’"We can’t,” I said.  “I’m out of favour with my General, for one thing; and for another, Pertinax has an uncle.”

’"I don’t know about his uncle,” said Allo, “but the trouble with you, Parnesius, is that your General thinks well of you.”

’"Roma Dea!” said Pertinax, sitting up.  “What can you guess what Maximus thinks, you old horse-coper?”

’Just then (you know how near the brutes creep when one is eating?) a great dog-wolf jumped out behind us, and away our rested hounds tore after him, with us at their tails.  He ran us far out of any country we’d ever heard of, straight as an arrow till sunset, towards the sunset.  We came at last to long capes stretching into winding waters, and on a grey beach below us we saw ships drawn up.  Forty-seven we counted—­not Roman galleys but the raven-winged ships from the North where Rome does not rule.  Men moved in the ships, and the sun flashed on their helmets—­winged helmets of the red-haired men from the North where Rome does not rule.  We watched, and we counted, and we wondered, for though we had heard rumours concerning these Winged Hats, as the Picts called them, never before had we looked upon them.

’"Come away! come away!” said Allo.  “My Heather won’t protect you here.  We shall all be killed!” His legs trembled like his voice.  Back we went—­back across the heather under the moon, till it was nearly morning, and our poor beasts stumbled on some ruins.

’When we woke, very stiff and cold, Allo was mixing the meal and water.  One does not light fires in the Pict country except near a village.  The little men are always signalling to each other with smokes, and a strange smoke brings them out buzzing like bees.  They can sting, too!

’"What we saw last night was a trading-station,” said Allo.  “Nothing but a trading-station.”

’"I do not like lies on an empty stomach,” said Pertinax.  “I suppose” (he had eyes like an eagle’s)—­“I suppose that is a trading-station also?” He pointed to a smoke far off on a hill-top, ascending in what we call the Picts’ Call:—­Puff—­double-puff:  double-puff—­puff!  They make it by raising and dropping a wet hide on a fire.

’"No,” said Allo, pushing the platter back into the bag.  “That is for you and me.  Your fate is fixed.  Come.”

’We came.  When one takes Heather, one must obey one’s Pict—­but that wretched smoke was twenty miles distant, well over on the East coast, and the day was as hot as a bath.

’"Whatever happens,” said Allo, while our ponies grunted along, “I want you to remember me.”

’"I shall not forget,” said Pertinax.  “You have cheated me out of my breakfast.”

“What is a handful of crushed oats to a Roman?” he said.  Then he laughed his laugh that was not a laugh.

“What would you do if you were a handful of oats being crushed between the upper and lower stones of a mill?”

’"I’m Pertinax, not a riddle-guesser,” said Pertinax.