Although cruelly decimated, still our army thrilled with the ardor of the fray as, massed along the bluffs of the river, it witnessed the enemy's disastrous rout, upon which the rays of the westering sun shed their parting light. At that sublime moment, the soldiers struck up in chorus the heroic chant of the bard to the words and melody of which they had stepped to battle in the morning: "This morning we say:-- 'How many are there of these barbarous hordes, Who thievishly aspire to rob us of land, Of homes, of wives, and of sunshine? Yea, how many are there of these Franks?' "This evening we'll say:-- 'Make answer, thou sod, red drenched In the blood of the stranger; Make answer, ye deep-rolling waves of the Rhine; Make answer, ye crows that flutter for carrion, Make answer--make answer! How many were they, These robbers of land, of homes, of wives and of sunshine? Aye, how many were there, Of these blood-thirsty, ravenous Franks?'" The last strophes of the refrain were falling from the lips of our soldiers when, from the other side of the river--which was so wide at that place that the opposite bank could hardly be distinguished, veiled moreover, as it was by the rising evening haze--I noticed a gleam that, rapidly gaining in brightness and extent, soon spanned the horizon like the reflection of a gigantic conflagration. Victorin immediately cried: "Our brave Marion has carried out his plans at the head of his picked men and the allied tribes on the other side of the Rhine. He marched with them upon the camp of the Franks. The last reserve force of the barbarians must have been cut to pieces, and their huts and wagons given over to the flames! By Hesus! Rid at last of the neighborhood of those savage marauders, Gaul will now enjoy the sweets of a friendly peace! Oh, my mother! Your prayers have been heard!" Victorin had just uttered these words with a face beaming with bliss, when I saw a considerable body of our soldiers belonging to different cavalry and infantry corps of the army marching slowly towards him. All of these soldiers were old men. Douarnek marched at their head. When the body had drawn near, Douarnek advanced alone a few steps and said in a grave and firm voice: "Listen, Victorin! Each legion of cavalry, each cohort of infantry, chose its oldest soldier. They are the comrades who accompany me yonder. Like myself, they have known you from the day of your birth; like myself they have seen you as a baby in the arms of Victoria, the Mother of the Camps, the august mother of the soldiers. We long have loved you out of love both for her and yourself. We acclaimed you our general and one of the two Chiefs of Gaul. We, veterans in war, have loved you as our son while we obeyed you as our father. And then came the day when, ever obeying you as our general and a Chief of Gaul, our love for you was less--"