From the north-west, in the direction of Vindelicia, from which the approach of the barbarians was expected, the country people had come in, as usual, in numbers; they had observed nothing suspicious. But from the south-east hardly anyone came. It excited no remark, few villas and houses lay that way, and it was only seldom that a frequenter of the market came from thence. One might have considered the fright of the previous evening as a dream, only the dead horseman was a silent witness to its actuality. The first hours of the day passed away without any threatening indications; there was no enemy visible even in the far distance; the bridge over the Ivarus below the town (a second joined the two banks within the walls) was seen to be unoccupied. As the Tribune was still kept a prisoner in the Capitol by the accident to his knee, Severus ordered the Vindelician gate to be opened; he went with a company to the bridge, caused the end on the left, western bank to be barricaded with pieces of rock and timber, left there thirty spearmen and slingers, and then returned to the town quite satisfied that there was no trace of the enemy. But the old soldier did not relax his watchfulness; he ordered the gates to be kept closed and the towers garrisoned, and any occurrence was to be notified immediately to him in the Bath of Amphitrite, whither he now went, to wash away the cares of the night and the heat and dust of the march. After having fully enjoyed the bath, he sat comfortably on the soft woollen rug covering the marble seat, which formed a semicircle around the porphyry bath, rubbing now arms, and now legs, from the hip to the knee. This man of about fifty-five years was a model of healthy and vigorous strength; his limbs showed that the practice of the hunt and gymnastics had developed the power of his strongly-formed body. He now ceased his movements, and sank gradually into deep thought. His head fell deeper and deeper on his breast; at last he extended his right arm and began to draw figures in the clean white sand, which covered the space between the marble seat and the edge of the bath. "Must rank our men still deeper against the German wedge," murmured he to himself. "Ten men--twelve men deep. No, they don't waver yet. And yet--it must be just a question of arithmetic to defeat these Germans. It is only a problem of stroke and counter-stroke. Who may solve it? It would be best"---- "It would be best," broke in gently a melancholy voice, "that we lay in our last long sleep, where there is no longer either stroke or counterstroke." Severus turned; the white woollen curtain of the inner bath was moved aside; a handsome man in the strength of youth, and fully armed, stood behind it. "Thou, Cornelius! What meanest thou?" "Thou knowest my meaning. The best for man is not to have been born." "Shame on thee! thirty years old, and already so tired of life." "Shame on _thee_! Nearly sixty years, and still so foolishly fond of life."