"Artaban!... Artaban!... Woe be on us! Cæsar, he has deceived thee!" "Impossible!... And the slaves?" stammered the Emperor, overwhelmed. "Have just confessed under torture that Artaban was not a satrap, but a tax-collector of Ctesiphon. He invented this device to save the city, and lead you into the desert to deliver you to the Persians. He knew that you would burn the ships. They also said that Sapor was advancing at the head of a great army." The Emperor rushed to the river-bank to find Victor-- "Put out the fires!--quench them quickly as possible!" But his voice failed. Staring at the huge blaze Julian perceived that no human force could conquer the flames, which were augmented by a violent wind. He held his head in his hands, and although with no faith nor prayer in his heart, raised his eyes to heaven, as if there seeking succour. The stars were shining above, faint, almost invisible. The mutiny rolled on, becoming more and more menacing. "The Persians have burned the ships!" groaned some, stretching their arms toward the river. "No, no, it was the generals, to drag us still farther into the desert and leave us there," others cried incoherently. "Kill the priests!" yelled some. "The Etruscans have poisoned Cæsar, and sent him mad!" "Glory to Augustus Julian, the conqueror!" shouted the faithful Gauls and Celts. "Silence, traitors! so long as Cæsar breathes we have nothing to fear!" The cowardly were weeping-- "Our country! Our country! We won't go a step farther. We would sooner die. Ah, we shall sooner see our own ears, than see our own land again! We are lost, comrades! The Persians have us in a trap!" "Do you see clearly now?" said the exultant Galileans. "He is possessed of demons. Julian has sold his soul, and they're dragging him to the abyss. Are we going to let a demoniac lead us?" And nevertheless Julian, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, murmured as in a dream-- "What matters it? The miracle will be accomplished!" XVII It was the sixteenth of June, and the first bivouac on the night of the retreat. The army had refused to go farther. Neither prayers, commands, nor threats of the Emperor had brought them to reason. Celts, Romans, Pagans, Christians, brave men and cowards, all had answered in the same words-- "Let us go back to our own country!"