A message was brought into the council-chamber that a merchant from Gaul had something of importance to communicate to the Emperor. The man was admitted, after having been first searched by way of precaution. His dress was sober in cut and colour, and he had a small pack such as the wandering dealers in jewellery and similar light articles were accustomed to carry. Otherwise he was little like a trader; indeed, it did not need a very acute or practised hand to detect in him a soldier’s bearing, and even that of one who was accustomed to command. “You have something to tell us?” said Julian. “Yes, I have,” said the stranger, “but let me first show you my credentials.” He spoke in passable Latin, but with a decided accent, which, strongly marked as it was, was not recognized by any of those present. At the same time he produced from a silken purse, which he wore like a girdle round his waist, a small square of parchment. It was a letter written in a minute but very clear hand, and it had evidently been put for the security of the bearer, who could thus more easily dispose of it in case of need, into the smallest possible compass. This was handed to Constantine, who, in turn, passed it on to his elder son Constans, he being the only one present who could read and write with fluency. It ran thus: “_Alaric, the son of Baltha, King of the Goths, Emperor of the World, to Marcus, Emperor of Britain and the West, greeting._” A grim smile passed over Constantine’s face as he heard this address. He muttered to himself, “‘Marcus,’ indeed! Those who write to the Emperor of Britain must have speedy letter-carriers.” The letter proceeded thus: “_I desire friendship and alliance with the nations who are wearied and worn out with the oppressions and cruelties of Rome, and for this purpose send this present by my __trusty kinsman and counsellor Atualphus, to you who are, I understand, asserting against the common tyrant of the world the liberty of Britain and the West. I have not thought it fit to trust more to writing, but commend to you the bearer hereof, the aforesaid Atualphus, who is acquainted with the mind and purpose of myself and of my people, and with whom you may conveniently concert such plans as may best serve our common welfare. Farewell. Given at my camp at Æmona._” “Marcus is no more,” said Julian. “He was unworthy of his dignity. You are in the presence of the most excellent Constantine, Emperor of Britain.” “It matters not,” said the Goth, with a haughty smile. “My lord the king will treat as willingly with one as with another, so he be an enemy of Rome!” “And what does he propose? What would he have us do?” “Make common cause with him against Honorius and Rome.” “What shall we gain thereby?” “Half of the Empire of the World.” “How shall that be?”