spoke, it was in short Latin monosyllables, interlarded with
outlandish Gallic oaths. He wore cloth trousers with bright stripes of
red and orange; a short-sleeved cloak of dark stuff, falling down to
the thigh; and over the cloak, covering back and shoulders, another
sleeveless mantle, clasped under the chin with a huge golden buckle.
At his right thigh hung, from a silver set girdle, by weighty bronze
chains, a heavy sabre, of which the steel scabbard banged noisily as
its owner advanced.

"Holla! Pratinas," cried the Gaul, as he came close. "By the holy oak!
but I'm glad to see you! Come to my room. Have a flagon of our good
northern mead."

"Hist," said the Greek, cautiously. "Not so boisterous. Better stay
here in the dark. I can't tell who of your men may hear us."

"As you say," said Dumnorix, setting down the light at a little
distance and coming closer.

"You remember that little affair of last year," said Pratinas,
continuing;--"how you helped me get rid of a witness in a very
troublesome law case?"

"Ha! ha!" chuckled the giant, "I wish I had the sesterces I won then,
in my coffer now."

"Well," replied Pratinas, "I don't need to tell you what I and my
noble friend here--Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus--have come for. A
little more business along the same line. Are you our man?"