I am told that HORATIUS spoke out pretty plainly to the Senate, expressing the opinion that three men could easily hold the bridge-head.  The gallant officer, interviewed while he was in the act of tightening his harness, declined to say much, merely expressing the opinion that everyone has got to die some time and that there was, after all, some satisfaction in being killed in a fight against odds.  I confess I was favourably impressed by the very nonchalance of his attitude.

* * * * *

Stop Press News.

LARTIUS BEAT AUNUS.  HERMINIUS BEAT SEIUS.  HORATIUS BEAT PICUS.

* * * * *

From “Hesperus” (Fourth Edition).

BRIDGE-HEAD STILL HELD.

DEATH OF ASTUR.

UNFORTUNATE MISHAP TO A LICTOR.

* * * * *

The Secretary to the Senate announces: 

“Latest advices show that HORATIUS has despatched ASTUR, and, though slightly wounded in this encounter, has been able to keep his place in the line.  The bridge head is still being held and there is now a pause in the fighting.  The total enemy casualties up to the present are estimated at:  Killed, 7; Wounded, 0; Missing, 0.  Our own casualties are:  Killed, 0; Wounded, 1; Missing, 0.  A regrettable incident took place during the demolition of the bridge, a Lictor having sliced himself with one of his own axes and being compelled to relinquish his valuable labours.”

* * * * *

(Stop-Press News.)

HORATIUS CUT OFF.

The bridge has been successfully destroyed shortly after the skilful withdrawal of LARTIUS and HERMINIUS in the face of the enemy.  We greatly regret to add that HORATIUS is missing, I having failed to make good his retreat with his comrades, and must be regarded as lost.—­(Official.)

* * * * *

From “Hesperus” (Special Home Edition).

HORATIUS SAFE.

HOW HE SWAM THE RIVER.

(By our Special Correspondent.)

HORATIUS, the only one of the “dauntless three” (as they have been already named) about whose safety doubts were entertained, has swum the river and is safe.  I saw him, when the bridge fell, standing alone, but obviously with all his wits about him, despite the ninety thousand foes before and the broad flood behind.  When he turned round he might have seen, I believe, from where he was standing (just where, on other occasions, I have stood myself) the white porch of his home.  His lips parted as if in prayer.  The next moment, pausing only to sheathe his ensanguined sword, he took a graceful dive into the river.

Some moments of terrible tension ensued.  When at last his head appeared above the surges, a cry of indescribable rapture went up, and I am happy to place on record the fact that I distinctly detected a note of generous cheering from the Tuscan ranks.