The Story of the Odyssey

ry good work), and bearing the superscription, "Gratianus C?sar Imperator Felicissimus." He was a soldier of middle age, whose jovial face did not show any sign of the fate which he profes

their Gallic neighbours in their dark hair and hazel eyes; there were swarthy Spaniards, fierce-looking men from the Eastern Adriatic, showing some signs of Greek parentage in their regular features and graceful figures; there were two or three who seemed to have an admixture of Asian or even African bloo

certainly not flattered by the rude coinage-with something like contempt. "Well, he does not look exactly as a C?sar should; but what does

"this was an Emperor worth fighting under. I made my first campaign with him against Maximus, another British C?s

hearing-"do you think we have made a change for the better from Marcus?4 He at all events used to be more liberal with h

s. Gratianus has to squeeze every denarius out of the citizens. I heard them say, when the money came into the camp yesterday, th

oft, and eat and drink the best of everything, while we poor soldiers,

who had spoken; "no more grumbling, or some of us wi

an enforced absence. Three or four of the number, however, who seemed, from a sign that passed between them, to have some secret understanding, remained in close c

is glorious recollection was proudly cherished in the camp, though more than three centuries had passed, changing as they went the aspect of the camp, till it looked at least as much like a town as a military post. The troops were housed in huts stoutly built of timber, which a visitor would have found comfortably furnished by a long succession of occupants. The quarters of the tribune and higher centurions were commodious dwellings of brick; and the headquarters of the legate, or commanding officer, with its handsome chambers, its baths, and tesselated pavements, might well have been a mansion at Rome. There was a street of regular shape, in which provisions, clothes, and even ornaments could [pg 6]be bought. Roman discipline, though somewhat relaxed, did not indeed permit the dealers to remain within the fortifications at night, but the shops were tenanted by day, and did a thriving business, not only with the soldiers, but with the Bri

ligion. The temple of Mars, which had stood near the headquarters, and where the legate had been [pg 7

in the camp, and the soldiers, flocking out from the mess-tents in which most of them wer

some of its richest citizens, he had probably got together more than any one else would have done in like circumstances. But all his persuasions and promises, even his offer of twenty per cent. interest, had not been able to extract from the Londinium burghers the full sum that was required; and the soldiers, who the day before would have loudly proclaimed that they would be thankful for the sm

elf safe in his seat. He might have appealed frankly to the soldiers-asked them what it was they complained of, and taken them frankly into his confidence; or he might have overawed them by an example of severity, fixing on some sin

nging a despatch from one of the outlying forts. One of those prodigious lies which seem always ready to start into existence when they are wanted for mischief at once ran like wild-fire through the camp. Gratianus was bringing together troops from other parts of the province, and was going to disarm and decimate the garrison of the Great Camp. The unfortunate messenger was seized before he could make his way to headquarters, seriously injured, and robbed of the despatch which he was carrying. Some of the centurions ventured to interfere and endeavour to put down the tumult. Two or th

ence and order by the sight of the Emperor as he stood on the platform in his Imperial pur

ere was a tremble in his voice which put fresh c

red a soldier in one of the back rows, embold

multitude. "Our pay! Our pay!" was

is moment one of the tribunes stepped forward and whispered in his ear. What he sa

ith confidence, with an air that [pg 11]gave it a meaning, he might have been saved, at least for a time. But his nerve, his

lders and was silent. He saw

turned as if to flee. The movement sealed his fate. A stone hurled from the back of the crowd struck him on the side of the face. Half stunned by the blow, he leaned against one of the attendants, and the blood could be seen pouring down his face, pale with te

s seized a smouldering torch, and, blowing it into flame, held it up while another exhibited the bleeding head, and cried, "The tyrant has his deserts!" But by this time the mad rage of the crowd had subsided. The horror of the deed had sobered them. Many began to remember little acts of kindness which

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