Helena entered the apartment at a most exciting moment. For there, facing her portly old father, whose clouded face bespoke his troubled mind, stood her trimly-built young cousin Carausius the admiral, bronzed with his long exposure to the sea-blasts, a handsome young viking, and, in the eyes of the hero-loving Helen, very much of a hero because of his acknowledged daring and his valorous deeds. Neither man seemed to have noticed the sudden entrance of the girl, so deep were they in talk. “I tell thee, uncle,” the hot-headed admiral was saying, “it is beyond longer bearing. This new emperor--this Diocletian--who is he to dare to dictate to a prince of Britain? A foot-soldier of Illyria, the son of slaves, and the client of three coward emperors; an assassin, so it hath been said, who from chief of the domestics, hath become by his own cunning Emperor of Rome, And now hath he dared to accuse me--me, a free Briton and a Roman citizen as well, a prince and the son of princes, with having taken bribes from these German pirates whom I have vanquished. He hath openly said that I, Carausius the admiral, have filled mine own coffers while neglecting the revenues of the state. I will not bear it. I am a better king than he, did I but have my own just rights, and even though he be Diocletian the Emperor, he needeth to think twice before he dare accuse a prince of Britain with bribe-taking and perjury.” “True enough, good nephew,” said King Coel, as the admiral strode up and down before him, angrily playing with the hilt of his short Roman sword, “true enough, and I too have little cause to love this low-born emperor. He hath taken from me both my players and my gold, when I can illy spare either from my comfort or my necessities. ‘T is a sad pass for Britain. But Rome is mistress now. What may we hope to do?” The Princess Helena sprang to her father’s side, her young face flushed, her small hand raised in emphasis. “Do!” cried she, and the look of defiance flamed on her fair young face. “Do! Is it thou, my father, thou, my cousin, princes of Britain both, that ask so weak a question? O that I were a man! What did that brave enemy of our house, Cassivellaunus, do? what Caractacus? what the brave queen Boadicea? When the Roman drove them to despair they raised the standard of revolt, sounded their battle cries, and showed the Roman that British freemen could fight to the death for their country and their home. And thus should we do, without fear or question, and see here again in Britain a victorious kingdom ruled once more by British kings.” “Nay, nay, my daughter,” said cautious King Coel, “your words are those of an unthinking girl. The power of Rome----” But the Prince Carausius, as the girl’s brave words rang out, gave her an admiring glance, and, crossing to where she stood, laid his hand approvingly upon her shoulder.