"'Sister,' he said, Pompeia replied, 'our father's grave is a witness that any army, if misunderstood and mismanaged, may mutiny, however causelessly and unexpectedly, and that when they have once transgressed discipline the men may go to any length. But I never fail to understand and to manage my men.' That is what he said, then what could I say?"
"Obviously nothing," Mucia agreed, "and more than likely he is quite right and would foresee any such danger as you imagine long before you or any one else could hear of it."
At that moment they became aware of the sound of many feet approaching, not the footsteps of casual passers-by, not the tramp of soldiers in rank, but the noise of men walking together. The two women ceased to look at each other and faced the entrance of the pavilion.
II
The two sentinels wheeled stiffly to face each other, presented arms and stood at the salute. Between them a tall, well-knit man strode springily into the tent.
Mucia gave a little cry, ran to him and threw her arms about his neck. He started in surprise and then caught her to him. She fairly hung
