For some instants Artaban sustained the gaze of the Roman without speaking, and Julian again felt the fascination of those eyes, so intelligent, audacious, and servile. "If thou dost not believe me, let me die by thy hand," repeated the Persian. Julian relaxed his hold, and returned the poignard to its sheath. "It is terrible and pleasant to look thee in the eyes," continued Artaban. "Thy visage is that of a god! That, as yet no one knows; I alone know that thou art.... Do not repulse thy slave, sire." "We shall see," murmured Julian thoughtfully. "Long have I desired to fight your king, in the desert.... But the ships...." "Oh, yes, the ships!" murmured Artaban. "Thou must set out at once ... this night ... so that the inhabitants of Ctesiphon cannot see us.... Thou must burn them...." Julian did not answer. "Take them away," he said, pointing out the deserters to his legionaries. "Keep them under close watch!" And returning to his tent, he halted and raised his eyes-- "Is this true? So quickly and so simply! I feel that my will is the will of the gods. I have but to think, and it is accomplished." The joyfulness in his heart became intenser. Smiling, he pressed his hand on his breast to suppress its tumultuous beating. He still was conscious of shiverings, and his head felt leaden, as if he had passed the day in too fierce a sun. Ordering Victor, an old general blindly devoted to him, to come to his tent, he confided to him the golden ring bearing the Imperial seal. "To the commanders of the fleet, Constantius and Lucilian," Julian ordered laconically. "Before daybreak they must burn the ships, except the five largest freighted with bread, and the twelve smaller ones which serve as pontoon bridges. Burn all the rest. Anybody opposing this order will answer for it with his head. Keep the most absolute secrecy.... Go!" He gave him a piece of papyrus on which was written a curt order to the commander of the fleet. Victor, as usual, astonished at nothing, kissed the hem of the Imperial purple, and went out. Julian then, in spite of the late hour, convoked a council of war. The generals met in his tent, moody, suspicious, and secretly irritated. In a few words Julian explained his plan of going northwards to the centre of Persia, and then eastwards towards Ecbatana, to seize the king unawares. All revolted against the idea, raising their voices simultaneously, and not hiding the fact that Julian's plan seemed to them sheer madness. Fatigue, lack of confidence, and spite were expressed on the faces of the oldest and wisest soldiers. Several spoke curtly--all in opposition. Sallustius Secundus said, "Whither are we going? What more do we want? Think, Cæsar: we have conquered half Persia. Sapor offers better conditions of peace than ever Asian monarch before has offered to any Roman conqueror, even to the great Pompeius, Septimius Severus, or Trajan. Let us, then, conclude peace before it is too late, and win back to our own country!"