"You are not mistaken. Two of the oxen were killed in the battle. The other two, though slightly wounded, are alive, and were bought by one of my companions, who also bought three children left in the chariot. Two of them, a little boy and a little girl of about eight or nine, still had the cord around their necks. But my companion who found them was luckily able to bring them back to life." "Where is that merchant?" I asked, in a tremble. "Here, at Vannes. You will see him to-morrow. We drew lots for our places at the auction, our stands are opposite to each other. If the children he is to sell are yours, you will be near them." "Shall I be really close?" "You will be as close to them as twice the length of your room. But why do you press your hands to your forehead?" "I don't know. It is a long time since I have drunk wine. The glow of what you poured out to me has gone to my head--a few seconds ago--I feel giddy." "That proves, friend Bull, that my wine is generous," answered the "horse-dealer" with a strange smile, and stepping out, he called to one of the keepers. Presently he returned with a chest under his arm. He carefully shut the door, and hung a piece of curtain before the window, to prevent anyone looking from without into the room, which was now lighted by a lamp. That done, he again passed his eyes very attentively over me, without saying a word, all the while opening his chest, from which he took several flasks, sponges, a little silver vase with a long curved tube, and also several instruments, one of which seemed very keen. I watched my master closely, feeling an inexplicable numbness gradually creeping over me. My heavy eye-lids fell once or twice in spite of myself. I had been seated on my bed of straw, to which I was still chained; but now I was compelled to lean my head against the wall, so heavy had it grown. Noticing the effect of the wine upon me, the "horse-dealer" said: "Friend Bull, do not be disturbed at what is happening to you." "What--" I answered, trying to shake off my stupor, "What is happening to me?" "You feel a sort of half-drowse creeping over you in spite of your resistance." "True." "You hear me, you see me, but as if your ears and eyes were covered with a veil." "It is true," I murmured, for my voice also was growing weak, and without experiencing any pain, my whole life seemed to be little by little ebbing out. Nevertheless, I made an effort, and said to the man: "Why am I in this condition!" "Because I have prepared you for the slaves' toilet." "A toilet?"