Sanders turned swiftly like a dog at bay; his lips upcurled in a snarl, his white, regular teeth showing. "Now," said Sanders, speaking very quickly, "let any man raise his spear, and he dies." Again they stood irresolute, and Sanders, over his shoulder, gave an order. For a moment only the people hesitated; then, as the soldiers gripped the poles of the god-box, with one fierce yell they sprang forward. A voice screamed something; and, as if by magic, the tumult ceased, and the crowd darted backward and outward, falling over one another in their frantic desire to escape. Sanders, his pistol still loaded, stood in open-mouthed astonishment at the stampede. Save for his men he was alone; and then he saw. Along the centre of the street two men were walking. They were clad alike in short crimson kilts that left their knees bare; great brass helmets topped their heads, and brass cuirasses covered their breasts. Sanders watched them as they came nearer, then: "If this is not fever, it is madness," he muttered, for what he saw were two Roman centurions, their heavy swords girt about their waists. He stood still, and they passed him, so close that he saw on the boss of one shield the rough-moulded letters:-- "AUGUSTUS CAE." "Fever" said Sanders emphatically, and followed the box to the ship. * * * * * When the steamer reached Lukati, Sanders was still in a condition of doubt, for his temperature was normal, and neither fever nor sun could be held accountable for the vision. Added to which, his men had seen the same thing. He found the reinforcements his pigeon had brought, but they were unnecessary now. "It beats me," he confessed to Carter, telling the story; "but we'll get out the stone; it might furnish an explanation. Centurions--bah!" The stone, exposed in the light of day, was of greyish granite, such as Sanders did not remember having seen before. "Here are the 'devil marks,'" he said, as he turned it over. "Possibly--whew!" No wonder he whistled, for closely set were a number of printed characters; and Carter, blowing the dust, saw-- "MARIUS ET AUGUSTUS CENT . . . . . . . . . NERO IMPERAT . . . . . IN DEUS . . . . . DULCE." That night, with great labour, Sanders, furbishing his rusty Latin, and filling in gaps, made a translation: "Marius and Augustus, Centurions of Nero, Csar and Emperor, Sleep sweetly with the gods." "We are they who came beyond the wild lands which Hanno, the Carthaginian, found . . . "Marcus Septimus went up into Egypt, and with him Decimus Superbus, but by the will of Csar, and the favour of the gods, we sailed to the black seas beyond. . . . . Here we lived, our ships suffering wreck, being worshipped by the barbarians, teaching them warlike practices. . . . "You who come after . . . bear greetings to Rome to Cato Hippocritus, who dwells by the gate . . ."