CHAPTER XI.
"You must and will survive me, my noble friend! The Tribune will soonlie where he belongs: on his shield. But you still belong to Burdigala,in your tasteful house filled with rare works of art (what hospitalityI enjoyed there the last time I was wounded!), or to Rome, in theSenate; not here, in the marshy forests of these Alemanni. Why (youalways liked to accompany the Emperor to Vindonissa)--why did you, aman of peace and of leisure, join this military campaign? It has noattraction for you! What have you to obtain on the Barbarian shores ofthis lake?"
"I? I am seeking for something here," replied Ausonius, after somelittle hesitation.
"Laurels of Mars to add to those of Apollo?"
"Not at all; only--a memory!"
Herculanus cast a sharp glance full of meaning at his uncle.
"Or, if you prefer it, a dream, the fulfilment of a dream. I believe indreams."
"Of course," said the Tribune, smiling, "like all poets! I care morefor waking thoughts."
"When I reached the army over yonder in Vindonissa, a lovely charmingmemory of a child rose vividly before me; a child equally bewitching inmind and person, whom I knew and loved here several years ago."
"A boy?"
"No, a girl."
"Ho, ho, pedagogue of the Emperor!" cried the Tribune, laughing.
Herculanus did not enter into the jest; he was silently watchingAusonius's every look.
"Oh, calm yourself! Bissula is a girl about twelve years old--thatis--she was in those days. She and a Sarmatian boy brought to Arborevery week the fish her uncle had caught on the northern shore of thelake. And how delightfully she talked! Even her Barbarian Latin soundedsweetly from her cherry-red lips. We became the best of friends. I gaveher--she would accept neither money nor costly jewels--triflingarticles, especially seeds of fine Gallic fruit and flowers fromGarumna for her little garden. She told me strange stories of the godsand fauns in the woods, the nymphs in the lakes and springs here in thecountry,--but she gave them different names,--and the mountain giantsopposite, whose white heads glittered in the sunset light. And I--I--"
"You read the 'Mosella' to her, of course!" laughed Saturninus.
"Certainly. And the little Barbarian girl showed a better appreciationof it than the great Roman general. It was not the fish that pleased_her_ best--"
"I can easily believe it: she had better ones herself, you said justnow."
"But the descriptions of the vineyards and villas along the river. Andwhen I told her that in my home on the Garumna were far, far handsomerand richer houses, full of marble, gold, bronze, and ivory, adornedwith brightly painted walls and mosaics; that I myself owned the mostbeautiful palaces and magnificent gardens full of leaping water,foreign stags and deer, and birds with sweet songs or brilliantplumage; when I spoke of the deep blue of the sky and the golden lightof the sun in the glorious land of Aquitania where almost perpetualsummer reigned, she could not hear enough in prose and verse of thesplendor of our country and the magnificence and art of our life. Onceshe clapped her little hands in surprise and delight, exclaiming: 'Oh,father, I should like to see that too. Just one day!' But I had grownso fond of the gay, sweet child that, with a thrill of joy at thethought, I answered: 'Come, my little daughter, not for a day--forever.If your guardian will consent, I will adopt you as my child and takeyou to Burdigala. How gladly my wife will welcome you! My daughterswill treat you as a dear sister. You shall become a Roman maiden!'
"But, like a frightened deer, she sprang from my lap, ran off, leapedinto her boat, rowed swiftly across the lake, and did not return formany days. I was full of anxiety lest I had driven her away forever. Atlast--it was a time of complete peace--I had myself rowed across thelake to its northern shore and guided to her hut in the forest. But shehad scarcely caught sight of me when, with a loud cry of terror, sheclimbed into a huge oak as nimbly as a woodpecker and hid herself amongthe branches. She would not come down again until I had solemnlypromised, in the presence of her uncle and her grandmother, not to takeher away and never even to say a word about it: 'For,' she said, withtears in her eyes, 'in that hot country I should die of homesicknessfor my own family, the neighbors, nay, even for the mountain, themeadow, and lake, like the forest flowers transplanted from the marshysoil into dry sand.'"
"A sensible child," remarked the Tribune thoughtfully, stroking hisbeautiful brown beard. "So she is pretty?"
"I think so!" cried Herculanus: the voice sounded almost savage.
"Why, nephew, you have never seen her."
"But you have described her to us often enough! I could paint her, withher bright red locks."
"And her name is Bissula?" Saturninus added.
"Yes, 'the little one,'" replied Ausonius, "for she is very slender anddelicate of limb. I then saw her regularly again, but kept my promisenot to ask her to go with me. When I bade her farewell, she wept with achild's loving tears. 'With you,' she said 'I part from a warm, bright,beautiful world, into which, as it were, I peeped, standing on tiptoe,over a curtain.'
"Recently, on reaching Vindonissa--during my journey through thecountry I had thought much of the charming child--I saw her before mein a dream the first night, encircled by a poisonous serpent. Her eyeswere raised to mine, imploring help, I woke with a cry, and my heartgrew heavy at the thought of what might befall the lovely girl--for shemust have become beautiful--if our cohorts bring all the horrors of warinto the forests along the shore of the lake. And I confess, it wasprincipally to see that child again--perhaps to protect her until thewar should be over--that I entreated the Emperor to permit me to jointhis expedition."