“My commission is made out by Flavius Honorius Augustus, and I know no other to whom I can yield obedience.” A pause followed this plain speech; the party on board with Constantine debated the situation with some heat, Julian maintaining that the Count must be brought to reason, the others being anxious to keep on good terms with him. “A single cohort can bring him to order,” cried the young Prince. “Can drive him out of the villa doubtless,” said the more prudent Constans, “but not bring us an inch nearer getting the ships.” “We may at least count on your friendship,” said Constans, Julian retiring sulkily from the negotiations; “you will not hinder the passage.” “I have nothing to do with the disposition of the legions,” answered the Count, “and, as I said before, have no instructions except to defend the shore against the Pirates.” “His Majesty will not be ungrateful,” said Constans. “I owe no duty but to Honorius, and desire no favour but from him,” was the Count’s reply, and the conference was at an end. The result was as favourable as Constantine could have expected. At least no opposition would be offered. Preparations for the passage were accordingly hurried on with all possible speed. All the towns along the coast were put under requisition for all the shipping that they could furnish, and, for the most part, were glad enough to answer the call. Whatever might happen in the future, it would be at least something to be rid of such troublesome neighbours. If other legions were to come, they might be more orderly and well-behaved. If these were to be the last, perhaps this would be a change for the better. Every one accordingly exerted himself to the utmost to supply the demand for transports.