mystic figures, his chaplet of golden oak-leaves, and the headless spear, which was to him what the crozier was to a Christian bishop. CHAPTER XI. THE PRIEST’S DEMAND. “So the time has come at last,” said Ambiorix; “at last the yoke is broken from off the neck of Britain. Blessed be the day that saw the legions of the oppressor depart!” “Yes,” replied Martianus, “but will they not return? They have gone before; but have they not come back? I take it these Romans get too much out of us to let us go willingly.” “I have no fear of their return. If Honorius can make terms with this Constantine and his army, he will never send them back here; he wants them too much at home. He has got King Alaric to reckon with, and he has been long since drawing every soldier that he can from the provinces into Italy. No, depend upon it, at last Britain is free.” “Free; yes, if it has not forgotten how to move.” “We haven’t all learnt to play the slave,” said Ambiorix fiercely, as he started from his seat. “There are some who have not sold their birthright for the delights of the bath and the banquet, and who are too proud to ape the manners of their masters.” “Peace, my son,” interposed the aged priest; “Martianus is not the less able to help the cause of our country because he seems to be the friend of those who oppress it.” “These are but the wild words of youth, father,” said Martianus. “By a wise man they are forgotten as soon as they are heard. But let us hear what Ambiorix has to tell us about the force which we can bring into the field.” The young chief entered into details which it is impossible to reproduce. Preparations had been made over nearly the whole of Britain, though the more northerly parts, owing to the perpetual attacks of their neighbours the Picts, had little to contribute in the way of help. Ambiorix knew how many men could be relied upon in every district; he was acquainted with the disposition of the representatives of the chief British families; he knew what each would want for himself, to whom he would be prepared to yield precedence, from whom he would claim precedence for himself. All his views and calculations were those of a sanguine temper; but he certainly could show—on paper at least, as we should say—a very respectable amount of strength. When he had finished his account of the resources of Britain, Martianus, who, whatever his faults, had at least a genuine admiration for ability, held out his hand— “This is wonderful!” he said. “You have a true genius for rule. That you should keep the threads of so complicated a business all so distinct is simply wonderful. You certainly give me hopes that I never had before.” “I never doubted for a moment,” returned the young man, “but that when this Roman incubus was removed all would go well. Besides, who is there to attack us? We have no enemies.”