"However absorbed a lover may seem to be, he always overhears what is said of his sweetheart, my brave Marion," was Victorin's mirthful answer. "My sovereign mistress is war!" "Again that pest of profligacy!" Captain Marion whispered to me. "Alack! It pursues him even in his thoughts of battle!" "Marion," remarked Victorin, "we have on this side of the Rhine two hundred and ten barks of war propelled by six oars--have we?" "About that number, and well equipped!" "Fifty of them will suffice for you to transport the reinforcement of picked troops that you are to take to our allies. The remaining hundred and sixty, manned by ten soldier oarsmen provided with axes, besides twenty picked archers, will hold themselves ready to descend the Rhine as far as the promontory of Herfel, where they will wait for further instructions. Issue this order to the captain of the flotilla before you embark." "It shall be done--rely upon me!" "Carry out your plan, brave Marion, from point to point. Cut the Frankish reserve to pieces, burn their camp and wagons. Ours is the day if I succeed in forcing the barbarians to retreat," said Victorin. "And you will, Victorin! I shall run for my friend, Eustace, and carry out your orders." Before leaving the room Captain Marion drew his sword, presented the hilt to the Mother of the Camps and making the military salute, said: "Touch this sword with your hand if you please, Victoria--it will be a good augury for the day." "Go, brave and good Marion," answered the Mother of the Camps returning the weapon after she had clasped the hilt with a virile hand; "go, Hesus is with Gaul!" "Our battle cry shall be, 'Victoria!' and it will resound from one bank of the river to the other," Marion exclaimed with exaltation; and leaving precipitately he added: "I shall run for my friend Eustace, and then to our barks! to our barks!" As Marion was rushing out of the room, several chiefs of legions and cohorts, having learned of the landing of the Franks from the officer who brought the tidings to the camp--tidings that rapidly spread among the soldiers--hastened to Victorin in order to receive the orders of their general. "Place yourselves at the head of your detachments," he said to them, "and march to the parade ground. I shall join you there and assign you your posts in battle. I wish first to confer with my mother." "We well know your valor and military genius," answered the oldest of the chiefs of the cohorts, a robust old man with a white beard. "Your mother, the angel of Gaul, watches by your side; we shall await your orders confident of victory." "Mother," said the young general in touching accents, "your pardon, here before all, and a kiss from you will give me the needed courage for this day of bloody battle!"