed." "If only people do nothing to injure her, this clever countrywoman won't bite them." Steps echoed from the camp: Adalo was being escorted back. "Zizais, where are you? We must go!" called the Sarmatian, turning toward the bushes to search for the boy, who came limping slowly out of the thicket. The woollen blanket was now removed from the envoy's head; with a gloomy face he swung himself upon his horse, his two companions did the same, and all three soon vanished in the darkness of the forest.