"The excesses of my son have often saddened my heart, as they have the hearts of you all who have known him since his earliest days," said Victoria to the chiefs of the cohorts; "I hope you will forgive him as I do." Saying this she clasped her son passionately to her heart. "Infamous calumnies against Victorin have floated about the camp," the old captain proceeded to say. "We gave them no credence; but, less enlightened than ourselves, the soldier is ever hasty in censure as he is in praise. Follow the instructions of your august mother, Victorin, and no longer offer a handle to calumny. We shall wait for your orders on the parade ground; rely upon us, as we do upon you." "You speak to me like a father," answered Victorin deeply moved by the simple and dignified words of the old captain. "I shall hearken to your words as a son; your old experience guided me on the field of battle when I was still a child; your example made me the soldier that I am; to-day and always I shall strive to approve myself worthy of you and of my mother--worthy of Gaul--" "It is your duty, seeing that we glory in you and her," rejoined the old captain; and addressing Victoria: "Will the army not see you before we march to battle? To the soldiers and to us your presence always is a good omen--and your good words fire our courage." "I shall accompany my son as far as the parade ground--let the battle and triumph follow! Once the Roman eagles circled over our enslaved nation! The Gallic cock drove them away! And it will again drive away this cloud of birds of prey that seek to swoop down upon our Gaul!" cried the Mother of the Camps in so proud and superb a transport that, at the moment, I believed I saw before me the goddess of our land and of liberty. "By Hesus, shall the barbarous Franks conquer us? Before that happens neither a lance, nor a sword, nor a scythe, nor a club, nor a stone can have been left in Gaul! By Hesus! We shall triumph over the barbarian Franks!" At these brave words, the chiefs of the legions, sharing the enthusiasm of Victoria, spontaneously drew their swords, struck them against one another, and cried in chorus the war cry that they had more than once intoned: "By the iron of our swords, Victoria, we swear to you that Gaul shall remain free!--or you will never see us again!" "Yes, by your beloved and august name, Victoria, we shall fight to the last drop of our blood." And all left the room crying: "To arms, our legions!" "To arms, our cohorts!"