---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Done, Willard
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 7
number: 3
published: 1904-01
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Willard Done, "The Celtic Maiden: A Story of Ancient Britain," *Improvement Era* 7, no. 3 (January 1904): 168–173.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0703unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera0703unse
start_page: 168
end_page: 173
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1904-01)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0703unse
  publication_year: 1904
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1904, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# The Celtic Maiden: A Story of Ancient Britain

<!-- page:168 -->

THE   
        CELTIC  
        MAIDEN.
A   
        STORY   
        OF    
        ANCIENT    
        BRITAIN.
BY  
        PROFESSOR  
        WILLARD 
        DONE.
CHAPTER 
        I.
The 
        seven 
        hills 
        of 
        Rome 
        lay 
        under 
        the 
        splendor 
        of 
        the 
        noon-
R^ay 
        sun; 
        glinting 
        and 
        glistening 
        on 
        dome 
        and 
        tower, 
        the 
        shimmer-
ing light 
        brought 
        every 
        object 
        into 
        clear 
        perspective. 
        Pillars
.and 
        porticoes, 
        statues 
        and 
        fountains, 
        tombs 
        and 
        obelisks, 
        temples
•and 
        palaces 
        lay 
        under 
        the 
        brightening 
        spell 
        of 
        waves 
        of 
        light 
        and
iieat. 
        The 
        sluggish 
        Tiber 
        flowing 
        to 
        the 
        south 
        and 
        west, 
        the
.groups 
        of 
        men 
        and 
        women 
        hurrying 
        to 
        and 
        fro, 
        the 
        herds 
        of 
        cat-
tle driven 
        to 
        the 
        sacrificial 
        shambles, 
        even 
        the 
        birds 
        that 
        flew 
        in
■quarries 
        over 
        the 
        house-tops, 
        partook 
        of 
        the 
        brightening, 
        glisten-
ing glory 
        of 
        the 
        sunlight. 
        In 
        the 
        street 
        lay 
        alternate 
        patches 
        of
light 
        and 
        shade, 
        changing 
        in 
        kaleidoscopic 
        variety 
        of 
        form, 
        as 
        the
■crowds 
        moved 
        hither 
        and 
        thither, 
        in 
        streams 
        or 
        scattered 
        groups.
"The 
        light 
        of 
        the 
        streets, 
        the 
        light 
        on 
        the 
        buildings, 
        the 
        light 
        on
Ihe 
        glimmering 
        water, 
        the 
        light 
        on 
        the 
        human 
        faces, 
        seemed 
        the
■^element 
        of 
        vivacity 
        and 
        vigor 
        which 
        animated 
        the 
        scene, 
        relieving
at©f 
        allsombreness.
The 
        hour 
        of 
        the 
        midday 
        siesta 
        was 
        approaching. 
        Workmen
;and 
        fashionable 
        loungers
        —
        men 
        of 
        labor 
        and 
        men 
        of 
        leisure
        —
isought 
        with 
        equal 
        eagerness 
        the 
        grateful 
        but 
        enervating 
        rest.
Laughing 
        and 
        chatting 
        gaily, 
        as 
        if 
        life 
        had 
        neither 
        sorrow 
        nor 
        re-
sponsibility, two 
        young 
        patricians 
        walked 
        arm 
        in 
        arm 
        toward 
        a
fashionable 
        lounging-place, 
        where 
        others 
        like 
        themselves 
        were 
        al-
ready gathering 
        to  
        sip 
        costly 
        wine 
        and 
        eat 
        rare 
        fruits.    
        Here,

<!-- page:169 -->

THE 
        CELTIC 
        MAIDEN. 
        169
apart 
        from 
        the 
        common 
        crowd 
        which 
        assembled 
        in 
        plebeian 
        places,
they 
        could 
        drowse 
        or 
        chat 
        at 
        leisure 
        under 
        the 
        dreamy 
        influence 
        of
lute 
        or 
        lyre.
"What 
        games 
        today, 
        my 
        Claudius?" 
        said 
        one, 
        involuntarily
drawing 
        his 
        toga 
        more 
        closely 
        about 
        him, 
        to 
        escape 
        contact 
        with 
        a
passing 
        laborer.
'*A 
        combat 
        between 
        Valerius 
        and 
        Plotinus
        —
        a 
        fight 
        to 
        the
death," 
        answered 
        the 
        other 
        carelessly. 
        "I 
        have 
        ten 
        sesterce 
        on
Valerius.    
        Pray 
        Jupiter 
        he 
        be 
        not 
        slain."
"Fervent 
        prayers!" 
        laughed 
        Decius, 
        "but 
        better 
        addressed 
        to
Mercury 
        than 
        to 
        Jupiter. 
        The 
        god 
        of 
        trade, 
        my 
        Claudius, 
        were
best 
        appealed 
        to."
"The 
        blood 
        and 
        brawn 
        of 
        slaves 
        are 
        fit 
        commodities 
        of 
        trade,"
replied 
        Claudius, 
        with 
        an 
        answering 
        laugh. 
        "They 
        should 
        all 
        be
dedicated 
        to 
        Mercury, 
        for 
        they 
        are 
        the 
        source 
        of 
        wealth 
        of 
        such
as 
        you 
        and 
        I."
"What 
        of 
        the 
        beasts 
        that 
        help 
        the 
        slaves 
        entertain 
        us?"
"Of 
        equal 
        soul 
        and 
        equal 
        sense," 
        Claudius 
        answered 
        flippantly,
and 
        the 
        two 
        disappeared 
        within 
        the 
        massive 
        archways.
As 
        the 
        afternoon 
        came 
        on, 
        the 
        Roman 
        forum 
        again 
        became
populous 
        and 
        animated. 
        Pulsating 
        with 
        life, 
        and 
        crowded 
        by 
        those
who 
        a 
        few 
        hours 
        before 
        were 
        dozing 
        beneath 
        the 
        influence 
        of 
        song
and 
        wine, 
        it 
        seemed 
        the 
        heart 
        of 
        the 
        city. 
        But 
        apart 
        from 
        the
vivacious 
        throng 
        was 
        a 
        secluded 
        portion 
        of 
        the 
        forum. 
        There, 
        in
uncertainty 
        and 
        misery, 
        were 
        the 
        slaves, 
        brought 
        from 
        distant
provinces 
        for 
        sale 
        in 
        the 
        Roman 
        market. 
        The 
        world-v\'ide 
        nature
of 
        the 
        Roman 
        conquest 
        was 
        well 
        illustrated 
        in 
        this 
        group. 
        All
nationalities 
        were 
        there
        —
        the 
        dark 
        African, 
        the 
        swarthy 
        Asiatic,
the 
        fair 
        European. 
        Of 
        all 
        grades 
        of 
        appearance 
        and 
        intellect
were 
        they, 
        from 
        the 
        lovz-browed, 
        muscular 
        rufiian, 
        to 
        the 
        man 
        of
keen 
        intellect 
        and 
        sensitive 
        soul. 
        But 
        to 
        their 
        captors 
        and 
        pur-
chasers, their 
        value 
        depended 
        not 
        upon 
        soul 
        or 
        sense, 
        but 
        upon
muscular 
        strength 
        or 
        activity. 
        The 
        strong 
        arm, 
        the 
        fleet 
        limb, 
        the
v^'ell 
        proportioned 
        body, 
        counted 
        for 
        everything
        —
        feeling 
        and 
        soul,
for 
        nothing.
Standing 
        apart 
        from 
        the 
        rest, 
        and 
        separated 
        from 
        them 
        as
much 
        by 
        looks 
        as 
        by 
        distance, 
        was 
        a 
        group 
        that 
        would 
        attract 
        im-
mediate attention.     
        There 
        were 
        tv/o 
        women 
        and 
        one 
        boy, 
        appar-

<!-- page:170 -->

170 
        IMPROVEMENT 
        ERA.
ently 
        mother, 
        daughter, 
        and 
        son. 
        Eyes 
        of 
        bright 
        azure, 
        hair 
        of
gold, 
        and 
        skin 
        of 
        mingled 
        whiteness 
        and 
        ruddiness 
        gave 
        them 
        al-
most an 
        ethereal 
        beauty, 
        while 
        their 
        supple, 
        graceful 
        figures 
        were
good 
        to 
        look 
        upon.
But 
        their 
        faces 
        betrayed 
        intense 
        anxiety. 
        As 
        the 
        mother
gazed 
        on 
        her 
        son 
        and 
        daughter, 
        bitter, 
        anxious 
        thoughts 
        surged
through 
        her 
        mind. 
        Not 
        in 
        vain 
        had 
        the 
        knowledge 
        come 
        to 
        her 
        of
the 
        treatment 
        received 
        by 
        alien 
        slaves 
        from 
        Roman 
        masters. 
        She
knew 
        that 
        their 
        lives 
        were 
        regarded 
        as 
        of 
        no 
        more 
        value 
        than 
        the
lives 
        of 
        beasts
        —
        their 
        flesh 
        fit 
        for 
        the 
        same 
        use, 
        their 
        virtue 
        not 
        to
be 
        considered.
As 
        the 
        throngs 
        passed 
        through 
        the 
        market, 
        all 
        eyes 
        were 
        in-
voluntarily turned 
        in 
        admiration 
        upon 
        the 
        little 
        group. 
        Comments,
some 
        philanthropic, 
        some 
        m.ercenary, 
        but 
        in 
        all 
        cases 
        compli-
mentary, were 
        passed 
        upon 
        their 
        fair-haired 
        beauty. 
        At 
        length, 
        a
Roman 
        approached 
        the 
        group. 
        As 
        he 
        stood 
        gazing 
        in 
        sincere 
        ad-
miration, he 
        asked 
        the 
        keeper, 
        "Of 
        what 
        race 
        are 
        these?"
''Celts, 
        from 
        the 
        distant 
        island 
        of 
        Britain," 
        was 
        the 
        answer.
"By 
        Jupiter, 
        a 
        beauty 
        of 
        beauties!" 
        exclaimed 
        the 
        handsome
young 
        Claudius, 
        gazing 
        with 
        astonished 
        admiration 
        on 
        the 
        girl. 
        He
and 
        Decius 
        had 
        come 
        thither 
        out 
        of 
        idle 
        curiosity 
        during 
        a 
        leisurely
walk 
        through 
        the 
        forum.
The 
        slave 
        maiden 
        tried 
        in 
        vain   
        to 
        escape 
        the 
        searching 
        look.
"Come, 
        Claudius," 
        said 
        Decius. 
        "Are 
        there 
        not 
        enough
maidens 
        and 
        matrons 
        of 
        patrician 
        rank 
        to 
        share 
        your 
        favors?
Must 
        you 
        lavish 
        them 
        on 
        a 
        senseless 
        chattel
        —
        an 
        alien 
        and 
        a 
        slave?
Fie, 
        Claudius!    
        Remember 
        your 
        rank."
With 
        an 
        impatient 
        gesture, 
        Claudius 
        turned 
        from 
        him 
        and
again 
        directed 
        his 
        gaze 
        upon 
        the 
        girl. 
        Had 
        a 
        basilisk's 
        eyes 
        been
upon 
        her, 
        she 
        could 
        not 
        have 
        made 
        more 
        strenuous 
        efforts 
        to 
        avoid
them. 
        Trembling, 
        she 
        sought 
        to 
        hide 
        herself 
        behind 
        her 
        mother;
while 
        her 
        brother, 
        noting 
        her 
        embarrassment, 
        clenched 
        his 
        fists
and 
        glared 
        defiantly 
        at 
        the 
        unwelcome 
        visitor.
At 
        length 
        Claudius 
        turned 
        to 
        the 
        keeper, 
        "Her 
        price?" 
        he
asked.
If 
        he 
        had 
        intended 
        to 
        drive 
        a 
        shrewd 
        bargain, 
        his 
        show 
        of 
        ad-
miration had 
        already 
        defeated 
        his 
        purpose. 
        The 
        keeper 
        felt 
        justi-
fied in 
        naming 
        an 
        exorbitant 
        sum.     
        It 
        was 
        promptly 
        paid.     
        Then

<!-- page:171 -->

THE 
        CELTIC 
        MAIDEN. 
        171
the 
        purchaser 
        turned 
        to 
        the 
        girl 
        and 
        made 
        her 
        understand 
        that 
        she
was 
        his 
        property, 
        and 
        must 
        go 
        with 
        him. 
        Her 
        terror 
        was 
        pitiable.
She 
        threw 
        her 
        arms 
        about 
        her 
        mother 
        and 
        sobbed 
        in 
        agony. 
        She
turned 
        appealing 
        eyes 
        on 
        her 
        brother, 
        but 
        his 
        chains 
        rendered 
        him
powerless 
        to 
        help 
        her. 
        At 
        last 
        she 
        fell 
        on 
        her 
        knees 
        and 
        pleaded
with 
        the 
        keeper 
        for 
        protection. 
        But, 
        accustomed 
        to 
        such 
        appeals,
and 
        trained 
        to 
        disregard 
        them, 
        he 
        roughly 
        bade 
        her 
        prepare 
        to 
        fol-
low her 
        new 
        owner.
Darkness 
        settled 
        down 
        upon 
        the 
        forum^
        —
        and 
        dense 
        darkness
of 
        despair 
        on 
        the 
        hearts 
        of 
        mother 
        and 
        brother, 
        as 
        they 
        bewailed
the 
        dear 
        one 
        \n\io 
        had 
        been 
        dragged 
        away 
        to 
        a 
        fate, 
        the 
        very 
        un-
certainty of 
        which 
        rendered 
        it 
        all 
        the 
        more 
        terrible.
CHAPTER 
        n.
Five 
        years 
        had 
        passed, 
        and 
        mighty 
        changes 
        had 
        been 
        wrought.
The 
        principles 
        of 
        Christianity 
        were 
        being 
        preached 
        in 
        the 
        island 
        of
Britain, 
        in 
        their 
        primitive 
        purity 
        and 
        simplicity, 
        and 
        the 
        hearts 
        of
some 
        had 
        been 
        touched 
        with 
        the 
        beauty 
        and 
        dignity 
        of 
        the 
        mes-
sage. And 
        yet 
        the 
        land 
        as 
        a 
        whole 
        lay 
        in 
        darkness, 
        and 
        the 
        fac-
tions still 
        carried 
        on 
        ceaseless 
        warfare. 
        The 
        Picts 
        and 
        Scots 
        and
Britains 
        were 
        struggling 
        for 
        supremacy, 
        and 
        the 
        Romans 
        were
striving 
        to 
        pacify 
        the 
        land 
        in 
        their 
        usual 
        way
        —
        by 
        bringing 
        all 
        fac-
tions under 
        the 
        absolute 
        sway 
        of 
        Rome. 
        Yet 
        even 
        in 
        the 
        Roman
camp, 
        the 
        ministrations 
        of 
        the 
        Christian 
        missionaries 
        had 
        worked
wonders, 
        in 
        the 
        softening 
        of 
        the 
        tone 
        of 
        warfare, 
        and 
        the 
        raising
of 
        the 
        standard 
        of 
        morality 
        and 
        humanity.
The 
        summer 
        campaign 
        of 
        the 
        Roman 
        army 
        in 
        Britain 
        was
ended, 
        and 
        such 
        officers 
        and 
        men 
        as 
        were 
        not 
        needed 
        to 
        garrison
the 
        .outposts, 
        had 
        gathered 
        in 
        semi-military 
        winter 
        quarters.
Evening 
        had 
        fallen 
        on 
        the 
        town. 
        The 
        mists 
        which 
        had 
        been 
        hover-
ing over 
        the 
        landscape 
        during 
        the 
        day, 
        were 
        giving 
        way 
        to 
        the
frosty 
        brightness 
        of 
        a 
        moon-lit 
        night.
The 
        rules 
        of 
        military 
        discipline 
        were 
        relaxed, 
        and 
        the 
        boister-
ous sounds 
        of 
        carousal 
        arose 
        from 
        tents 
        and 
        houses. 
        Occa-
sionally the 
        louder 
        din 
        of 
        a 
        quarrel 
        or 
        an 
        encounter 
        of 
        arms 
        was
heard, 
        rising 
        into 
        clamor, 
        and 
        then 
        sinking 
        into 
        comparative 
        still-
ness.    In 
        one 
        of 
        the 
        houses, 
        wine 
        was 
        flowing 
        freely.     
        Officers

<!-- page:172 -->

172 
        IMPROVEMENT 
        ERA.
were 
        reclining 
        at 
        a 
        repast, 
        rich 
        in 
        delicacies, 
        and 
        betokening 
        none
of 
        the 
        hardhips 
        of 
        foreign 
        war. 
        They 
        were 
        evidently 
        young
patricians, 
        whom 
        love 
        of 
        glory 
        and 
        booty 
        had 
        attracted 
        to 
        the
conquest 
        of 
        the 
        battle-torn 
        island.
In 
        the 
        midst 
        of 
        their 
        festivities, 
        they 
        sang 
        ribald 
        songs, 
        and
uttered 
        mirthless 
        witticisms, 
        giving 
        way 
        to 
        the 
        spirit 
        of 
        wild, 
        law-
less carousal. 
        Suddenly 
        a 
        quarrel 
        arose, 
        one 
        of 
        those 
        contentions
which, 
        arising 
        from 
        nothing, 
        lead 
        to 
        much.
"I 
        say 
        it 
        was 
        ten!" 
        shouted 
        one, 
        pointing 
        to 
        the 
        dice 
        before
him.
"It 
        was 
        only 
        eight," 
        answered 
        the 
        other, 
        in 
        a 
        calm 
        voice.
"The 
        wine 
        has 
        muddled 
        your 
        brain, 
        Decius. 
        You 
        will 
        count 
        better
when 
        you 
        are 
        sober."
Decius 
        sprang 
        to 
        his 
        feet. 
        "I 
        can 
        count," 
        he 
        cried 
        excitedly,
"the 
        love 
        affairs 
        of 
        one 
        Claudius, 
        of 
        the 
        imperator's 
        guard; 
        and
their 
        number 
        rises 
        far 
        above 
        eight 
        or 
        ten."
The 
        taunt 
        had 
        its 
        effect. 
        In 
        his 
        rage, 
        Claudius 
        strode 
        toward
Decius, 
        while 
        the 
        other 
        officers, 
        in 
        alarm, 
        stepped 
        between 
        them.
"Lose 
        not 
        your 
        discretion, 
        Decius," 
        he 
        said 
        when 
        he 
        had 
        obtained
some 
        mastery 
        over 
        himself. 
        "Remember 
        what 
        I 
        am, 
        and 
        how
anger 
        changes 
        me."
But 
        discretion 
        had 
        been 
        scattered 
        to 
        the 
        winds. 
        "I 
        do 
        re-
member what 
        you 
        are," 
        shouted 
        Decius. 
        "You 
        are 
        Claudius, 
        the
erstwhile 
        lover 
        of 
        the 
        cast-off 
        Julia; 
        the 
        devoted 
        slave 
        of 
        the
rich, 
        unscrupulous 
        Fulvia; 
        the 
        factotum 
        of 
        the 
        patrician 
        Cor-
nelia—
        ."
"Hush!" 
        thundered 
        Claudius, 
        vainly 
        attempting 
        to 
        rush 
        at 
        his
accuser.
Tantalizingly 
        calm, 
        with 
        the 
        advantage 
        he 
        had 
        gained, 
        Decius
went 
        on: 
        "The 
        betrayer 
        of 
        the 
        unfortunate 
        Marcia; 
        and"
        —
        here
his 
        voice 
        expressed 
        the 
        most 
        exquisite 
        scorn 
        and 
        mockery,
        —
        "at
once 
        the 
        master 
        and 
        the 
        slave 
        of 
        the 
        beautiful 
        British 
        maiden,
whom 
        you 
        have 
        trained 
        to 
        your 
        taste, 
        like 
        a 
        pheasant 
        fattened 
        for
an 
        epicure's 
        table."
"Who 
        assails 
        her 
        name 
        proclaims 
        himself 
        liar 
        and 
        coward!"
thundered 
        the 
        thoroughly 
        enraged 
        Claudius; 
        and 
        only 
        the 
        strongest
efforts 
        of 
        the 
        peace-makers 
        prevented 
        him 
        from 
        executing 
        sum-
mary vengeance 
        on 
        his 
        tantalizing 
        persecutor.    
        Again 
        the 
        mocking

<!-- page:173 -->

THE 
        CELTIC 
        MAIDEN. 
        173
voice 
        arose. 
        "To 
        slander 
        a 
        slave, 
        my 
        dear 
        Claudius, 
        is 
        beyond 
        my
power. 
        That 
        which 
        has 
        neither 
        soul 
        nor 
        sense 
        cannot 
        be 
        slan-
dered. 'Of 
        equal 
        soul 
        and 
        equal 
        sense 
        with 
        the 
        beasts,'
        —
        your 
        own
words, 
        my 
        Claudius."
"Ye 
        furies!" 
        shouted 
        the 
        maddened 
        man; 
        and 
        by 
        a 
        supreme
effort 
        he 
        broke 
        through 
        the 
        line 
        of 
        guards 
        and 
        seized 
        Decius 
        by
the 
        throat. 
        "Die, 
        villain 
        and 
        slanderer!" 
        he 
        shouted, 
        bearing 
        his
victim 
        to 
        the 
        floor. 
        He 
        would 
        have 
        made 
        short 
        shrift 
        of 
        Decius
had 
        not 
        the 
        other 
        officers 
        dragged 
        him 
        away. 
        "Remember," 
        he
exclaimed 
        as 
        the 
        discomfited 
        Decius 
        arose, 
        "that 
        you 
        will 
        answer
to 
        me 
        for 
        your 
        words 
        alone, 
        and 
        face 
        to 
        face, 
        or 
        I 
        will 
        brand 
        you
coward, 
        as 
        well 
        as 
        slanderer."
"When, 
        how, 
        and 
        where 
        you 
        wish," 
        answered 
        Decius, 
        "I 
        will 
        an-
swer with 
        my 
        life, 
        or 
        yours." 
        And 
        life-long 
        friendship 
        turned 
        to
bitter 
        enmity; 
        the 
        two 
        officers 
        were 
        separated 
        by 
        their 
        friends.
Within 
        his 
        own 
        tent, 
        Claudius 
        feverishly 
        paced 
        back 
        and
forth, 
        his 
        disordered 
        steps, 
        caused 
        half 
        by 
        anger 
        and 
        half 
        by 
        wine,
keeping 
        time 
        with 
        his 
        disordered 
        thoughts. 
        And 
        as 
        he 
        walked, 
        he
mused: 
        "What 
        a 
        man 
        am 
        I. 
        I 
        resent 
        the 
        slander 
        of 
        a 
        woman's
fame, 
        but 
        what 
        have 
        I 
        done 
        to 
        preserve 
        her 
        in 
        purity? 
        Have 
        I
kept 
        watch 
        and 
        ward 
        over 
        her, 
        or 
        has 
        she 
        been 
        left 
        to 
        protect 
        her-
self against 
        those 
        who 
        still 
        regard 
        slaves 
        as 
        chattels,
        —
        commodities
for 
        sale 
        and 
        barter
        —
        devoid 
        of 
        soul 
        and 
        human 
        feeling? 
        Nay,
have 
        I 
        not 
        given 
        her, 
        at 
        least 
        in 
        thought, 
        cause 
        for 
        fear 
        that 
        in-
stead of 
        protecting 
        her 
        I 
        would 
        attempt 
        her 
        destruction? 
        And
yet, 
        there 
        is 
        an 
        air 
        of 
        purity 
        about 
        her, 
        a 
        subtle 
        sense 
        of 
        the
divine, 
        which 
        disarms 
        evil, 
        and 
        makes 
        good, 
        duty. 
        What 
        it 
        is 
        that
gives 
        her 
        this 
        power, 
        I 
        know 
        not. 
        Pronounced 
        though 
        it 
        was 
        from
my 
        first 
        knowledge 
        of 
        her, 
        it 
        has 
        increased 
        beyond 
        measure 
        of
late. 
        Changing 
        not 
        in 
        kind, 
        but 
        in 
        intensity, 
        this 
        subtile 
        power
now 
        appears 
        invincible. 
        The 
        gods 
        be 
        praised 
        for 
        it!" 
        he 
        fervently
thought.    
        "From 
        what 
        depth 
        of 
        degradation 
        has 
        it 
        not 
        saved 
        me!"
In 
        his 
        hurried 
        walk, 
        he 
        did 
        not 
        notice 
        a 
        visitor 
        enter 
        his 
        tent.
It 
        was 
        the 
        imperator. 
        So 
        absorbed 
        was 
        the 
        young 
        man 
        in 
        his
varied 
        thoughts 
        that 
        the 
        general 
        had 
        to 
        bring 
        him 
        to 
        a 
        realization
of 
        the 
        present, 
        by 
        touching 
        his 
        arm. 
        Instinctively 
        his 
        hand 
        flew 
        to
his 
        sword-hilt; 
        then, 
        seeing 
        who 
        confronted 
        him, 
        he 
        blushed 
        and
stammered 
        an 
        apology.     
        Accustomed 
        as 
        the  
        imperator 
        was 
        to