CHAPTER XXVII.
To Adalo's impatience the time seemed very long--in his wrath hebelieved the delay intentional--during which he was led through thespacious camp till at last his guide stopped and removed the mufflerfrom his head. He found himself in the Prefect's tent. Ausonius,Bissula's friend, he instantly recognized, with a thrill of anger. Anumber of other army leaders were standing and sitting around him. Theyhad had plenty of time to assemble while the Barbarian was being guidedin bewildering zigzag lines through the streets of tents.
He silently saluted Ausonius (it did not escape his eyes that his foelooked admiringly at him), who motioned to him to sit down on a campstool. But the youth, with a defiant bearing, remained standing. Invain, gazing around the richly decorated space, Adalo endeavored todiscover some trace, not of Bissula herself--that was beyond hishopes--but of some garment or article that belonged to her. Nothing wasto be seen except arms and papyrus rolls.
"You understand the language of Rome, since you have come without aninterpreter?" Ausonius began.
Adalo nodded.
"Be welcome! We expected such a messenger. You desire peace?"
The young hero angrily flung back his handsome head so that his longlocks rested on his shoulders, and answered with flashing eyes: "Ioffer to let you depart unmolested."
"Ha, insolent Barbarian!" cried Herculanus.
But Saturninus wrathfully motioned to him to keep silence, and thenasked very quietly: "Are we surrounded?"
"Not yet; but only because we did not desire it."
Saturninus cast a significant glance at the Prefect.
"Boasting!" replied the latter in Greek.
"And why haven't you destroyed us yet?" sneered Herculanus.
"The result, Roman, is in the hands of the gods. We have not attackedbecause we, who do not fear battle, but rather--you know well--love it,this time desire peace; or our wise leaders, who think further than mycomrades, desire it. The great league of the Alemanni wishes to endforever by a treaty not only this campaign but the whole war with you,which for generations has been burning or at least smouldering: we wishnot a truce, but peace with Rome."
"Is this your idea, youth?" asked Saturninus, searchingly.
"I have already said it is the choice of our wise leaders, among whom Iam not numbered. But I, too, perceive that intercourse with you acrossthe frontiers, when the spears are leaning in the hall, will bring toour people many benefits. We have already learned much from watchingyou; we must learn still more."
"But why," interposed Ausonius, "if you perceive this, have you forcenturies broken every armistice, every treaty? You Germans boast offidelity as one of the virtues of your race, and we must praise theloyal service of your mercenaries under our standards. Why, here on thefrontiers, are all your tribes of many names, Alemanni and Franks,Goths and Quadi and Marcomanni, the same in this unfaithfulness? Why,year after year, do you continually break peace and compact? Ourcohorts, constantly compelled to wade through your forest marshes,upbraid you with fierce hatred as the falsest of the peoples. Why doyou continually break over our frontiers, like a forest stream?"
"Like a forest stream! You have uttered the right words, thoughprobably without knowing it. I will not answer that often we are notthe breakers of the treaties, but, perhaps against the Emperor's will,your army leaders, your frontier officials. In defiance of the treatythey build citadels on our free land, and the supplies which, accordingto the treaties, you owe us, are withheld: especially the grain."
"Why," asked Saturninus eagerly, rising from his seat, "do you notraise for yourselves the grain you need?"
"We cannot. There is not land enough for our increasing population. Thegods multiply our numbers wonderfully: it must be their will that weshould grow and overflow our boundaries. Hundreds, nay, thousands ofour young men emigrate every year to serve you as mercenaries andfrontier guards. We often send forth a third of our young people,chosen by lot, to seek a new home where the flight of the birds and thewill of the gods directs them: but all this does not avail."
"Then," Saturninus questioned, speaking more to himself than to theenvoy, "it is not mere wantonness?"
"Do you think that mere wantonness would have driven, from the days ofour earliest ancestors (the legends have treasured it loyally, sadly,and proudly) our almost naked heroes upon the spears of your mailedlegions? Nay, had it been we youths only, we would always rather winwhat we need by blood--the foe's or our own--than by toiling with theplough. But do you believe that, from mere wantonness, whole nations,with their women and children, their men and maid-servants, their herdsand wagons, would constantly press across your frontiers southward andwestward; not as a warlike band on a foray in quest of booty, but on aweary pilgrimage, pressing forward because pressed by others, pushingbecause being pushed from the south and the east by other Germans andby Sarmatians; not quitting the old home, but maintaining it by thoseleft behind till they too were obliged to yield--do you believe thatmere wantonness has so often lured these hundreds of thousands to andbeyond your frontiers, usually to certain destruction? Oh, no. It isnot wantonness that impels us, but the most powerful of all thegoddesses--Necessity. A man utters her name unwillingly; for the womanwith the iron girdle is the only inexorable deity; she is the mother ofthe three Fates, who also revere her, and she often strangles with heriron girdle the mortals who mention her carelessly. Beware, Romans!Before our faces stands only your Empire, one mighty in military power,it is true, but behind us threatens and urges the terrible mother ofthe Norns. We have no choice. The country has become too narrow; wemust, come what may, pour out of the old bed in roaring torrents.Therefore, clever Roman, you speak aptly of a forest stream. Believeme: we shall continually break over your frontiers, no matter howstrongly they may be guarded with men and walls, until either all wecountless German tribes are destroyed or until we have gained landenough to live upon. Not until then will there be peace."