"Douarnek, the gods send a propitious opportunity to Victorin to prove to the army that, unworthy calumnies to the contrary notwithstanding, he is still worthy of his post." "You are right, Schanvoch," the Breton answered. "Let Victorin win this battle, as he won the others, and in the joy of their triumph the soldiers will acclaim their general and forget many a disagreeable thing. We shall meet again, Schanvoch!" Some Roman legions, our then allies, shared the enthusiasm of our own troops. As they passed under the eyes of Victoria their acclamations also greeted her. The whole army, the cavalry on the two wings, the infantry in the center, was soon gathered on the parade ground, a vast field that lay without the camp. It was bounded by the Rhine on one side, on the other by the slopes of a high hill. A wide road was seen at a distance. It wound its way and disappeared behind some woody slopes. The casques, the arms, the banners, all of which were surmounted by the Gallic cock wrought in gilt copper, glistened in the rays of the sun, and presented the bright and cheerful sight that does so much to raise the soldier's spirits. From the moment that she entered the parade ground Victoria put her horse to a gallop in order to join her son, who, surrounded by a group of chiefs to whom he was issuing orders, was conspicuous in the very center of the field. No sooner had the Mother of the Camps, whose brass helmet, black robe and white steed pointed her out to all eyes, appeared before the front ranks of the army, than one loud, vast, ringing cry from fifty thousand soldiers' breasts saluted Victoria the Great! "May that cry be heard of Hesus," my foster-sister said to the druid bard with deep emotion. "May the gods grant Gaul a new victory! Justice and right are on our side! We are not after conquest; we only defend our own soil, our hearths, our families, and our freedom!" "Our cause is holy among holy causes!" answered Rolla, the druid bard. "Hesus will render our arms invincible!" We rode up to Victorin. It seems to me I never saw him handsomer, or of a more martial bearing than on that morning, clad in his brilliant steel armor and with his casque, ornamented, like his mother's, by the Gallic cock and the expiring lark. Victoria herself, as she approached her son, could not keep from turning towards me and betraying her maternal pride with a look that, perhaps, only I understood. Several officers, the bearers of the young general's orders to the different army corps, left at a gallop in different directions. I drew near my foster-sister and said to her in a low voice: "You reproach your son with no longer displaying that cool bravery that must distinguish the general of an army. And yet, watch and see how cool and collected he is. Do you not read in his masculine face the wise and cautious cast of mind of the general who will not rashly risk his soldiers' lives, or the fate of his country?"