“But I am not a soldier—” Berenice
began passionately.
The general held up his hand suddenly. “Hush,
Berenice, not a word farther! I am a Roman general.
If you say one word that would clash with my duty
I should order you to your chamber and place a soldier
there on guard over you. Now I will leave you
with your husband;” and the general left the
room.
“What do you say, Pollio? Will you suffer
this man, who saved your wife, who risked his life
for your cousin, and is, as it seems, your cousin
by marriage, to be foully captured and crucified?”
“I am a soldier, Berenice; do not tempt me to
break my duty. You heard what your father said.”
Berenice stamped her foot. “Does your duty
go so far, Pollio, that like my father you would place
a guard at my door if I said aught that would seem
to run counter to your duty?”
“Not at all, Berenice,” he said with a
smile; “say aught you like. I hear as a
husband but not as a soldier.”
“Well, that is something,” Berenice said,
mollified. “Well, Pollio, if you will not
warn Beric of his danger I will do so. Have I
your permission to act as I choose?”
“My full permission, dear. Do as you like;
act as you choose; you have beforehand my approval.
If you fail and harm comes of it I will stand by you
and share your punishment; but tell me nothing of
what you would do beforehand. I trust you wholly,
but for my sake, if not for your own, be not rash.
Remember, if by any means it becomes known that you
aided Beric to escape, both our lives are surely forfeited.”
“Thank you, Pollio,” Berenice said, throwing
her arms round his neck, “that is spoken like
my husband. You shall know nothing, and I will
save Beric.”
Beric and Aemilia were sitting on the following day
in the shade in front of the house, where Porus had
erected a verandah of boughs to keep off the sun,
when they observed a female peasant and an elderly
man ascending the hill. They were still some distance
down, and the man spoke to one of the farm men who
was on his way down the hill.
“They are coming this way,” Aemilia said;
“they have passed the point where the paths
fork. She seems to find that basket she is carrying
heavy, and no wonder, for it is a steep climb under
the midday sun.”
Stopping once or twice to get breath the two peasants
approached.
“She is a good looking girl, Beric,” Aemilia
said.
“Our host has two or three nieces down in the
town,” Beric replied; “I expect it is
one of them. Yes, she is certainly pretty, and
not so browned and sunburnt as most of these peasant
girls are.”
As they came close the girl stopped and looked at
the house, and then, instead of going to the entrance,
left her companion and walked across to the verandah.
A smile came across her face.
“Shall I tell you your fortune?” she said
abruptly to Aemilia.
