’By the end of the second month we were deep in the War as a man is deep in a snowdrift, or in a dream.  I think we fought in our sleep.  At least I know I have gone on the Wall and come off again, remembering nothing between, though my throat was harsh with giving orders, and my sword, I could see, had been used.

’The Winged Hats fought like wolves—­all in a pack.  Where they had suffered most, there they charged in most hotly.  This was hard for the defenders, but it held them from sweeping on into Britain.

’In those days Pertinax and I wrote on the plaster of the bricked archway into Valentia the names of the towers, and the days on which they fell one by one.  We wished for some record.

’And the fighting?  The fight was always hottest to left and right of the great statue of Roma Dea, near to Rutilianus’s house.  By the Light of the Sun, that old fat man, whom we had not considered at all, grew young again among the trumpets!  I remember he said his sword was an oracle!  “Let us consult the Oracle,” he would say, and put the handle against his ear, and shake his head wisely.  “And this day is allowed Rutilianus to live,” he would say, and, tucking up his cloak, he would puff and pant and fight well.  Oh, there were jests in plenty on the Wall to take the place of food!

’We endured for two months and seventeen days—­always being pressed from three sides into a smaller space.  Several times Allo sent in word that help was at hand.  We did not believe it, but it cheered our men.  ’The end came not with shoutings of joy, but, like the rest, as in a dream.  The Winged Hats suddenly left us in peace for one night and the next day; which is too long for spent men.  We slept at first lightly, expecting to be roused, and then like logs, each where he lay.  May you never need such sleep!  When I waked our towers were full of strange, armed men, who watched us snoring.  I roused Pertinax, and we leaped up together.

’"What?” said a young man in clean armour.  “Do you fight against Theodosius?  Look!”

’North we looked over the red snow.  No Winged Hats were there.  South we looked over the white snow, and behold there were the Eagles of two strong Legions encamped.  East and west we saw flame and fighting, but by Hunno all was still.

’"Trouble no more,” said the young man.  “Rome’s arm is long.  Where are the Captains of the Wall?”

’We said we were those men.

’"But you are old and grey-haired,” he cried.  “Maximus said that they were boys.”

’"Yes, that was true some years ago,” said Pertinax.  “What is our fate to be, you fine and well-fed child?”

’"I am called Ambrosius, a secretary of the Emperor,” he answered.  “Show me a certain letter which Maximus wrote from a tent at Aquileia, and perhaps I will believe.”

’I took it from my breast, and when he had read it he saluted us, saying:  “Your fate is in your own hands.  If you choose to serve Theodosius, he will give you a Legion.  If it suits you to go to your homes, we will give you a Triumph.”