"Your leaders are good for nothing," cried Manlius; "Diocletian's centre might be broken by a general, resolute assault, for his weakest legions are stationed there, and then half his wing would be lost." "Make the necessary arrangements yourself," said Carinus. "Forward with the reserve, tribunes!" shouted Manlius. "The foreign legions must be sacrificed; let them be hewn down, and then on with the Triarians. Send against the Phrygian cavalry the German bands, who must hamstring the horses with their long swords. Let no one remain here. March forward with all your men. I alone can guard the Caesar." The result of these orders was an immediate change in the tide of battle. Diocletian perceived that a skilled commander, who knew the weaknesses of his army, was opposing him; he hastily gave the signal for retreat to save his force from destruction. Standing in the entrance of his tent Carinus watched the progress of the conflict. His troops were everywhere driving the enemy before them, his cavalry was pressing onward. The flush of triumph glowed upon his face, every feature was radiant with the pride of victory, his heart throbbed with joy. "I have conquered!" he exclaimed, wild with delight, clapping his hands. "But I, too, have conquered," said a bitter, terrible voice behind him, and the Caesar felt an iron hand seize his arm and drag him into the tent. Carinus, startled, glanced back and saw the gloomy face of Manlius, who was crushing his arm with one hand, and in the other held a drawn sword. "What do you want?" asked the Imperator in alarm. "Do you remember, Carinus, the girl who killed herself before your eyes to escape your embrace? That girl was my promised wife. Do you know what I want now?" "Manlius, you are jesting. What do you want of me? Why do you terrify me?" "I could have killed you often when, overpowered by drunkenness, you lay in a sound sleep, in the intoxication of your crimes, but I wished to await the moment when you were happy, when you had reached the summit of your renown, before I slew you." "Mercy! Help!" "No one can hear your call; the shouts of joy drown your whimpering. Do you hear the cries of triumph and the glorification of your name rising on all sides? Do you hear the universal cheer: 'Long live Carinus?'--Now, _die_, Carinus!" The next moment another horseman rode among the exulting troops; his right hand waved a lance from whose point gazed down the head of the conquering Imperator. The victorious troops surrendered to Diocletian. THE END.