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Farewell. To ROMANUS FIRMUS The rank you bear in our province, as decurio, is a proof that you are possessed, at least, of an hundred thousand sesterces;15 but that we may also have the satisfaction of seeing you a Roman Knight,16 I present you with three hundred thousand, in order to make up the sum requisite to entitle you to that dignity.
The Decurio stroked the fair hair of the lovely suppliant. "Poor child!" he replied gently; "you have nothing to fear; nobody will hurt you now." "You have saved me from these fearful people now save me from yourself!" "You have nothing to fear from me," replied the Dacian, proudly; "I fight for liberty alone, and you may rest as securely within my threshold as on the steps of the altar.
Scarcely had the words escaped his lips, than the Decurio, raising his left hand, severed the contradictor's head at one stroke from his body; and as it fell back, the lifeless trunk dropped on its knees before the Decurio, with its arms around him, as if in supplication. "Dare anyone still say it can?" asked Numa, with merciless rigor. The Wallachians turned silently away.
"Imre!" exclaimed the starting girl. "You have seen him, then? oh! where is he!" The Decurio hesitated. "He should not have delayed so long," he murmured, pressing his hand against his brow; "all would have been otherwise." "Oh! let me go to him; if you know where he is." "I do not know, but I am certain he will come here if he is alive indeed he must come." "Why do you think that?"
"Imre!" exclaimed the starting girl. "You have seen him, then? oh! where is he!" The Decurio hesitated. "He should not have delayed so long," he murmured, pressing his hand against his brow; "all would have been otherwise." "Oh! let me go to him; if you know where he is." "I do not know, but I am certain he will come here if he is alive indeed he must come." "Why do you think that?"
* Everything on which a double-headed eagle the emblem of the Austrian Government was painted, engraved or sculptured, the Wallachians called paszura. Imre hastily took the dress, while Decurio spoke to the people, made arrangements for the execution of their plans, and pointed out the way to the castle, promising to follow them immediately.
As evening closed, the Decurio returned, and softly approaching the bed, looked long and earnestly at the fair sleeper's face, until two large tears stood unconsciously in his eyes. The Roumin hastily brushed away the unwonted moisture, and as if afraid of the feeling which had stolen into his breast, he hastened from the room, and laid himself upon his woolen rug before the open door.
He was lying in a small chamber, through the only window of which the sunbeams shone upon his face. The bed on which he lay was made of lime-boughs, simply woven together, and covered with wolves' skins. A gigantic form was leaning against the foot of the bed with his arms folded, and as the young man awoke, he turned round. It was the Decurio.
Ten paces from where I stopped your horse, you would inevitably have been dashed to pieces by huge stones which they were preparing to throw down upon you from the rock." "And you did not desire my death?" "No, because it would have reflected dishonor on the Roumin name." "You are a chivalrous man, Decurio!" "I am what you are; I know your character, and the same feeling inspires us both.
"Ha! what is going on here?" thundered a voice from behind. The Wallachians looked round. A figure stood among them fully a head taller than all the rest. He wore a brass helmet, in which a deep cleft was visible, and held in his left hand a Roman sword. His features bore the ancient Roman character. "The Decurio!" they murmured, making way for him.
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