blamed his own carelessness and followed swiftly in pursuit. As he marched by day as well as by night, he was soon in advance of the king. So it happened that when Mithridates encamped by the banks of the river Euphrates, the Romans were already there, and determined that the enemy should not again escape.
But the very first evening as it grew dark Pompey became restless. He had set a strict watch, it was true, yet Mithridates had already shown himself skilful in evading sentinels. It would be safer to attack the camp without delay. Pompey summoned his officers, and arranged that the assault should take place at midnight.
Meanwhile, Mithridates lay asleep in his tent, worn out with fatigue and anxiety. As he slept, his troubles slipped from his mind, and the old king dreamed pleasant dreams. He thought that he had reached the sea, and was in a ship. The winds blew soft and fair, wafting the vessel quietly along toward a harbour where no foes could touch him.
In his dream the king began to tell his friends how pleased he was to have reached so safe a haven, when suddendenly the wind rose, lashing the sea into fury. The king grasped a spar, but his strength failed, and he was beginning to sink, when he awoke, and lo! it was a dream.
At that moment his officers rushed into his tent, to tell him that the Romans were preparing to attack them.
Swiftly the king shook off the effects of his dream, and ordered his troops to defend their camp to the last.
Now, as the Romans approached the enemy, the moon rose behind them and cast their shadows on the ground.
The soldiers of Mithridates saw the black flitting forms and grew bewildered. In the indistinct light they thought the shadows were the real soldiers, and they flung their darts at these imaginary foes.
Then with a great shout the Romans rushed in upon the puzzled enemy, fear was at once added to their confusion,
