Unnoticed and unrecognised by the people, Julian went into the prefecture. In the hall he saw Christian symbols--the cross, the fish, the good shepherd, etc. Christianity was certainly the State religion, but Julian’s hatred against everything Christian was so great that he could not look at these figures. Accordingly he went out again, called the Prefect down, and bade him show the way to the Imperial palace and the left side of the river. There he took up his abode in a simple room resembling a monk’s cell. As he had been obliged to make many detours since he had left Byzantium, and the punitive expedition against the Franks and Alemanni had consumed much time, he found letters waiting his arrival. Among them was one from the Emperor which seriously discomposed Julian. The attitude of the Emperor towards his cousin had always been somewhat dubious, almost hostile, and now, after the latter’s victories, envy and fear had taken possession of the mind of the Byzantine despot. The letter contained a command for Julian to send back the legions at once, as the war was at an end. Julian saw the danger if he stripped the newly recovered land bare of defence, but his sense of duty and conscientiousness bade him obey, and without hesitation he sent the Emperor’s edict to the camp. This was on the evening of the first day of his arrival. The next morning Julian had gone out for an excursion with his learned staff. They slowly climbed Mount Parnassus, and wandered through the oak wood on the north side, avoiding the beaten paths. He and his companions philosophised and disputed eagerly, and, forgetting their surroundings, wandered ever deeper into the forest. Finally they reached an open space where grazing deer had taken refuge, and set themselves down to rest on strangely-shaped stones which lay in a circle. In the oaks over their heads were large green clumps of a different colour from the oak-leaves, and these they thought were birds’ nests. “I have never seen so many crows’ nests together,” said Julian. “They are not crows’ nests, your Majesty,” answered the scribe Eleazar, who acted as Julian’s secretary. “That is the sacred mistletoe, which grows on the oak, and through the operation of cosmic forces takes this globular form, which is also said to be that of the earth and the other heavenly bodies.” “Is that...?” “Yes, and we seem to have entered a sacred sacrificial grove, in which the primeval deities of the land are still worshipped by the Druids, although their worship is forbidden.” “Forbidden in spite of the Emperor’s edict regarding religious freedom,” broke in the Sophist Priscus.