Marcus, The Young Centurion, by George Manville Fenn. 

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Marcus is eighteen, and his father had been a great Roman General, Cracis, who had fallen from grace some years before and was livingquietly, farming in a small way in southern Italy. An old ex-soldier, Serge, works on the farm, and is helping to bring Marcus up. Marcuswould like to be a soldier, and is encouraged in this by Serge, but hisfather has forbidden any discussion of the topic. 

One day a stranger comes to the door. This turns out to be none otherthan Caius Julius, later Caesar, who begs Marcus' father to join him ina war against the Gauls. He agrees, and goes, having made Marcus andSerge promise that they would not try to follow him. 

But they do, independently, and then meet accidentally. Serge was beingattacked by bandits, and Marcus sees this happening and rushes to therescue, so they are reunited, later to be joined also by the householddog, Lupe, who has tracked them across Italy. On reaching Rome they arejust in time to join the last unit of the Roman army as it leaves forthe war. They make their way across the mountains and into Gaul(France), where battles ensue, in which they distinguish themselves, andare brought to the notice of the Generals, whom they had rescued frompersonal disaster during the battle. So Marcus' military career isassured. 

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MARCUS, THE YOUNG CENTURION, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

FLIES AND BOYS. 

Hot as hot. Through the open window, where a couple of long shoots ofone of the grapevines hung down, partially shading the room within, abroad, glowing ray of light, which made the shadows near look purplyblack, streamed right across the head of Marcus, a Roman lad of abouteighteen, making his close, curly, brown hair glisten as if some of thethreads were of gold, while the light twinkled on the tiny dew-likedrops that stood out on the boy's brown forehead and by the sides of hisslightly aquiline nose. 

The side of his head was down upon the table and his hands outspreadupon either side; a wax-covered tablet had escaped from his left, and apointed stylus, with which he had been making a line of characters uponthe wax, had slipped from his right fingers, for he was sleeping like atop. 

All was wonderfully still in the Roman villa, and, from time to time, aslight puff of air which came cool from the mountains, but grew hotbefore it reached the house, sent one of the vine strands swinging toand fro like a pendulum, while the other, having secured itself to anouter shutter by one of its tendrils, remained motionless. 

The one that swung to and fro kept up its motion the more easily fromthe fact that it was weighted by a closely-set bunch of grapes of apearly green on one side, but on the other, facing the sun, beginning tobe tinged with a soft purple hue. Upon one of these berries a greatfly, which seemed to be clad in a coat of golden armour, sat with itsface away from the sun as if listening to the sleeping boy, who everynow and then uttered a low, buzzing sound which seemed to have attractedthe fly from the outer sunshine to dart to the window with a similarkind of hum, buzz round for a few moments, and then settle upon thegrape. 

There was not much similarity in the two sounds, simply because the flymade his by the rapid motion of the wings, while Marcus produced hissoftly through his nose. In plain English, Marcus, the Roman boy, sonof Cracis, the famous senator, tired out by the heat, had gone to sleepover his studies, snoring like an English lad of this year of grace, nearly two thousand years later on in the progress of the world. 

So Marcus snored, not loudly and unpleasantly, but with a nice, soft, humming note; and the great, golden-green fly sat on the grape andseemed to watch him. 

It was very still in the simple Roman villa on the steep slope of thehillside--a hill which looked like a young mountain, an offset of thebeautiful spur that ran upward from the vineyard farms and villas of thecampagna towards the purple shades of the great range far, far away. 

But now and again other sounds floated into the shadowy room past thebright bar of golden light which crossed the boy as he slept. 

There was the uneasy, querulous bleating of a goat, answered by theimpatient cry of a kid, and now and again the satisfied grunting ofpigs, though in those days they called them swine, of which there wereseveral basking in the sunshine in the little farm attached to thevilla, the little herd having shortly before returned from a muddy pool, dripping and thickly coated, after a satisfying wallow, to laythemselves down to dry and sleep in peace, the mud having dried into acrackling coat of armour which protected them from the flies. 

All at once that fly sprang up from the grape, darted into the room, andcircled round, humming loudly, one moment invisible in the dark, velvetyshade, the next flashing bright and golden as it darted across the sunnybar of light, till, all at once, it dropped suddenly upon the boy'sglistening nose, producing such a tickling sensation with its sixbrush-armed feet, that Marcus started impatiently, perfectly wide awake, and sent his disturber escaping from the window by an angry strokewhich, of course, missed, as he impatiently exclaimed in fine, old, sonorous, classic Latin:

"Bother the flies!"

The boy closed his eyes again, opened them sharply, and picked up histablet and stylus, yawned, and carefully laid them down again, for hishead felt very heavy. As he listened to the soft grunting of the swine, his eyelids dropped, and, in another moment, he would have been fastasleep once more, when from somewhere near at hand, as it seemed, therewas a sharp crack as of the breaking of a piece of wood. 

Marcus listened, fully awake once more, and, rising softly, he rose andapproached the window, to peer between the vine leaves that encroachedall down one side. 

He was listening to a soft whispering which was followed by a laugh, atearing noise, and another crack. 

The boy stole back and stood for a few moments in his loose, woollen, open-fronted garment, not very much unlike a tweed Norfolk jacketwithout pockets or buttons, very short in the sleeves. His eyes werewandering about the room as if in search of something which was notthere, and, not finding it, he stretched out his hands before him, looked at them with a satisfied smile, and doubled his fists. Then, stealing further back into the shadow, he passed through a door, madehis way along a passage, across another room, and out into the openatrium, a simply-made, shady court with a central basin where a littlejet of water played up, sparkling, and fell back in glistening drops. 

The next minute the boy was out in a fairly extensive garden, stoopinglow as he glided among the trees towards the little trellised vineyardon the sunny slope, where, from the continued sounds, it was evidentthat a party of marauders were making a foray amongst the unripenedgrapes, which, trained to fir-poles secured to posts, formed anattractive pergola overhead. 

Marcus approached as near as he could unseen, and then paused toreconnoitre, to find that the sounds proceeded from a party of six boysof somewhere about his own age, two of whom had destructively climbed upa couple of the poles to be seated astride amongst the spreading vines, where, after throwing down bunches to their four companions below, theywere setting their glistening white teeth on edge with the sour grapesthey had torn from the clinging strands. 

They were talking in whispers, but that was the only sign of fear theydisplayed, for the villa stood alone, the nearest domicile, anothervilla farm, being a couple of hundred yards away lower down the slope, and, apparently perfectly convinced that the occupants of the place wereright away, they feasted in perfect security and content. 

A grim smile came upon the handsome young face of Marcus as he watchedthe destruction going on. His eyes sparkled, his sun-browned cheek grewdeeper in its tint, and he looked round again for the something that wasnot to hand, that something being a good stout stick. Then, clenchinghis fists more tightly--nature's own weapons--and without a sound, hesuddenly made a dash for two of the boys who were standing with theirbacks towards him, and with a couple of springs came down upon them likefate, gripping them by the backs of their necks and sending them facedownwards amongst the vine leaves and damaged bunches that had been tornfrom the vine, kneeling upon one and pressing the head of the other downinto the soil, regardless of the shrieks and yells which made the twoseated above drop down and follow the other two, who had taken toflight, while the noise that was made startled the sleeping swineoutside to add their shrill squeals and heavy grunts to the turmoil ofthe cultivated ground within. 

It was hard work to keep down the two young marauders, who joined totheir struggling piteous appeals for mercy; but Right strengthened thehands of Marcus, and he was gaining a complete triumph, and calculatingwhere he should secure his two prisoners until either his father orSerge came back, the latter probably from his tramp through the forestto see after the young acorn-eating pigs. 

But the prisoners' shouts reached and added wings to their flyingfriends' heels for the moment, then checked them, and a feeling ofcomradeship prevailed. The young rascals stopped short after going somedistance; then one looked back, and his example was followed by anotherand another, till all four were hesitating as to what they should do. 

They were on the balance when a more pitiful yell than ever from theirtrapped companions sent the scale down in the latter's favour. Theylooked at one another questioningly and then began to steal back to seewhat was happening, all the while fully on the alert to dash againthrough the trees which shaded their approach to the garden. 

In this way, with their fellows' bellowing ringing in their ears, theyat last stole up to the palisading through which they had at firstbroken, and then, dropping on hands and knees, they crept cautiously upto the edge of the little vineyard and, sheltering themselves well, peered in. 

The first and boldest got a good glimpse at once, and beckoned and madeway for the others to see what was happening. 

There was not much to see, only Marcus half kneeling half sitting uponthe ragged back of one of his prisoners, and reaching over to grind thenose of the other a little more closely into the earth every time hesquealed. 

But that was enough for the return party, which clustered together onall fours with their faces approaching and eyes questioning, like somany quadrupeds. 

They looked the more animal-like from their silence during the next fewminutes, when the two prisoners made a concerted effort to get free--aneffort which only resulted in making their position worse, for, as hemastered them, reducing them to obedience again, the boy jammed hisknees fiercely into the ribs of the one upon whom he squatted, andlifted up and banged down again the head of the other. 

The result was a piteous burst of shrieks which were too much for theirfriends and supplied them with the courage in which they were wanting, making them with one consent spring forward to their comrades' help, influenced, however, by the feeling that they were six to one. 

So sudden and unexpected was the attack, which accompanied a loudshout--one which made the prisoners join in and heave themselves up toget free--that Marcus was jerked over, and, before he could gain hisfeet, found himself the centre of a combined attack in which he rapidlybegan to get the worst of it, for, while he fought bravely and pommelledand banged enemies in front, getting on so well that he succeeded inseizing two by the neck and hammering their heads together, two othersleaped on him from behind in his weak rear, in spite of his splendidkicking powers, while two more attacked in front. 

Marcus was a young Roman, and fought like the Romans of old; but thenthe six young roughs were Romans too, and they fought like the Romans ofold, and six to one is rather long odds. 

Breath began to come short, perspiration was streaming, and an unluckyblow on the nose set another stream flowing, while, all at once, a dabin the eye made the optic flinch, close its lid from intense pain, andrefuse to open again, so that one-eyed like a regular old Cyclops, andpanting like the same gentleman from the exertions of using his hammer--two in this case, and natural--Marcus fought on, grinding his teeth, rapidly weakening, but determined as ever, though he felt that he wasbeing thoroughly worsted by his foes. 

"I'm about done, " he said to himself; but he did not utter a sound savehis panting, while suddenly it began to grow dark; for, feeling that theday was their own, the enemy combined in a final rush, closed him in, hung on to him wherever they could get a hold, and were dragging himdown to take vengeance for the past--for they were old enemies, Marcusand they--when, all at once, there was a fierce, deep, growling bark, arush, a man's deep voice as if encouraging a dog, and Marcus was free, to stand there breathless and giddy, listening to the retreating stepsof his foes and the shouts to the dog of Serge, who had come to his helpin the nick of time. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

OLD SERGE. 

Marcus, son of Cracis, was a good deal hurt, but his injuries were of atemporary and superficial kind, and, as he stood listening, so littleimportance did he attach to his injuries that a broad grin began togather upon his frank young face, and he uttered a low, chuckling laugh;for, as he stood wiping his brow and listening, he could hear the soundsof blows, yells and cries, the worrying growl of the dog, and the harshencouraging voice of the man pretty close at hand, all of which taughthim that the enemy had been checked in their retreat and were beinghorribly routed by the reinforcements--a cohort of dog and man. 

"The young ruffians!" said Marcus, softly, as, unwillingly dragginghimself from where he could have the satisfaction of hearing thepunishment that was being awarded, he hurried back into the villa andstopped in the court, where he sank upon his knees by the cool, plashingfountain, whose clear waters he tinged as he bathed his face and swolleneye. 

He had some intention of hurrying back to the scene of battle to lookupon the damaged vines, and see if any prisoners had been made; but, while he was still occupied in his surgical effort to make his injuredeye see as well as the other, he was startled into rising up and turningto face the owner of a deep, gruff voice, who had approached himunheard, to growl out:

"Well, you were a pretty fellow, boy! Why didn't you beat 'em?"

The speaker was a big, thick-set, grizzled man of fifty, his bare armsand legs brown-skinned, hairy and muscular, his chest open, and hislittle clothing consisting of a belted garment similar to that worn bythe boy, at whom he gazed with a grim look of satisfaction which lit uphis rugged face and fine eyes. 

"Weren't running away, were you?"

"No!" shouted Marcus, angrily. "I kept at it till you came, Serge. Butthere were six. "

"Yes, I know. You didn't go the right way to work. Were they at thegrapes?"

"Yes. They woke me up; I had been writing, and I dropped asleep. "

"Writing?" said the man contemptuously and with a deep grunt of scorn. "Enough to send anybody to sleep on a day like this. I say, lucky foryou I came back!"

"Yes, " said Marcus, giving his face a final wipe; "I was getting theworst of it. "

"Course you were. That's reading and writing, that is. Now, if you hadbeen taught to be a soldier instead of a volumer, you'd have known thatwhen the enemy's many more than you, you ought to attack him in bits, not take him all at once and get yourself surrounded. Yes, it's luckyfor you I came. "

"Yes, and I hope you gave them something to remember it, " said the boy, with his eyes fixed upon the stout crook upon which the new-comerleaned. 

"Oh yes, I made them feel this, " said the man, with a chuckle; "and oldLupus tickled them up a bit and made them squeak. "

"That's right, " cried Marcus; "but where is he?"

"On guard, " said the man. 

"On guard?"

"Yes, " said the man, with a chuckle. "We took the whole six of themprisoners. "

"Ah! Where are they then?"

"Shut up fast alone with the wine-press. They won't get out of therewith Lupus looking on. "

"Capital!" cried Marcus, forgetting all his sufferings in the triumphantnews. "Here, Serge, what shall we do with them?"

"I'm not going to do anything with them, " said the man, gruffly. "I'vehad my turn, and it's yours now. You've got to fight the lot. "

"Yes, " cried the boy, flushing, and his fists began to clench. "But Isay, Serge, I should like to, but I'm a bit tired, and they're still sixto one. "

"Yes, " said the man, "but that's what I want you to see. It won't hurtyou to know how, even if you're never going to be a soldier. You comealong o' me. "

"What, to fight them?" cried Marcus. 

"Yes. Aren't afraid, are you?"

"Not a bit, " cried the boy, flushing angrily. "Come and see. "

The man chuckled as he went off with his young companion to the lowerside of the villa, where stood a low-roofed stone building with heavychestnut plank doors, before which crouched a big, shaggy wolf-houndwhich pricked up its ears and uttered a deep growl as it lifted up itsbushy tail, and rapped the earth in recognition of the new-comers, butdid not take its eyes from the door beyond which were the prisoners ithad been set to guard. 

"Now, boy, " said the man, "it was your doing that I taught you a bit ofsoldiering, and a nice row there'll be about it some day when he findsus out; so now I'm just going to show you, if you're not too tired, howone good Roman can fight six enemies and beat 'em, same as we've oftendone in the good old days when I wore my armour and brass helmet withits plume, not a straw hat and things like these. Ah, boy, " said theman, drawing himself up and shouldering his crook as if it were a spear, "those were grand old times! I was a better man then than now. "

"No, you weren't, Serge, not a bit, " cried the boy. "You must havealways been what you are now--a dear good old chap who'd do anything forme. "

The fierce-looking old fellow smiled pleasantly, literally beaming uponthe boy, whom he patted on the shoulder. 

"Ah, " he said, "but there was no you then. But never mind all that. Hark!" he continued, softly, as a whispering was heard beyond the door, "They know we are coming, and they're thinking about making a rush whenI open the door. But they'd better not try; you'd pin some of them, wouldn't you, Lupe?"

The dog uttered a low, deep, thundering growl. 

"That's right, boy. Now, Marcus, my lad, if you feel too tired, say so, and we'll keep them till the master comes. "

"Oh, don't do that, " cried the boy. "He'd only talk to them and scoldthem, and then let them go, after forgiving them for stealing thegrapes. "

"That's right, boy; so he would. "

"And they'd all laugh, " cried Marcus, "and come again. "

"But they won't after the welting you are going to give them, boy--ifyou are not too tired. "

"Of course I'm tired, " cried the boy, impatiently, "after a fight likethat; but then they are tired too, so it's all fair--only six to one?"

"Don't I tell you that I am going to show you how to fight them as aRoman should, and how we used to conquer in the good old times before wetook to reading and writing and came into the country to keep pigs. "

"And grow corn and grapes, and feed our goats in this beautiful farmvilla; and if father liked to take to study instead of being a greatRoman general and senator, it's not for you, Serge, to find fault withwhat it pleases him to do. "

"Right, boy! Spoken like your father's son. It was only one of mygrowls. I don't mind. He's one of the finest men that ever stepped, and what he says is right. But you and me, we don't want him to letthese young ragamuffins off without loosening their skins a bit to dothem good, do we?"

"No!" cried the boy, joyously, as he showed his white teeth. "I say, Serge, I feel rested now, and I want to give it to them for knocking meabout as they did. The rascally young plebs! The cowards! Six to one!I believe they'd have half killed me if they had got me down. "

"That they would, Marcus, my boy, " cried the old soldier, gazing at himproudly. "But come on, I'll show you the way, and Lupe and I will lookon and see that they fight fair, while we guard you flank and rear. OldLupe shall be ready to scatter their mothers, if they hear that we havethe young rascals fast. No women will interfere if old Lupe begins toshow his teeth. "

The man and boy exchanged glances, and, as the former struck his staffdown heavily upon the earth in advancing towards the great, rough doorof the building, the latter's fists clenched involuntarily, and the dogpricked up his ears and uttered a low sigh. 

The next minute a big, rough, hairy hand was raised to the cross-barwhich secured the door, and, at the first touch, there was a low, rustling sound within the building. 

Serge and Marcus exchanged glances again, while the dog crouched as ifabout to spring. 

Directly after, the bar was loosened, and fell with a clang, the doorwas dragged open from within, and the prisoners made a simultaneous rushto escape, but only to fall back with a despairing yell, for the greatdog bounded at them, and the old soldier and his young master closed in, to fill up the door and step forward. 

"Stop outside, Lupe, my lad, " said the old soldier, quietly; and the dogturned back to his former position and crouched once more, while thedoor was shut from the inside, the six boys backing to the far side, beyond the great stone hewn-out press, empty now, dry and clean, for thetime of grape harvest was not yet. 

"Now then, my fine fellows, " growled Serge; "you want to fight, do you?"

"We want to go, " half whimpered the one who acted as spokesman. 

"Oh, yes, you want to go, " said the old soldier; "of course. Well, youshall go soon, but you wanted to fight young Marcus here, and you didn'tplay fair. "

"Never touched him till he came at us, " cried another. 

"So I suppose, " said Serge. "Very hard on you! Six nice boys!Interfered, did he, when you were breaking down the vines and stealingthe grapes?"

"They warn't ripe, " whimpered another. 

"Then they ought to have been, seeing that you wanted them, " criedSerge, indignantly, while Marcus laughed. "But as they weren't ripe, ofcourse, it made you cross, and you began to fight young Marcus here. "

None of the boys spoke, but gazed longingly at the door. 

"Ah! You see it ain't fastened inside, " said Serge, mockingly; "but itis fastened outside with dog's teeth. I wouldn't advise you to try toget out, because our dog, Lupus, doesn't like boys, and he's hungry. Nothing he'd like better than to eat such a chap as one of you. But youknow that, and you wouldn't have come, only you'd seen me go off to theforest with him to herd up the young swine. Didn't know that we shouldbe back so soon. You see, the young swine were just at the edge. "

"You'd better not touch us, old Serge, " cried the biggest lad, in awhining tone. "You touch me and see if my father don't mark you!"

"I'm not going to touch you, boy, " replied the herdsman. "I've done allI wanted to you for breaking down my grape poles that I cut and set up. I've got you here because you wanted to fight. "

"I don't want to fight, " cried the youngest of the party. "You'd betterlet us go. "

"Yes, I'm going to as soon as you've fought young Marcus and beat him asyou meant to. "

"We don't want to fight, " half sobbed another. "We want to go home. "

"I don't believe it, " growled Serge. "You want to whip young Marcus, and I'm going to see you do it; only old Lupe, our dog, and me's goingto see fair. "

"No, you ain't!" came in chorus. "You've got to call that dog off andlet us go. "

"Yes, when you've done, " said the old soldier, with a grin. "Who'sgoing to be the first to begin? For it's going to be a fair fight, notsix all at once upon one. Now then, anyhow you like, only one at atime. What, you won't speak? They're nice boys, Marcus, my lad, somodest they don't like to step before one another; so you'll have tochoose for yourself. Just which you like, but I should go or that bigfellow first. "

"I don't want to fight, " whined the lad indicated, and he backed inamong his companions and placed himself as far behind them as he could. 

"Oh, come! This is wasting time. There, go and fetch him out into themiddle, Marcus, my lad--or no, I'll do it. "

CHAPTER THREE. 

AN OLD-FASHIONED FIGHT. 

Serge had been standing leaning over his crook, but now, taking it inboth hands and holding it before him, he stepped quickly towards the biglad, who backed more and more away; but his effort to escape was invain, for, quick as thought, Serge brought down his crook as if tostrike the lad a violent blow, making him wince and bound aside, when, before he knew what was happening, he was hooked by the leg like anobstinate swine, and dragged, yelling and calling for help, out into themiddle of the stone shed. 

"Got you, " said Serge, coolly. "There, it's no use to kick. Here, youother boys, close up and see fair. "

Satisfied at once that they were outside the trouble, the other ladsbegan to grin, and, obeying the old soldier, they closed in together, whispering to their companion who had just been hauled out, as theybelieved, to bear the brunt of the expected punishment. 

Their whispers were ill received by the selected victim, who, as soon ashis leg was released from the crook, made as if to back away again; buthis companions put a stop to this and began urging him on, trying toincite him to begin, he reluctant and resisting all the time, till hisire was roused by Marcus, who, at a word from the old soldier, dashed into make a beginning, using his fists upon his enemy so well that, at theend of two or three minutes, the latter threw himself down, howlingdismally and covering his face with his arms. 

"Here, you are not half done!" cried Serge, poking him in the ribs withthe butt end of his crook. "Get up, will you, or I'll make the otherfellows stand you in a corner to be thrashed. "

"Oh, let him be, Serge, " cried Marcus. "I did give it him well, and hithim as hard as I could. "

"Oh, very well, " said the old soldier, hooking the boy again anddragging him, resisting all he could, to the door. 

"Just hold it open, Marcus, my lad. That'll do. No, no, Lupe, we don'twant you. Now then, young fellow, off you go, and if ever I see youhere again I'll set the dog at you, and if he once gets hold he won'tlet you off so easily as I do. "

One minute the boy was resisting and tugging to get his leg free of thecrook; the next, as soon as he realised that he was being set free, hedashed off, yelling threats of what he meant to do, till the dog sprangup with a growl, and the yells gave place to a shriek of fear, utteringwhich he disappeared from view. 

"Oh, no, you don't!" cried Serge, as, taking advantage of the dog's backbeing turned, the others cautiously approached the door, and were aboutto make a dash for liberty. 

As the old soldier spoke he thrust his crook across the doorway, and, asthe boys fell back again, the dog resumed its watchful position and thedoor was closed. 

Directly after, to Marcus' great enjoyment, there was a repetition ofthe previous proceedings, Serge selecting another victim with his crookfrom the five prisoners, dragging him out into the middle, where Marcus, who now thoroughly enjoyed his task, attacked him as Serge fell back, and, between him and the other lads, the second prisoner was forced tofight; but it was a sorry exhibition of cowardice, resulting in acertain amount of punishment, before he too lay down and howled, and wasthen set at liberty. 

The proceedings were repeated till the other four had received athrashing, and the last had clashed off, shamming terrible injury oneminute till he was outside the door, and yelling defiance the next; andthen, as the footsteps died out, Marcus threw himself upon the groundunder the shady vines. 

"Hallo!" cried Serge, anxiously. "Have they hurt you, boy?"

"No, " was the reply; "but I hurt myself a good deal against their thickheads. But I say, Serge, do you think that was fair?"

"Fair? Of course it was!"

"But it seemed so one-sided, and as if I had it all my own way. Theycouldn't fight because they were afraid of you. "

"Of you, you mean, boy, when it was man to man. "

"No, " said Marcus; "they'd have fought better if you and the dog hadn'tbeen here. "

"Yes, and they could all have come on you at once. A set of mongrelyoung hounds--half savages, that's what they are. You didn't thrashthem half enough. "

"Quite as much as I wanted to, " cried the boy, "for my knuckles are assore as sore. But oh, I say, Serge, it was comic!"

"They didn't think it was, my lad. "

"I mean, to see you hooking them out one after another with your oldcrook, yelling and squealing like pigs. "

"Humph!" grunted the old soldier, with his grim face relaxing. "Well, it has given them a pretty good scaring, and I don't suppose that theywill come after our grapes again. "

"Yah-h-ah!" came in a defiant chorus from a distance, where the youngmarauders had gathered together, and the dog sprang upon his feet, growling fiercely, before bursting into a deep, baying bark. 

"Hear that?" cried Marcus. 

"Hear it, yes! And it would not take much to make me set old Lupe afterthem. He'd soon catch them up, and then--"

"Yah-h-ah!"

"Fetch them down, boy!" shouted the old soldier, and, with a fierceroar, the dog dashed off in a series of tremendous bounds, but only tobe checked by a shrill whistle from Marcus, which stopped the fiercebeast and brought him trotting slowly back, to crouch down at his youngmaster's feet. 

"Why did you do that, lad?" cried the old soldier, staring. 

"Because I didn't want Lupe to get amongst them, worrying and tearing. What would my father have said?"

The old soldier let his crook fall into the hollow of his left arm andpushed off his battered straw hat, to let it slide down between hisshoulders, where it hung by its string, while, with his grim sun-tannedface as full of wrinkles as a walnut shell, he slowly swept the drops ofmoisture from his brow. 

"Hah, yes, " he said; "I didn't think of that. He wouldn't have likedit. He's got so soft and easy with people since he took to volumes andskins covered with writing. Why, his sword would be all rusty if itwasn't for me. It's all waste of time, for he'll never use it again, but I don't like to see a good blade such as his all covered with spots. Yes, boy, " added the man, thoughtfully, "I'm glad you stopped old Lupe. Haw-haw-haw! I should rather liked to have seen him, though, nibblingtheir heels and making them run. "

"Nibbling!" laughed Marcus. "Nibbling, Serge!" And the boy stoopeddown, raised the great dog's muzzle, and pulled up one of his lips toshow the great, white fangs. "Not much of nibblers, these. "

"Well, no, my lad, " said the old soldier; "they don't look nibbley. Nibblers wouldn't do for him, would they, Lupe, old man? He wants goodtools to tackle the wolves in winter. There, it's all over, and I don'tfeel so savage now. Here, you had better go and have a good wash whileI see to the vine poles and put in a new un or two from the stack. Iexpect I shall have to prune a bit too, and tie, where those youngruffians have been at work. Let's get a bit tidy before the mastercomes back, though I don't suppose he'd take any notice if there wasn'ta grape bunch left. But he'd see the dirt and scratches on your facefirst thing. "

"Yes, of course, " cried the boy, hastily, as he held up his knuckles, two of which were minus skin, and showing traces of dried blood. "But Isay, Serge, look at my face. Is it much knocked about?"

"Well, pretty tidy, my lad. You look as if you had been in the wars. Nose is a little bit knocked on one side. "

"Oh, Serge!" cried the boy, showing real excitement now. 

"Left eye looks a bit sleepy, too. "

"Serge!"

"Well, you asked me, my lad--and your bottom lip has been cut againstyour tooth. "

"Oh, what will he say?" cried the boy, wildly. 

"I dunno, " growled the old soldier, grimly. "Yes, I do, " and his eyestwinkled with satisfaction and pride in the prowess his young master haddisplayed. 

"What will he say?" cried the boy, anxiously, and as if he placed fullconfidence in the old servant's words. 

"Say you oughtn't to have been fighting, but been busy scratting aboutwith your stylus and making marks on that wax. "

"But I was busy, only it was so hot and one couldn't keep awake; andwhen I heard those fellows breaking down the vines--"

"Why, you went out and walloped them, of course, " cried the man. "Quitenat'ral. What boy wouldn't who had got any stuff in him at all? There, don't you fret yourself about it, lad. The master will grumble at you abit, of course, same as he does at me; but he's a right to, and it'sonly his way as he's got into now since he took to his books andwriting. But there was a time--ah! And not so very long ago, my lad--when if he'd caught those ragged young cubs tearing down his vines, he'dhave stood and laughed and enjoyed seeing you thrash 'em, and helped youwith his stick. And done them good too, made men of them, knowing whatwas right. But there, those days have all passed away. No moremarching in the legion with the men's plumes dancing in the sunshine, and every man's armour as bright and clean as hands can make it. Ah, Marcus, my boy, those were grand old days, when we marched out toconquer, and came back and made grand processions, and the prisonerscarrying all the spoil. I did hope to have seen you as fine a youngcenturion, growing into a general, as your father was before you. But--but--There, don't stand staring at me with your eyes shining, your facered, and your mouth half open like that. Be off at once and have a goodwash, and bathe those cuts and bruises till they look better. "

"Yes! I had better go, " said the boy, with a sigh. "It was a greatbother for those boys to come. I meant when you came back for us tohave some practice with the shield and spear, and then for you to showme again how to use the sword. "

"Hah, yes, " growled the old man, drawing a deep breath through hisdilating nostrils, and unconsciously he whirled up his crook with onehand, and as he dropped into a picturesque attitude with one footadvanced and let the stout staff drop into his extended left hand, "that's the way, " he cried. "Fancy, boy, a thousand spears presentedall at once like that to the coming barbarians, and then the advanceslowly and steadily, driving them scattered back, while the trumpetssounded and the ground quivered like a coming earthquake beneath thearmy's tramp. That's how we conquered and made the fame of grand oldRome. Bah! What an old fool I am!" he cried, as he stamped the end ofhis crook down once more, "I forget I'm not a soldier now, boy, onlyCracis' man who tends his farm and keeps his swine. "

"Never mind, Serge; we are very nice and happy here. The place is sobeautiful. Father likes you. "

"Bah! Not he! He only looks upon me as a slave. "

"That he doesn't!" cried the boy, indignantly. "Why, only the other dayhe was talking about you. "

"About me?"

"Yes, and saying what a happy, peaceful place this was. "

"Peaceful! Bah!"

"And that it didn't matter what came to pass, he had me with him. "

"Of course! Spoken like a father. "

"And you, " continued the boy, "a true old friend in whom he couldtrust. "

"What!" cried the old soldier. "What! Friend? Did he say that?"

"Of course. He often talks like that. "

"A friend in whom he could trust!" muttered the old soldier. "And herehave I been listening to you and doing what I know he'd hate. "

He gripped the boy sharply by the wrist as he spoke. 

"Why, Serge, what do you mean?" cried the boy, wonderingly. 

"Mean! Why, what have I been doing? Doesn't he want you to grow up asone who hates fighting, and a lover of peace? And here have I beenteaching you how to use the sword and spear and shield, making of youone who knows how to lead a phalanx to the fight--a man of war. Whatwould he say if he knew?"

Marcus was silent. 

"I have done wrong, boy, " continued the old soldier, "and some day he'llfind us out. "

The boy was still silent for a few moments. Then quickly--

"I must tell him some day, Serge, that it was all my doing--that Iwouldn't let you rest until you had taught me what I know. "

"That's true, boy, " said Serge, in a sombre tone, "and it all comes ofletting you see me take so much care of his old armour and his sword andspear. Yes, like my own old arms and weapons, I have kept them allbright and ready for use, for it's always seemed to me as if the timemight come and bring the order for us to march to tackle some of Rome'sold enemies, or to make new conquests--perhaps to Gaul--and that we mustbe ready for that day. I oughtn't to have done it, boy, but I was anold soldier, one who loved to see his weapons ready for the fight, andsomehow I did. There, off you go! It's no use to think now of what isdone. "

CHAPTER FOUR. 

CAUGHT. 

It was the next day, under a brilliant blue Italian sky, that Marcus, after spending the morning with his father in the room he devoted to hisstudies, hurried out with a sense of relief to seek out the old soldier, whom he expected to find repairing damages amongst the vines. But thedamages were repaired, and very few traces remained of the mischief thathad been done; but several of the upright fir-poles looked new, andthere were marks of knife and bill-hook upon some of the freshcross-pieces that had been newly bound in their places. But a freshlytied-in cane and the careful distribution of the broad leaves prettywell hid the injured places, and Marcus walked away smiling as hethought of the encounter he had had, while passing his fingers daintilyover bruise and cut, and feeling gently a place or two that were tenderstill. He walked down one path and up another of the garden, his eyeswandering about to see if Serge were busy there; but he was absent, andthere was no sign of him in the farmyard, and none of the labourers whomhe found at work could give any news of his whereabouts. 

For quite half an hour the boy wandered about the well-kept littleestate of his father before beginning to return towards the villaembowered in flowers that had been carefully trained over the stonewalls, when, going round to the back, he heard a burring sound as ifsomeone with a very unmusical voice were trying to sing; and, hurryingalong a path, after muttering impatiently, the boy made for an openwindow, grasping the fact that he had had all his walk and search fornothing, and that, if he had gone round to the two rooms set apart forthe old soldier's use before going out, he would have found him there. 

Marcus dashed up to the window, and looked in. 

"Why, Serge, " he cried, "I've been hunting for you everywhere! Ah!What are you doing there?"

Without waiting for an answer, the boy drew sharply back, ran to an opendoorway, entered and made his way at once into Serge's room, a roughmuseum in its way of the odds and ends of one who acted as herdsman, gardener, and general odd man to the master of the little country Romanvilla. 

"Why, I have just come in time!"

"Oh, here you are, then, " said Serge, ignoring the boy's question. "Well, what did the master say about the broken vines?"

"Nothing, " replied Marcus. 

"Well, about your cuts and bruises?"

"Nothing, " said the boy again. 

"He must have said something, seeing how you're knocked about. "

"No, he must not. "

"What!"

"He was so quiet and thoughtful yesterday evening, and again thismorning, that he hardly looked at me at breakfast time; and when we wentinto the study he took up the new volume he is reading, and hardlyraised his head again. "

"Then you haven't been scolded for fighting?"

"Not in the least. "

"So much the better for you. "

"But I say, what in the world is the meaning of all this?" cried theboy, as he stepped to the rough table, upon which, bright withpolishing, was a complete suit of armour such as would have been worn bya Roman man-at-arms if he had joined the army when a mere youth. 

There lay the curved, brazen helmet with its comb arching over and edgedwith its plume, the scaled cheek-straps that held it in its place, theleathern breast and back-piece moulded and hammered into the shape ofthe human form, brazen shoulder-pieces, ornamentations andstrengthening, the curved, oblong shield and short sword with lion'shead to its hilt and heavy sheath. 

There were two more helmets and suits of armour hanging from the walls, the one rich and ornamental, such as an officer would have worn, theother plain, and every indication visible of the old soldier having hada general clean up, the result of his polishing being that every pieceof metal glistened and was as bright as hands could make it. 

"Come in time?" said Serge. "What for? I didn't want you here. "

"No, but I wanted to come. How beautiful it all looks!"

These words softened the old soldier's next remarks. He uttered asatisfied grunt as he said:

"Yes, I have had a good turn at them; but it seems a pity, don't it?"

"What seems a pity?"

"To wrap all that tackle up and put it away so as it shan't be seen, till I think it wants cleaning again. "

"Yes, of course. But you are not going to put mine away. "

"Oh, yes, I am, " said the old man. "I didn't sleep all last night forthinking about it. I don't mean for us to get into any trouble with themaster, so remember that. "

"Look here, Serge!" cried the boy, angrily, "you can put your armour andfather's away, of course, but this is mine, and I didn't save up themoney father gave me and let you buy what was wanted and pay those oldworkmen, the smith and armourer, to cut down and alter and make allthese things to fit me, to have them all wrapped up and put away where Ican't see them. "

"But you must, boy. You are not going to fight. "

"Never mind that. I am not going to have them put away. "

"Why not?"

"Because I want to put them on sometimes. "

"Bah! To go and strut about like a full-plumaged young cockerel in thespring, and look at yourself in a bit of glass!"

"No; I'm not so vain, " said the boy; "but I've got that armour and thoseweapons, and you have been teaching me how to use a sword and spear, anda lot more besides, and I mean to go on learning--so mind that. "

"Ho!" cried the old man. "And who's going to teach you?"

"You are, till I'm perfect. "

"Can't ever get perfect in using a sword and spear. It arn't to bedone, no matter how you practise. "

"Well, I mean to get as perfect as I can, and you are going on teachingme. "

"Nay, " said the old man; "once a fool don't mean always a fool. I amgoing to put all these away, and you have got to forget it. "

"No!" cried the boy, angrily. "I shall never forget what you've taughtme, Serge--never; and I'm not going to have my things put away. Youshall keep them here, as you have since you fetched them home one afterthe other as they were made. "

"And all too big for you, so that you might fill up and grow into them, "said the old soldier, with a sigh of regret. 

"And I have grown, ever so much, Serge. "

"You have, lad; and you're big-boned, and you'll make a big man one ofthese days. You were framing finely for a soldier, my boy. But that'sall over now. "

"No, it isn't, " cried the boy, impatiently, "and you shall go onteaching me about all the fighting and the men's shields being alllinked together so that the enemy shouldn't break through the serriedranks. "

"Nay, my lad, " sighed the old warrior; "that was all very grand, but Idon't know what I could have been thinking about to let you persuade meto teach you what I did, all going against the master's orders as itwas. I suppose I liked it, for it put me in mind of the old days; but Iseem to have come to myself like and know better now. You tempted me, my lad, and I'm afraid I tempted you; but no more of it. I'm sorry forwhat's done, and the best way to be sorry for it is to own up and neverdo so any more. "

"Then you mean that you're to leave off teaching me?"

"Yes, my lad; that's so. "

"And suppose I say, as your master: `you shall go on. ' What then?"

"I should say: `you're not going to disobey your father's orders anymore, but to give all this soldiering up like a man. '"

"Serge!"

"That's right, my lad, and I know you aren't going to set your faceagainst what the master says I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes, Serge, " said the boy, sadly; "but it seems very hard. "

"It do, boy, very, very hard; but orders are orders, and I forgot toteach you what is the first thing a soldier has to learn. "

"What's that, Serge? How to use his sword and shield? You did teach methat. "

"No, that's not what I meant. What a soldier has to learn first is toobey orders, and I want to teach you that now. "

Marcus was silent for a while, as he stood looking wistfully at thespeaker, then at the bright soldierly accoutrements, back at the oldman, and lastly, as if the bright weapons and armour fascinated him, hestood frowning fixedly down at everything that was spread out upon therough table. 

The boy's looks and actions affected the old man, who said sadly:

"It do seem hard, lad, eh?"

"Yes, very, very hard, Serge, " replied Marcus. 

"But it's duty, boy, eh! What we ought to do?"

"Yes, Serge, and it must be done; but I wish we had never begun it all. "

"Ay, lad, so do I; but it's of no use to wish. There, have one goodlook at it, and then I'll put it all away in the big chestnut box. "

"But I shall want to look at it all sometimes, Serge. "

"Well, I don't see no harm in that, my boy. Only no more fightinglessons. "

"No, " sighed Marcus; "no more fighting lessons. You are right, Serge, and I'm going to forget all about it if I can; but I shall always feelthat I should have liked to be a Roman soldier. "

"Ah, you can't help that, boy, of course. "

"No, I can't help that, " sighed Marcus, and, stretching out his hands, he picked up the heavy brazen helmet, looked at it round and roundbefore turning it with the back towards him, and then, slowly raisingit, he balanced the heavy head-piece on high for a few moments beforeslowly lowering it down upon his head; the scaled cheek-straps fell intotheir places, and he drew himself up erect with his eyes flashing andface lighting up, as he gazed half defiantly at the old soldier. 

"Hah!" cried the latter. "It do fit you well, boy, and you look nearlya man in it. "

"Do I, Serge?" cried the boy, flushing, as he put off the helmet with asigh, and set it aside; then, catching up the sword and belt, he wentout on to the _Piazza_ to buckle them on, his fingers trembling withexcitement the while. 

"Do you, boy? Yes, and a regular soldier too, " said Serge, following. 

Marcus threw his hand across and grasped the scabbard of the short swordblade with his left, the hilt with his right, and, the next moment, thekeen, two-edged weapon flashed in the sunlight. 

"Good! Brave boy!" cried the old soldier excitedly, and, forgetting allthe words that had passed, he fetched the oblong, round-faced shieldfrom the table and held it ready for Marcus to thrust his left armthrough the loop and then grasp the hand-hold firmly, and draw the pieceof defensive armour before his breast. "Well done! Now think that I'mgoing to cut you down. "

In an instant Marcus had drawn back with all his weight upon his rightfoot, as he slightly raised the shield to cover his head and leftbreast, before throwing himself forward again, bringing up his righthand, sword-armed as it was, and delivering a thrust which, in the boy'sexcitement, lightly touched the folds of the thick woollen garment whichcrossed his breast, while the receiver smartly drew himself aside. 

"Gently, boy!" he shouted. "I didn't mean you to do that!"

"Oh, Serge!" cried Marcus, flushing scarlet. "I didn't mean to touchyou like that! I haven't hurt you, have I?" he cried. 

"Well, no, " said the old fellow, smiling grimly; "but it was very near, and the point of that sword's as sharp as I could grind it. "

"I'm so sorry, " cried Marcus. "I didn't think. "

"Lucky for me I did, " said Serge, with a laugh. "Did you think I was anenemy?"

"No, " cried Marcus, hurriedly; "I thought--no, I didn't think. "

"Of course you didn't, boy, but--"

"What is the meaning of this?" said a stern voice, and a bare-headedfigure draped in the folds of a simple Roman toga stood lookingwonderingly at the pair. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

THE TROUBLE GROWS. 

"There!" muttered Serge. "We've done it now!"

"My old arms and weapons! Yours, Serge! And these?--How came you to bepossessed of those, my boy?"

The new-comer pointed, frowning the while, at the boy's weapons, andthen turned his eyes upon Serge, who turned as red as the detected boy, and made signs for him to speak; but, instead of speaking out, Marcussignalled back for his companion to explain. 

"I am waiting very patiently for one of you to give me some explanation, though I see plainly enough that I have been disobeyed by you, my son, as well as by my old servant, in whom I thought I could placeconfidence. Marcus, my son, do not disgrace yourself further bybehaving like a coward. Speak out at once and confess. "

"Yes, father, " cried the boy, making a desperate effort to speak outfrankly. "I want to tell you everything, but it is so hard to do. "

"Hard to speak the truth, boy?"

"No, father, I did not mean that. I--I--"

"Well, sir?"

"I've done wrong, father, and I am ashamed of it. "

"Hah! Come, that is more like my boy, " cried Cracis, very sternly, butwith the frown upon his brow less deeply marked. "There, go on. "

"It was like this, father. One day I found Serge cleaning andburnishing the old armour that you and he used to wear. "

"Why was this, sir?" cried Cracis sternly to his old servant. "Did Inot tell you that I had given up a warrior's life for ever?"

"Yes, master. "

"Did I place any tie upon you? Did I not tell you that you were free toremain in the legion?"

"Yes, master; but how was I to leave you? You know I could not. "

"Well, sir, I gave you leave to stay here with me in my country house, but I told you to leave all traces of my former life behind. "

"You did, master. "

"Is this the way that you obey a master who has always been true to youin his dealings?"

"It's all bad, master, " replied the man, "and I tried hard to do myduty, and so I brought the old armour and our swords, and somethingseemed to make me keep everything clean and bright, ready if it shouldbe wanted. "

"It never could be wanted by one who was rejected, humbled and disgracedas I was, man. You knew all that took place, and saw me cast down frommy position. "

"Yes, master, and my heart bled for you. That's why I came. "

"Yes, " said Cracis, more gently, "and in my heart, Serge, I thank youfor your fidelity; but my orders were that all traces of our oldposition in the Roman army should be destroyed. "

"Yes, master, " said the man, humbly, "but they wouldn't destroy. I onlykept them, and cleaned them up now and then when no one was looking; butyou know what young Marcus is: he found me out. "

"Yes, father, " cried Marcus, excitedly; "don't blame Serge. I made himtalk to me about the past, and he was obliged to tell me all about youbeing such a great friend of Caesar, and how, at last, you went againsthim and he--There, I won't say any more, father, because I can see fromyour face how it hurts you; but I got to know everything, and, when youwere busy reading and writing of an evening, I used to come and sit bythe fire in the winter's nights and make him tell me about the wars andwhat a great general you were; and so, from always loving to hear aboutrights, I loved to hear of the wars and conquests more and more, and--"

"Go on, my son, and keep nothing. I must hear everything now. "

"Yes, father; I want to be frank. It was all my doing, for I persuadedand then I ordered Serge to get me sword and armour, and made thearmourer alter a man's breast-plate and helmet to fit me, and--and paidfor it all by degrees; and then I made Serge teach me how to wear thearmour and use the sword and spear and shield; and it was all like that, father. "

"And he has taught you all this?" said Cracis, sternly. 

"Yes, father. I made him do it; but I did it all as a thoughtless boy. "

"And did this old soldier do all as a thoughtless boy, " said Cracis, bitterly, "or as my trusted servant?"

"He did it as my servant as well as yours, father, " said the boy, proudly. "I told him it was his duty to obey me, his master's son, father, and, poor fellow, he obeyed unwillingly till to-day, when hefelt and I felt, that we had been doing very wrong, that it was allworse than we had ever thought, and this was the last time the teachingwas to go on. Everything was to be put aside, and I was going to workhard at my writing and reading, as you wished, and try to think no moreabout the army and the wars. "

Cracis was silent for a few moments, during which he gazed searchinglyat his son. 

"Is this the very truth?" he said. 

"Every word of it, master!" cried Serge, excitedly. "Tell him, Marcusboy, how it was all by chance you put on your helmet and drew yoursword. I wish now, boy, it had gone through me and made an end of me, before I had to stand up like this and own all my fault. "

"What do you mean by that--the sword gone through you, Serge?"

"Yes, father. In my eagerness I made a big thrust at him, and the pointof my sword almost entered his breast. "

"Dangerously close?" asked Cracis. 

"Horribly close, father, and--there, I am glad you found it all out. Ihave no more to say, father, only that you must punish me, not Serge, and I will bear everything without saying a word. "

Cracis was silent for a few minutes, and his voice sounded differentwhen he spoke again. 

"Where have these war-like implements been kept?" he said. 

"In your big chest, master, made out of the planks cut from the bigchestnut that was hewn down four years ago. "

"Place them back there, Serge, " said Cracis, gravely. "Fasten them in, and carry the chest and bestow it where it may stand beside my bed. "

"But father--" began Marcus. 

"Silence, sir!" said Cracis. "I wish to think of all this, and notjudge hastily. Take off those unseemly weapons, which are far fromsuited for my student son. Let this be done at once, Serge. You, Marcus, will follow me to my room, and be there an hour hence. I havemuch to say to you, my boy, very much to say. "

Cracis turned thoughtfully away, leaving his son with the old soldier, for them to gaze sadly at one another as the slow steps of the fatherand master died away. 

"He'll never forgive us, Marcus, my lad. "

"He will forgive us both, Serge, " said Marcus quickly; "but what would Inot give if it had never been done!"

"No, " said Serge, grimly, "he'll never forgive us. "

"Nonsense!" cried Marcus. "You don't know my father as I do. "

"Better, a lot, boy. I've fought with him, starved with him, saved hislife; and I'll be fair--he's saved mine more than once. But he's hardas bronze, boy, and when he says a thing he'll never go back. "

"And I say he's as good and forgiving as can be, and when all the armourhas been put away as he told you, he'll forget all this trouble, and weshall be as happy again as ever. "

"You say that, boy, because you don't know him. I do, and there'snothing left for it but for me to make up my bundle and go off. "

"What!" cried Marcus, laughing. "You pack up your bundle and go?"

"Yes, my lad; I can never get over this again. I have been a servantand herdsman here all these years because I felt your father respectedme, but now he don't I feel as if I could never do another stroke ofwork, and I shall go. "

"No, you won't, Serge; you are only saying that because you are cross. "

"Oh no, " said the man, shaking his head, "not cross, boy--wounded. Cutto the heart. I'm only a poor sort of labouring man here and servant, but I have been a soldier, and once a soldier always a soldier at heart, a man who thinks about his honour. Ah, you smile; and it does soundqueer for a man dressed like this and handling a herdsman's crook totalk about his honour; but inside he's just the same man as wore thesoldier's armour and plumed helmet and marched in the ranks, erect andproud, ready to follow his general wherever he led. You wouldn't thinkit strange for a proud-looking man like that to say his honour wastouched. "

"No, " said Marcus, thoughtfully. 

"Well, boy, I'm the same man still. I have lost your father'sconfidence, and as soon as I have done putting away of our armour andweapons, as he told me, in the big old chest, I shall pack up and go. "

"Shall you take your sword and helmet with you, Serge?" asked the boy. 

The man stared, and looked at him sharply, before remaining silent forquite a minute. 

"No, " he cried, angrily; "I shall take nothing that will bring up thepast. I want to forget it all. "

"But what do you mean to do?" said Marcus. 

"I don't know yet, boy. Something will happen, I daresay; for we neverknow what's going to take place to-morrow, and I shall leave all that. "

The man ceased speaking, and began almost caressingly to straighten andarrange the various pieces of military accoutrement that he had beenburnishing, while Marcus sat leaning forward with his elbows on hisknees, watching him sadly. 

"I don't like it, Serge, " he said at last. 

"Nay, boy, and I don't like it, " replied the man. "I said just now wenever know what is going to take place to-morrow. Who would havethought yesterday that things could have been like this to-day? Buthere they are. Hah!" he cried passionately. "I wish I hadn't shrunkaway. "

"Shrunk away!" cried Marcus. "Why, you are bigger and stouter than everyou were. "

"Pah!" ejaculated the man, angrily. "I don't mean that. I mean shrunkaway as I did just now when you made that thrust at me with the sword. "

"What!" cried Marcus. "Why, I should have killed you. That sword pointis so horribly sharp. You don't know what a shudder ran through me whenI saw what I had nearly done. "

"Yes, you would have killed me, boy, and that's what I wish you haddone. "

"Serge, do you know what you are talking about?" cried Marcus. "Are yougoing mad?"

"Oh yes, I know what I'm talking about, and perhaps I am going mad. What else can you expect of a poor fellow who, all at once, findshimself dishonoured and disgraced?"

"You are not. I tell you I don't believe that my father will ever sayanother word when all the things are put away. "

"Yes, because you don't know him, boy. There, it's no use to talk. Ihave made up my mind to go. "

"What nonsense!" said Marcus. "When my father as good as said he wasgoing to look over all the past. "

"Ah, but that won't do for me, boy. I am dishonoured and disgraced, andI can never hold up my head again. "

"Oh, Serge, this comes hard on me, " cried the boy, passionately. 

"Nay, boy; it's all on my unfortunate head. "

"It isn't, Serge, " cried Marcus, "for, as I told father, it was all mydoing. It was my stupid vanity and pride. I took it into my head thatI wanted to be a soldier the same as father and you had been, and it hasbrought all this down upon you. I shall never forgive myself as long asI live. "

"Nay, but you will, boy, when I'm gone and forgotten. "

"Gone and forgotten!" cried Marcus, angrily. "You are not going, andyou couldn't be forgotten. I shall never forget you, Serge, as long asI live. "

"Shan't you, boy?" said the man, smiling sadly. "Well, thank ye. Idon't think you will. I like that, boy, for you never seemed like ayoung master to me. I'm old and ugly, while you're young and handsome, but somehow we have always seemed to be companions like, and whateveryou wanted me to do I always did. "

"Yes, that you did, Serge, " cried Marcus, laughing. 

"I don't see nothing to laugh at, boy, " said the old soldier, bitterly, as he half drew Marcus' blade from its scabbard, and then thrust itfiercely back with a sharp snap. 

"No, but I do, " said Marcus, "sad as all this is. It seems so droll. "

"What does?" cried the man, fiercely. 

"For you to talk about being old and ugly--you, such a big, strong, manly fellow as you are. Why, you are everything that a man ought tobe. "

"What!" cried the old soldier, gazing wonderingly at the boy, a puzzledlook in his eyes as if he was in doubt whether the words to which helistened were mocking him. 

"Why, look at you! Look at your arms and legs, and the way in which youstep out, and then your strength! The way in which you lift heavythings! Do you remember that day when you took hold of me by the beltand lifted me up, to hold me out at arm's length for ever so long when Iwas in a passion and tried to hit you, and the more I raged the more youheld me out, and laughed, till I came round and thought how stupid I wasto attack such a giant as you, when I was only a poor feeble boy?"

"Nay, nay, you were never a poor feeble boy, but always a fine, sturdylittle chap, and strong for your years, from the very first. That waspartly my training, that was, and the way I made you feed. Don't youremember how I told you that it was always a soldier's duty to be ableto fast, to eat well when he had the chance, and go without well when hehadn't, and rest his teeth?"

"Oh, yes, I recollect you told me it was the way to grow up strong andhearty, and that some day I should be like you. "

"Well, wasn't that true enough? Only it takes time. And so you thoughtI was quite a giant, did you?"

"Yes, and so I do now. Old and worn out! What stuff! Why, Serge, Ihave always longed and prayed that I might grow up into a big, strong, fine-looking man like you. "

"Thank you, my lad, " said the man, sadly, and with the beaming smilethat had come upon his face dying out, to leave it cold and dull. "Thenyou won't forget me, boy, when--" He stopped short, with a suggestion ofmoisture softening his fierce, dark eyes. 

"Forget you! You know I shan't. But what do you mean by `when'?"

"When my well-picked, dry bones are lying out somewhere up the mountainside, scattered here and there. "

"What!" cried Marcus, laughing merrily. "Who's going to pick them andscatter them to dry up in the mountains?"

"The wolves, boy, the wolves, " said the man, bitterly, "for I suppose Ishall come to that. You asked me what I was going to do. I'll tellyou. I shall wander away somewhere right up among the mountains, for mysoldiering days are over, and I can never serve another master now, andat last I shall lie down to die! The wolves will come, and, " he added, with a sigh, "you know what will happen then. "

"Oh yes, " said Marcus, with mock seriousness. "The poor wolves! Ishall be sorry for them. I know what will happen then. At the firstbite you will jump up in a rage, catch them one at a time by the tail, give them one swing round, and knock their brains out against thestones. You wouldn't give them much chance to bite again. "

A grim smile gradually dawned once more upon the old soldier'scountenance, and, slowly raising one of his hands, he began to scratchthe side of his thickly-grizzled head, his brow wrinkling up more deeplythe while, as he gazed into the merry, mocking eyes that looked back sofrankly into his. 

"You are laughing at me, boy, " he said, at last. 

"Of course I am, Serge. Oh my! You are down in the dumps! I say, howmany wolves do you think you could kill like that? But, oh nonsense!You wouldn't be alone. If old Lupe saw you going off with your bundlehe'd spring at you, get it in his teeth, and follow you carrying itwherever you went. "

"Hah! Good old Lupe!" said the man, thoughtfully. "I'd forgotten him. Yes, he'd be sure to follow me. You'd have to shut him up in thewine-press. "

"And hear him howl to get out?" cried Marcus. "No, I shouldn't, becauseI shouldn't be there. "

"Why, where would you be?" said Serge, wonderingly. 

"Along with you, of course. "

"Along o' me?"

"Yes. If you left home and went away for what was all my fault, do youthink I should be such a miserable cur as to stop behind? No; I shouldgo with you, Serge, and take my sword, and you and Lupe and I couldpretty well tackle as many wolves as would be likely to come up at us onthe mountain side. "

"Ah, " cried the man, "you are talking like a boy. "

"And so are you, Serge, when you say such things as you did just now. Now, look here; you are going to do as father said, pack up all thearmour in the old chest, and then you are going to speak out and tellhim that you are sorry that you listened to me, and then it will be allover and we shall go on again just the same as before. You and I willthink out something that we can learn or do, and talk of something elsebesides fighting. There, let's have no more talking about going away. Look sharp and get it over. I shan't be happy till I see you and fathershaking hands again. Now promise me you will go and get it done. "

"'Tis done, boy; I did speak and made myself humble, just as you want;but he wouldn't take it right, and you know what he said. I can't neverforget it now. He wouldn't listen to me, and no words now, no shakinghands, will put it straight. I shall have to go. "

"Oh!" cried Marcus. "What an obstinate old bull it is! Yes, I mean it, Serge; you are just like a human bull. Now, look here; do as I tellyou. You have got to go and speak to father as I say. "

"Nay, boy, " said the man, solemnly, "not a word. I am going to do mybit of work, the last job I shall ever do here, and then it will begood-bye. "

Marcus sprang up in a passion. 

"I can't bring you to your senses, " he said. "You are too stubborn andblunt. If you won't promise me you will go and speak to father, I shallgo myself and tell him all you say. "

"Do, boy; that's right! I like to hear you turn like that. Hit me andkick me if you will. It will all make it easier for me to go away. "

Marcus stood up before him, looking at him fiercely, and he was about toflash out a torrent of angry words, but, feeling that he would saysomething of which he might afterwards repent, he dashed out of the roomand made for his father's study. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

MAKING THE BEST OF IT. 

Cracis was deep in thought, seated by the open window, with the doubleroll of a volume in his hands, reading slowly line by line of the oldpapyrus Romano-Grecian writings of one of the philosophers, and, as hecame to each line's end, it slowly disappeared beneath the upper roll, while the nether was opened out to leave the next line visible to thereader's eye. 

Marcus dashed in loudly, but stopped short as he saw how his father wasoccupied, and waited for him to speak; but Cracis was deep in hisstudies and heard him not, so, bubbling over with impatience, the boyadvanced and laid his hand upon the student's arm. 

Cracis looked up, wonderingly, and seemed to be obliged to drag hisattention from the book, smiling pleasantly in the flushed face of hisson, and with every trace of anger missing from his own. 

"Well, boy, " he said, gently, "what is it? Something you can't makeout?"

"Yes, father--old Serge. "

"Ah, Serge!" said Cracis, with his brow clouding over. "I am sorry allthat happened, but it was your fault, my boy. You regularly led thebrave, old, honest fellow astray. "

"Yes, father, I did, " cried Marcus, eagerly, "and now he has taken allyour angry words to heart. "

"Oh, tut, tut, tut! Nonsense! I have forgiven it all, my boy; but hehas not yet brought in the chest. "

"No, father, I have left him packing it all now, and I have told himthat all that is over, and that when we have time we must amuseourselves in some other way than playing at soldiers and talking ofwar. "

Cracis laid his hand upon his son's shoulder and, with his face growingsterner, looked proudly in the young, frank face. 

"Thank you, my boy, " he said. "That is very brave and right of you. Itshows great respect for me. Well, there! The past is all forgiven andforgotten--nay, I will not say forgotten; that can never be. Let italways stand in your memory as a stone of warning. Well, that is allover now. "

"But it isn't all over, father, " cried the boy. "Old Serge says whatyou said has cut him to the heart, and that you didn't forgive himproperly, and that he is dishonoured and disgraced as a soldier. "

"Poor brave old Serge!" said Cracis, warmly. 

"Hah!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "I wish he were here to hear you speaklike that. "

"Oh, nonsense, boy. Time is too valuable to waste by thinking over suchtroubles as that. He must understand that I have reproved him for afault and forgiven him. "

"But he won't understand, father. He's as obstinate as a bull. "

"He is, and always was, Marcus, " said Cracis, smiling; "but no man isperfect, and Serge's good qualities more than balance all his bad. Butthere, boy, what does he want me to do?"

"I don't know, father. He thinks what you have said can never beundone, that he can never be the same here again as he was, that he haslost your confidence and you won't trust him again, and--"

"Well, and what?" said Cracis, smiling tolerantly. 

"Oh, it's too stupid to tell you, father. "

"One has to hear stupid things in life, my boy, as well as wise, so tellme all the same. You see, poor Serge, with all his noble qualities, hasnever been a man to read and learn wisdom from the works of the great. Simple, matter-of-fact and straightforward, he is not one who reflectsand balances his acts before he makes them live. I don't think Sergeever said to himself: `shall I? Shall I not?' before he did a thing, and I suppose he has not been reflecting now. I am sorry I hurt hisfeelings, but I am the master. He is my servant, just as in old days Iwas his officer, he my legionary. It was his duty to obey. Now then, what is he doing?"

"Putting the armour together to go in the chest. "

"Well, quite right. "

"But it's what he's going to do next, father. "

"And what is he going to do next?"

"Pack up his bundle, and then tramp up into the mountains to lie downand die, for the wolves to pick his bones. "

It is impossible to put in words the young speaker's tones, mingled, asthey were, of sadness, ridicule and mirth, while Cracis drew a deep, long breath and said, softly:

"Brave as a lion, strong beyond the limits of ordinary men; and yet, poor faithful Serge, what a child he is at heart! Don't tell him what Isaid, boy. That is a piece of confidence between ourselves. "

"But it's all so real, father. If you are angry with me you scold me, and it's soon all over. I forget it all. "

"Yes, too soon, my boy, sometimes. "

"Oh, but I do try to go on right, father. But, you see, with poor oldSerge it all sticks. He's regularly wounded. "

"Yes, my boy, I know, and it's the sort of wound that will not heal. Well, of course, that's all absurd. He mustn't go. "

"He will, father, if something isn't done. "

"Yes, I am afraid he would; so something must be done. Who is in thewrong, boy--I or he?"

"It's this--_I_, father. "

"Of course, " said Cracis, laughing; "but I think I am in the right. Themaster, if right, cannot humble himself to his man if he is in thisposition, Marcus. If he is in the wrong it is noble and brave to giveway. Tell Serge to come to me at once. I will try to set him at onewith me; the sooner this is set aside the better for us all. "

"Thank you, father, " cried the boy, excitedly; and hurrying out he madefor the back of the villa, where he found Serge in his own particularden, hard at work packing the various accoutrements, but evidentlyfinding it difficult to make them fit. 

"Well, I've been and talked to father, Serge, " cried Marcus, quickly. 

"That's right, boy, " said the old soldier, without turning his head. 

"I told him you were packing up the armour. "

"Yes? Hard work. The things don't lie easy one with another, and wemustn't have the helmets bruised. The shields don't lie so flat as Icould wish, but--"

"Father wants you, Serge. "

"What for, boy? What for?"

"To talk to you about you know what. "

"Then you've told him I'm going away?"

"Of course. "

"Then it's of no use for me to go and see him. "

"But that's what he wishes to speak about. "

"Yes, and I know how he can talk and get round a man. Why, if I went tohis place yonder he'd talk me into stopping, and I'm not going to dothat now. "

"Nonsense! Father only wants to say a few words more. He has forgivenyou--I mean, us--and, after he has spoken, everything will be as it wasbefore. He says it's all nonsense about your going away. "

Serge nodded. 

"Yes, I knew he'd say that, my boy. Of course he would. "

"Well, " said Marcus, impatiently, "isn't that what you want?"

"No, not now, boy. Things can never be the same again. "

"Why not?" cried Marcus. 

"Because they can't, boy. "

"Oh, Serge, don't be so obstinate!"

"No, my lad, not obstinate; only doing what's right. I can't helpwhat's done, nor what's said. "

"But don't stop talking, Serge. Father wants to see you at once. "

The old soldier shook his head and went on packing with increasedvigour. 

"Well, why don't you go?" cried Marcus, impatiently. 

"I daren't, " said the man, frowning. 

"Then that's because you feel you're in the wrong, Serge. "

"Yes, boy, that's it; I'm in the wrong, and the master knows it, so it'sof no use for me to go. "

"Oh, Serge, " cried Marcus, "you do make me so angry when you will keepon like this. Look here, Serge. "

"No, " said the man, sourly, "and it's of no use for you to talk, boy, because my mind's made up. You want to talk me round, same as yourfather, the master, would. I've done wrong, and I told him so. It'sall because I tried to make a good soldier of you, as is what Naturemeant you to be, and he can't forgive me for that. He couldn't even ifhe tried. There, that's better--you lie there, and that'll make moreroom for the boy's helmet. Yes, that'll do. Swords lie on each sideunder the shields and keep them steady, " he continued, apostrophisingthe different portions of the military equipment, as he worked veryrapidly now in spite of Marcus' words, till the whole of the war-likepieces were to his liking and the chest quite full, when he closed thelid and sat upon it as if to think, with his eyes fixed upon one cornerof the place. 

"There, now are you satisfied?" cried Marcus. "Fortunately, father isreading, and he will not notice how long you have been. You've made mehorribly impatient. Now go in to him at once and get it over. "

"I shall only want a little bundle and my staff, " said Serge, as if tohimself. "That is mine, for I cut it in the forest and shaped andtrimmed it myself. Yes, that's all. "

"Aren't you going to take the chest into father's room?" said Marcus, quietly. 

"Eh? No, my lad. "

"But he told you to. "

"Yes, boy, but it was after all was over, and I can't face him again. "

"Then you are going off without saying good-bye to him?"

The old soldier nodded. 

"And you are not going in to see him after he has sent for you to come?"

"No, boy, " said the old soldier, with a sigh. "It's the only way. I'mjust going to take my bundle and my stick, and then I'm going off atonce--_alone_, " he added, meaningly. 

"No, you're not, Serge, for someone else can be stubborn too. "

"What do you mean?" cried the man, sharply. 

"What I told you. I'm coming too. "

"Nay, boy, you're not; your father would stop that, and you must obeyhim, " cried Serge, angrily. 

"No, I mustn't, " said Marcus. 

"What! Sons must obey their fathers. "

"And soldiers must obey their officers. "

"But he's not my officer now. "

"Yes, he is, " cried Marcus, angrily; "your officer as well as my father. If you go, Serge, I shall go, and I don't care where it is. "

"He'd never forgive you, " cried the old soldier, angrily. 

"Well, I should take my chance of that. You know me, Serge. When I sayI'll do a thing I do it; and I shall do this, for I don't mean to letyou go away from here alone. Now what have you got to say?"

The old soldier got up from the shut-down lid of the chest, walked tothe corner of the room, and took his crook-like staff, to which a roughbundle was already tied, and then he stepped back to where Marcus wasseated upon the edge of the table which had so lately borne the armourcarefully spread out. 

"Good-bye, Marcus, boy, " he said, holding out his hand. 

The lad sprang from the table and made for the door. 

"Won't you say good-bye, Marcus?" cried Serge, pitifully. 

"No, " was the short, sharp reply. "What's the good? But stop a moment. I'd better go and shut up Lupus, or he'll come bounding after us and weshan't get rid of him again. "

"Oh!" roared the old soldier, angrily, and he dashed his bundle andstaff across the room to the corner from which they had been taken. "You're both of you too much for me. "

"Come on, Serge, old fellow, " said Marcus, softly, as he took his oldcompanion by the arm. "Shall I come in to father with you?"

"No!" growled Serge. "I'm going to be beat, and I'll go alone. "

The next minute his steps were heard plodding heavily towards hismaster's study, and, as he listened Marcus burst out into a merry, silent laugh. 

"Poor old Serge!" he said. "How father hurt his feelings! He'll neverleave us while he lives, but I believe if he had gone away it would havebroken his heart. Well, that's all over, and things will be all rightagain. "

The boy stood thinking for a few minutes, and then he sighed. 

"My poor old sword and shield, " he said, half aloud; "and the helmet andarmour too! Oh, how grand it was! When I had them on I used to feel asif I was marching with a successful army coming from the wars, and nowit's all over and I must sit and read and write, and the days will seemso dull with nothing exciting, nothing bright, no war in the future--Yes, there will be, " he cried; "there'll be those boys. They'll becoming on again as the grapes turn black. Yes, " he went on, with amerry laugh, "and if they come I'll make some of them turn black. Nowar! I'll make war with them, with old Serge and Lupus for allies. Andthen the winter will come again, and there'll be the wolves. Why, there'll be plenty to think of, after all. "

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

COMPANY COMES. 

"I want to go out, " said Marcus to himself, one morning, as he sat atthe little table exclusively his. 

There was a small volume, a double roll tied round by a band of silk, his tablets and stylus were before him, the latter quite blank, and thewindow was open, giving him a glorious view of the distant, sunlitmountains, while the air that was wafted in through the vine leaves wasrich in delicious odours that came gratefully to his nostrils. 

"But I can't go out, " he said; "I have all that writing to do, and thefirst thing when father comes back will be to ask me how much I havedone. And here have I been sitting for long enough and have notscratched a word. I wonder how soon he will come?"

The boy sat silently for a few minutes watching some twittering youngbirds that were playing in the garden trees, chasing one another fromtwig to twig in the full enjoyment of their life in the transparentatmosphere. 

"I wish I were a bird!" sighed the boy, and then half passionately: "Oh, what a lazy dog I am! I am always longing to be or do something elsethan what I am. But look at that, " he said, dropping into his dreamyway again. "How beautiful it must be to throw oneself off the very topof a tree and go floating and gliding about just where one likes, withno books to study, nothing to write, only play about in the sunshine, covered with clothes of the softest down; no bother about a house tolive in or a bed, but just when the sun goes down sing a bit about howpleasant life is as one sits on a twig, and then tuck one's head underone's wing, stick one's feathers up till one looks like a ball, and goto sleep till the Sun rises again. Oh, how glorious to be a bird! Ha, ha, ha!" he cried, with a merry laugh, "Old Serge is right. He says Iam a young fool, when he's in the grumps, and I suppose I am to thinklike that; but it seems a life so free from trouble to be a bird, till acat comes, or a weasel, or perhaps a snake, and catches one on theground, or a hawk when one's flying in the air, or one of the noisy oldowls when one's roosting in the ivy at night. And then squeak--scrunch--and there's no more bird. Everything has to work, I suppose, and nothing is able to do just as it pleases. That's what father says, and, of course, it's true; but somehow I should like to go out thismorning, but I can't; I have to stick here and write. There's fathergone off, and old Serge too. I wonder where he's gone. Right away intothe forest, of course, to look after the swine, or else into the fieldsto see whether something's growing properly, and mind that the men keepto work and are not lying snoozing somewhere in the shade. Oh, howbeautiful it looks out of doors!"

Marcus sat gazing longingly out of the window, and then apparently, forno reason at all, raised his right hand and gave himself a sharp slap onthe side of the head. 

"Take that, you lazy brute!" he cried. "Of course you can't do yourwork if you sit staring out of the window. Turn your back to it, sir, and look inside where you will only see the wall. No wonder you can'twork. "

He jumped up quickly, raised his stool, and was in the act of turning itround, giving a final glance through the window before he began to workin earnest, when he stopped short and set down the stool again. 

"There's somebody coming along the road, " he said. "Who's he? Dressedjust like father, in his long, white toga. Wonder where he's going, andwho he is? Some traveller, I suppose, seeing the country and enjoyinghimself. "

The boy stood watching the stranger for a few moments. 

"Why, where can he be going?" he said. "That path only leads here andto our fields. He can't be coming here, because nobody ever comes tosee us, and father doesn't seem to have any friends. Perhaps he wantsto see Serge about buying some pigs or corn, or to sell some younggoats? Yes, that's it, I should think. He wants to sell something. No; it can't be that; he doesn't look the sort of man. Look at thatsmooth-shaven face and short-cut hair. He seems quite a patrician, justlike father. What can he want? Here, how stupid!" cried the boy, as hesaw the stranger stop short a little distance from the villa front andbegin to look about him as if admiring the beauty of the place and thedistant scene. "I know; he's a traveller, and he's lost his way. "

Excited by his new thought, Marcus hurried out and down the garden, catching the attention of the stranger at once, who smiled as he lookedwith the eyes of curiosity at the bright, frank lad, while he took out ahandkerchief and stood wiping his dewy face. 

"Lost your way?" cried Marcus. 

"Well, not quite, " was the reply; "but I know very little of theseparts. "

"I do, " said Marcus, "laughing always, and have. I'll show you if youtell me where you want to go. "

"Thank you, " said the stranger, gravely and quietly; and the boy thoughtto himself once more that he was no dealer or trader, but some patricianon his travels, and he noted more particularly the clear skin, andclean-cut features of a man thoughtful and strong of brain, who spokequietly, but in the tones of one accustomed to command. 

"You have a beautiful place here, my boy, " he continued, as he lookedround and seemed to take in everything; "fields, woodlands, garden. Fruit too--vines and figs. An attractive house too. The calm and quietof the country--a tired man could live very happily here. "

"Yes, of course, " cried Marcus and with a merry laugh, "a boy too!"

"Hah! Yes, " said the stranger, smiling also, as he gazed searchingly inthe boy's clear eyes. "So you lead a very happy life here, do you?"

"Oh yes!"

"But not alone?" said the stranger. 

"Oh no, of course not, " cried Marcus. "There's father, and old Serge, and the labourers and servants. "

"Yes, a very pleasant place, " said the stranger, as he once more wipedhis dewy face. 

"You look hot, " said the boy. "Come in and sit down for a while andrest. It's nice and shady in my room, and you get the cool breeze fromthe mountains. "

"Thank you, my boy, I will, " said the stranger, and he followed Marcusthrough the shady garden and into the lately vacated room, where the boyplaced a chair, and his visitor sank into it with a sigh of relief. 

"Have you walked far?" he asked. 

"Yes, some distance, " was the reply; "but the country is very beautiful, especially through the woodlands, and very pleasant to one who is freshfrom the hot and crowded city. "

"The city!" cried Marcus, eagerly. "You don't mean Rome?"

"I do mean Rome, " said the visitor, leaning back smiling, and with hiseyes half closed, but keenly reading the boy the while. "Have you everbeen there?"

"Oh no, " said Marcus, quickly, "but I know all about it. My fatheroften used to tell me about Rome. "

"Your father? May I ask who your father is?"

"Cracis, " said the boy, drawing himself up proudly, as if he felt it anhonour to speak of such a man. "He used to live in Rome. You've comefrom there. Did you ever hear of him?"

"Cracis? Cracis? Yes, I have heard the name. Is he at home?"

"No; he went out this morning; but I daresay he will be back soon. Serge is out too. "

"Serge?" said the stranger. 

"Yes; our man who superintends the farm. He was an old soldier, andknew Rome well. He was in the wars. "

"Ha!" said the stranger. "And they are both away?"

"Yes; but you are tired, sir, and look faint. I'll come back directly. "

Marcus hurried from the room, but returned almost immediately, ladenwith a cake of bread, a flask and cup, and a bunch or two of grapeslying in an open basket. 

"Ha, ha!" said the visitor, smiling. "Then you mean to play the host toa tired stranger?"

"Of course, " said the boy. "That is what father would do if he were athome. "

"And the son follows his father's teaching, eh?"

Marcus smiled, and busied himself in pouring out a cup of wine andbreaking the bread, which he pressed upon his guest, who partook of bothsparingly, keenly watching the boy the while. 

"The rest is good, " he said, as he caught the boy's eye, "the room cooland pleasant, and these most refreshing. You will let me rest myselfawhile? I might like to see your father when he comes. "

"Oh, of course, " cried the boy. "Father will be very glad, I am sure. We so seldom have anyone to see us here. "

Quite unconsciously the boy went on chatting, little realising that hewas literally answering his visitor's questions and giving him a fullaccount of their life at the villa and farm. 

He noted how sparingly his visitor ate and drank, and pressed himhospitably to partake of more, but, after a few minutes, the guestresponded by smilingly waving the bread and wine aside. 

"_Quantum sufficit_, my boy, " he said; "but I will eat a few of yourgrapes. "

He broke off a tiny bunch, and went on talking as he glanced around. 

"Your studies?" he said, pointing to the tablets and stylus. "And youread?"

"Oh yes, " said the boy. "My father teaches me. He is a great student. "

"Indeed?" said the guest. "And are you a great student too?"

"No, " cried Marcus, merrily; "only a great stupid boy!"

"Very, " said the visitor, sarcastically. "Well, and what are you goingto be when you grow up?"

"Oh, a student too, and a farmer, I suppose. "

"Indeed! Why, a big, healthy, young lad like you ought to be a soldier, and learn to fight for his country, like a true son of Rome. "

"Hah!" cried Marcus, flushing up and frowning, while the visitor watchedhim intently. 

"I knew just such a boy as you who grew up to be a general, a greatsoldier as well as a student who could use his pen. "

"Ah, that's what I should like to be, " cried the boy, springing from hisseat with his eyes flashing, as his imagination seemed fired. "That'swhat Serge says. "

"What does Serge say?" asked the visitor. 

"Just what you do, " cried the boy, boldly; "that I might grow up to be agreat soldier, and still read and use my pen. "

"Well, why not?" said the guest, as he slowly broke off and ate a grape. 

The boy frowned and shook his head. 

"It is a man's duty to be ready to draw his sword for his country like abrave citizen, and that country's son, " continued the guest, warmly, while the boy watched him eagerly, and leaned forward with one handresting upon the table as if he was drinking in every word that fellfrom the other's lips. 

"Yes, that's what Serge says, " he cried, "and that it is a great andnoble thing for a man to be ready to die for his country if there is anyneed. "

"But it is pleasanter to live, my boy, " said the visitor, smiling, "andto be happy with those we love, with those whom we are ready to defendagainst the enemy. You must be a soldier, then--a defender of yourland. "

"No, " said the boy, quickly, and he gave his head a quick shake. "Itcan never be. "

"Why?"

"Because my father says `no. '"

The visitor raised his brows a little, and then, leaning forwardslightly to gaze into the boy's eyes, he said, softly:

"Why does your father say that?"

"Because people are ungrateful and jealous and hard, and would ill-useme, the same as they did him and drove him away from Rome. "

The visitor tightened his lips and was silent, sitting gazing past theboy and through the window, so full of thought that he broke off anothergrape, raised it to his lips, and then threw it through the opening intoa tuft of flowers beyond. 

"Ah!" he said, at last, as his eyes were turned again towards the boy. "And so you are going to live here then, and only be a student?"

"Of course, " said the boy, proudly. "It is my father's wish. "

"And you know nothing, then, about a soldier's life?"

"Oh, yes, I do, " cried the boy, with his face lighting up. 

"Hah! Then your father has taught you to be a soldier and man?"

"Oh, no; he has taught me to read and write. It was some one else whotaught me how to use a sword and spear. "

"Hah!" cried the visitor, quickly. "Then you are not all a student?"

"Oh, no. "

"You know how to use a sword?"

"Yes, " said Marcus, laughing, "and a spear and shield as well, " and, warming up, the boy began to talk quickly about all he had learned, ending, to his visitor's great interest, with a full account of histraining in secret and his father's discovery and ending of hispursuits. 

"Well, boy, " said the guest, at last, "it seems a pity. "

"For me to tell you all this?" cried Marcus, whose face was stillflushed with excitement. "Yes, I oughtn't to have spoken and said somuch, but somehow you questioned me and seemed to make me talk. "

"Did I?" said the visitor. "Well, I suppose I did; but what I meant wasthat it seems a pity that so promising a lad should only be kept to hisbooks. But there, a good son is obedient to his father, and his duty isto follow out his commands. "

"Yes, " said the boy, stoutly, "and that's what Serge says. "

"Then he doesn't want you to be a soldier now?"

"No, " cried the boy. "He says one of the first things a soldier learnsis to obey. "

"Ah!" said the visitor, looking at the boy with his quiet smile. "Ishould like to know this old soldier, Serge. "

"You soon can, " said the boy, laughing. "Here he comes!" For at thatmoment there was the deep bark of a dog. 

"The dog?" said the visitor. 

"Oh, that's our wolf-hound, Lupe. It means that Serge is coming back. "

The boy had hardly spoken when the man's step was heard outside, and, directly after, as Marcus' guest sat watching the door, it was thrustopen, and the old soldier entered, saying: "Has the master come back, mylad?" and started back, staring at the sight of the stranger. 

"Not yet, Serge. This is a gentleman, a traveller from Rome, who issitting down to rest. "

Serge drew himself up with a soldierly salute, which was received withdignity, and, as eyes met, the stranger looked the old warrior throughand through, while Serge seemed puzzled and suspicious, as he slowlyraised his hand and rubbed his head. 

"Yes, " said the visitor, "your young master has been playing the kindlyhost to a weary man. Why do you look at me so hard? You know my face?"

"No, " said Serge, gruffly; "no. But I think I have seen someone likeyou before. "

"And I, " said the visitor, "have seen many such like you, but few whobear such a character as your young master gives. "

"Eh?" cried Serge, sharply. "Why, what's he been saying about me?"

"Told me what a brave old soldier you have been. "

"Oh! Oh! Stuff!" growled Serge, sourly. 

"And of how carefully you have taught him the duties of a soldier, andtold him all about the war. "

"There!" cried Serge, angrily, stepping forward to bring his big, hairyfist down upon the table with a thump. "I don't know you, or who youare, but you have come here tired, and been given refreshment and rest, and, instead of being thankful, you have been putting all sorts ofthings in this boy's head again that he ought to have forgot. "

"Serge! Serge!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "Mind what you are saying!This is a stranger, and a noble gentleman from Rome. "

"I don't care who he is, " replied the old soldier, fiercely. "He's nobusiness to be coming here and talking like this. Now, look here, sir, "he continued, turning upon the visitor, who sat smiling coldly with hiseyes half closed, "this lad's father, my old officer--and a better neverstepped or led men against Rome's enemies--gave me his commands, andthey were these: that young Marcus here was to give up all thoughts ofsoldiering and war, and those commands, as his old follower, I am goingto carry out. So, as you have eaten and are rested, the sooner you goon your journey the better, and leave us here at peace. "

"Serge!" cried Marcus, firmly; and he drew himself up with his father'sangry look, "you mean well, and wish to do your duty, but this is notthe way to speak to a stranger and my father's guest. "

"He's not your father's guest, my lad, but yours, and he's taken uponhimself to say to you what he shouldn't say, and set you against yourfather's commands. "

"Even if he has, Serge, he must be treated as a guest--I don't know yourname, sir, " continued the boy, turning to the visitor, "but in myfather's name I ask you to forgive his true old servant's blunt, honestspeech. "

The visitor rose, grave and stern. 

"It is forgiven, my boy, " he said; "for after hearing what he has said Ican only respect him for his straightforward honesty. My man, I am anold soldier too. I regret that I have spoken as I did, and I respectyou more and more. Rome lost a brave soldier when you left her ranks. Will you shake hands?"

Serge drew back a little, and looked puzzled. 

"Yes, give me your hand, " said the visitor. "I am rested and refreshed, but I am not yet going away. I am going to stay and see Cracis, who wasonce my dear old friend. "

"You knew my master?" cried Serge, with the puzzled look deepening inhis eyes. 

"Thoroughly, " was the reply, "and we have fought together in the past. He will forgive me what I have said, as I do you, and I shall tell himwhen he comes how glad I am to see that he has such a son and is sobravely served. "

For answer the old soldier hesitatingly took the proffered hand, andthen gladly made his retreat, the pair following him slowly out into theshady piazza, where they stood watching till he disappeared, when thevisitor, after glancing round, gathered his toga round him, and sankdown into a stone seat, beside one of the shadow-flecked pillars, frowning heavily the while. 

"He means well, sir, " said Marcus, hastily; "but I'm sure my fatherwould have been sorry if he had heard. I am glad, though, that I askedyou in. "

"Why?" said the visitor, with a peculiar look in his eyes. 

"Because you say you are an old friend of his, and, of course, I didn'tknow. It was only out of civility that I did so. "

"Yes, so I suppose, " was the reply. "Poor fellow! Your man meantwell, " continued the visitor, with his whole manner changed, and hespoke in a half-mocking, cynical way which puzzled and annoyed the boy. "A poor, weak, foolish fellow, though, who hardly understands what hemeant. Don't you think he was very weak, bull-headed and absurd?"

"Well--no, " said the boy, quickly, and his face began to flush, and grewthe deeper in tint as he noticed a supercilious, mocking smile playingupon the visitor's lips. "Serge is a very true, honest fellow, andthought he was doing right. "

"Yes, of course, " said the other, "but some people in meaning to doright often commit themselves and do great wrong. "

"But you knew my father well?" said Marcus, hastily, to change theconversation. "I never heard him mention you. "

"No, I suppose not, " said the visitor, thoughtfully, but with a mockingsmile upon his lip growing more marked as he went on. "I don't supposehe would ever mention me. A very good, true fellow, Cracis, and, as Isaid, we were once great friends. But a weak and foolish man who gotinto very great trouble with the Senate and with me. There was greattrouble at the time, and I had to defend him. "

"You had to defend my father?" said Marcus, turning pale, and with astrange sensation rising in his breast. "What for?"

"Why, there was that charge of cowardice--the retreat he headed from theGaulish troops, " continued the visitor, watching the boy intently allthe while. "He was charged with being a coward, and--"

"It was a lie!" cried the boy, fiercely. "You know it was a lie. Myfather is the bravest, truest man that ever lived, and you who speak socan be no friend of his. Old Serge was right, for he saw at once whatkind of man you are. How dare you speak to me like that! Go, sir!Leave this house at once. "

"Go, boy?" said the visitor, coldly, and with a look of suppressed angergathering in his eyes. "And suppose that I refuse to go at the biddingof such a boy as you?"

"Refuse?" cried Marcus, fiercely. "You dare to refuse?"

"Yes, boy, I refuse. And what then?"

"This!" cried the boy, overcome with rage, and, raising his hand, hemade a dash as if about to strike, just as a step was heard, and, calmlyand thoughtfully, Cracis walked out into the piazza. 

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

THAT GREAT MAN. 

For a few moments there was utter silence, Cracis looking as if stunned, and a slight colour beginning to appear in the visitor's pallid cheeksas he stood gazing at Marcus' father, waiting for him to speak, whileCracis after catching his son's wrist and snatching him back, andwithout taking his eyes from their visitor, found words at last tospeak. 

"Are you mad, boy?" he exclaimed, hoarsely. "Do you know who this is?"

"No, father, " cried the boy, passionately, "only that he is a man whohas dared to speak ill of you. "

"Ah!" said Cracis, slowly, and with his face softening, as he pressedthe boy's arm; and then, in a voice full of dignity and pride: "May Iask why Caius Julius has condescended to visit my humble home?"

"I have come as a friend, Cracis, " was the reply. 

"To continue your old enmity, and in mine absence revile me to my son?"

"Revile? Nonsense!" cried his visitor. "It was by accident. I came, and found you away, and reviled you?--no! I was but speaking to tryyour brave and spirited boy. I never for a moment thought that he wouldfire up as he did with all his father's spirit and readiness to resent awrong. "

"Indeed?" said Cracis, coldly. 

"Indeed, " replied the visitor. "Only a few minutes ago I was tellingyour boy how that once we were the greatest of friends. Did I not?" hesaid quickly, turning to Marcus. 

"Yes, father, that is right, " cried Marcus. "He praised you very highlyat first, and said he was your friend. "

"My friend!" said Cracis, bitterly. "My greatest enemy, he meant. "

"I was, Cracis, in the past. In my ignorance and pride it was onlyafter we had parted that I learned all that I had lost in my separationfrom my bravest colleague, my truest and wisest counsellor. "

"And now, " said Cracis, coldly, "you have found out the truth and havetracked me to my home to accuse me with some base invention to my son. "

"Believe me, no!" cried Julius, warmly, and he held out his hand. "Cracis, after much thought and battling with my pride, the pride thathas come with the position to which I have climbed, I have mastered selfso as to come humbly to my oldest and best friend. "

"Why?" said Cracis. 

"Because you are the only man I know whose counsel I can respect, and inwhom I could fully trust. "

"My greatest enemy comes to me to utter words like these, in thepresence of my son?"

"Yes, and I am proud that he should hear them, so that he may fullyunderstand that, when I spoke to him lightly as I did, it was but totest him, to try his spirit, to see whether he was fully worthy to bearhis great father's name. "

Cracis was silent for a few moments, gazing searchingly into hisvisitor's eyes, which met his frankly and without blenching. 

"Is this the truth?" said Cracis, sternly. 

"The simple truth. Cracis, we were great friends once, and later thegreatest enemies; but in all those troubles of the past did we everdoubt each other's words?"

"Never, " said Cracis, proudly. "But there is a reason for all this--something more than a late repentance for the injuries you have done mein the years that have gone. I ask you again--why have you come?"

"For our country's sake. I have climbed high since we parted, but onlyto stand more and more alone, till now, perhaps at the most criticalperiod of my life, I have been forced to look around me for help, for aman in whom I can place implicit trust, who will give me his counsel inthe State, and stand beside me in the perils that lie ahead. Cracis, there is only one man in whom I could trust like that, one only whowould bare his sword and fight bravely by my side, and you are he. "

Cracis was silent as he shook his head slowly and turned his eyes awayfrom his visitor, to let them rest upon his son's upturned face, as theboy gazed at him in wonder and astonishment at what he heard. 

"You do not believe me, " cried Julius. "You think that something isunderlying all this, " and he spoke with deep earnestness, his voicebroken and changed. 

"Yes, " said Cracis; "I cannot do otherwise. I do believe you--everyword. "

"Then why do you speak so coldly and calmly, when I come to youpenitent, to humble myself to you and ask your help?"

"I speak coldly like this, " said Cracis, "because I am fighting hard tobeat down the feelings of pride and triumph that the time has come whenhe who drove me from my high position in Rome has sought me out to makeso brave and manly an appeal, for, knowing you as I do to the very core, I can feel the battle that you must have had with self before youstooped--you, great general as you are--to come and tell me that youneed my help. "

"Stooped!" cried the other. "No, Cracis, that is an ill-chosen word. It is that I have mastered self and cast away all pride and weakness sothat I might come to you and say: `For the sake of the old times, helpme in this bitter pass, so fraught with peril as it is'; and say, `Iforgive the bygones, and be to me as my brother once again. '"

Cracis was silent, and stood drawing his son closer to him so that hecould rest his arm upon the boy's shoulder, while his visitor stoodbefore him with his white robe gathered up so as to leave free hisextended arm. 

For a few minutes neither spoke, and from the garden there came loud andclear the joyous trilling of the birds. 

"You do not take my hand, " said Caius Julius, passionately. 

"No, not yet, " said Cracis; "but do not mistake me. There is nobitterness or pride left in my breast. That died out years ago. I amonly thinking. "

"Ha!" cried his visitor, with a sigh of relief, "and forgetting thecourtesy due to a long-estranged friend. "

"Caius Julius, sit down. You are welcome to my simple, humble home. Marcus, my boy, you can believe that all our visitor said was to try hisold friend's son to see of what metal he was made. He is a man who, foryears past, has found the necessity of testing those he would have totrust, of placing them in the balance to try their worthiness andweight. Boy, we are honoured to-day by the presence of Rome's greatestson, your father's oldest friend, then his greatest enemy, and now, inthe fulness of time, his brother once again. "

As he spoke he took a step forward with extended hands, which the futureconqueror of the world clasped at once in his own, and once more therewas silence in the room. 

A minute later Cracis drew back and motioned to his son, who, earnestand alert, stepped forward, to find himself clasped to their visitor'sbreast, before he was released, to draw back wondering whether he likedor hated this man of whose prowess he had heard so much, and stoodgazing at him wonderingly, as Julius, the Caesar yet to be, sank back, quivering with emotion, in the nearest seat. 

A few minutes later Marcus stood trying to catch his father's eye, forhe too had sunk into a chair and sat back gazing away through the openwindow at the sunlit hills. 

At last he turned his eye upon his son and read the question in hisspeaking face. 

"Yes, boy, " he said, "you may leave us now. My old friend has much tosay, and I too have much to think. Go and see that proper preparationsare made for our guest. You will honour us--No, " he continued, with apleasant smile, as he turned to his guest, "we are very simple here, butyou will be welcome and stay here to-night. "

"Gladly, " cried Julius, eagerly. "Believe me, I shall be proud, for Ihave gained my ends. "

"Not yet, " said Cracis, gravely. "It means so much, and I must have thenight to think. There, Marcus, boy, you know what should be done. Leave us for a while. "

The boy hurried away, to seek the servants, and then to make for Serge, but checked himself before he was half way to his old companion's room. 

"Not yet, " he said. "How do I know that I ought to speak?" And he drewback with a feeling of relief on seeing that the old soldier was rightaway crossing one of the fields. "It would not have been right withoutspeaking to my father first, " thought Marcus. "I wonder what they aresaying now?"

CHAPTER NINE. 

THE OLD ARMOUR. 

When Marcus went to bed his habit was to drop his head upon his pillow, close his eyes in the darkness, and, as it seemed to him, open them thenext minute to find it was broad daylight, and spring out of bed; but, almost for the first time in his life, he, that night, lay tossingabout, thinking how hot it was, getting in and out of bed to open thewindow wider or to close it again, changing from side to side, andtrying as hard as he possibly could to go off to sleep; and, even whenat last he succeeded, it seemed that he had suddenly plunged into a newstate of wakefulness in which he was listening to Caius Julius and thenquarrelling with him. 

Then his father seemed mixed up with his dream, and all kinds of thewildest imaginings came forming processions through his fevered brain. Armies of barbarians were marching to attack Rome. His father was agreat warrior and general once again, fighting to save his country. Then he was the quiet student once more in his white toga, chiding himfor his love of arms and armour; and, directly after, Serge seemed tocome upon the scene, to catch their strange visitor by the ankle withhis crook and threaten to thrash him for breaking down the fir-poles andstealing the grapes. 

From dreams peopled in this incongruous way the boy woke up again andagain, making up his mind that he would not go to sleep any more to beworried by what he termed such a horrible muddle. 

The night, which generally passed so quickly, seemed as if it wouldnever end, and when at last he did start up from perhaps the worst andmost exciting dream of all, to find that the sun was just about to rise, he sprang off his bed with a sigh of relief, dressed, and went out intothe garden to have what he called a good rest. 

His intention was to go round to the back and rouse up Serge, not tomake any confidence, but just to have a talk about the coming of thevisitor and the surly reception the old soldier had given to hisfather's friend; but, before he had gone many yards, a gleam ofsomething white amongst the trees caught his attention, and he foundhimself face to face with his father. 

"You out so soon?" he cried, in astonishment. 

"Yes, boy; it has been no time for sleep. I have had too much to thinkabout. "

"But, father--" began the boy. 

Cracis held up his hand. 

"Wait, " he said. "Our visitor, Marcus, seems to have been as sleeplessas I; here he comes. " For at the same moment they caught sight of CaiusJulius leaving the doorway; and, upon seeing them, he came quickly tojoin them, with extended hand. 

The rest of that morning seemed afterwards one whirl of confusion toMarcus, in which he could recall his father's words to their visitor, and his quiet, grave declaration of how much it meant to him to have togive up his calm and peaceful home and its surroundings to plunge atonce into the toil, excitement and care of public life. 

Marcus recalled too how, divining how they seemed to wish to be alone, he had left them pacing up and down beneath the shading vines, talkingearnestly, while he consoled himself by joining Serge, who was in asgreat a state of excitement as himself and literally pelted him withquestions which he could not answer, making the old soldier turn fromhim fiercely after telling him that he might speak out if he liked, instead of being so obstinate and refusing to trust him with what heknew. 

Serge went off in high dudgeon, while, hardly giving him a thought, Marcus strolled back towards the garden in the hope that his fatherwould take some notice of him and call him to his side. 

It was then approaching mid-day, and this time he was not disappointed, for, as soon as the boy appeared, Cracis signed to him to approach. 

"Come here, Marcus, " he said; and the boy noticed that their visitorsmiled at him in a satisfied way. 

"I am going away, my boy, " he said, "to leave our quiet little home, onvery serious business. "

"Soon, father?" cried Marcus, excitedly, as his father stopped short. 

"Very soon, boy--now--at once. That is, as soon as I can make mypreparations. "

Marcus drew a deep breath. 

"You are going to follow--him?"

"I am going with my old friend Caius Julius. "

"And you'll take me with you, father?"

Cracis was silent for a few moments, and he sighed deeply as he laid hishand upon his son's head. 

"No, my boy; I must leave you behind. I am going to take part in agreat struggle. "

"A great struggle, father? You don't mean a war?"

"Yes, my boy, I do mean a war. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Marcus, and he turned sharply upon their visitor, looking the question he longed to put, while Caius Julius met his eyesand bowed in silence. 

"You are too young, " said Cracis, slowly; "and now I want you to help mefor the short time I am here making my preparations. "

"Yes, father, " cried the boy, in a choking voice; "but I should like foryou to--"

"Yes, " said Cracis, interrupting him and speaking very firmly, "I knowwhat you would say--take you with me--but it cannot be. Now, Marcus, you are only a boy, but I want you to let my old friend see that you canact like a man. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father. "

"Then look here, my boy. I reproved you and Serge rather harshly theother day for what you had done--Serge especially, for treasuring up andkeeping in order my old war-like gear; but Marcus, one never knows whatFate has in store for us. I could not foresee, neither, for thatmatter, could he, what was so soon to come, but he did quite right. Nowthen, " he continued, sharply, "away with you at once, and get out allthe arms that I shall want, for I cannot leave here as student, but as asoldier once again. You understand?"

Marcus nodded, quickly. He could not trust himself to speak. 

"Go to my room then, at once, to the big, old chest. Stop!" he cried, when Marcus was half way to the door. "Serge knows better than you. Call him and take him with you to help you lay out what I shall require. That will do. At once. "

His brain whirling with excitement, his heart sinking withdisappointment and despair, Marcus ran into the house, striving to makeduty conquer all, his first effort being to drag his thoughts from selfand condense them upon the task he had in hand. 

"Where shall I find Serge?" he muttered. "He'll be gone off somewherein the fields. Which way had I better go?"

The question had hardly formed itself in his brain as he was hurryingacross the little court where the fountain played, when the big, burlyfigure of the old soldier stopped his way. 

"Want me, boy?" he cried, hoarsely. 

"Yes, Serge. Father is going away at once. "

"With that Caius Julius?" cried the old soldier. "I know him now. Itseemed to come to me like this morning when I woke. What does it meanthen? The master a prisoner?"

"No, Serge; he's going with him to the war. But come, quickly!" headded, as the man stood staring at him as if struck speechless withwonderment. "Don't talk--don't ask me questions. Father wants hisweapons and his armour at once. Come on. You are to help me get themready. "

The old soldier was standing before him with his herdsman's staff in hishand as if ready to go off round the farm, and, drawing himself up, hegrasped the stout crook in both his hands, bent down, placed one kneeagainst it, and, with one effort of his great strength, snapped itacross his knee as if it were a twig and threw the pieces from him witha gesture of contempt. 

"Hah!" he cried, with a deep expiration of his breath. "At last, boy!The master is going to be himself again. There, don't talk to me! Iknow! I have lain awake, boy, cursing that Caius Julius for coming hereto disturb the master's quiet life. He was his enemy always, and Icould see nothing in it but ill--blind fool that I was! I can bless himnow. Come on, boy! I know! Who was right now in keeping the swordssharp and the armour bright?"

The next minute the great chest had been dragged out into the middle ofCracis' room and the old soldier was down upon his knees joyouslyunpacking the war-like equipments that he had so sadly stowed away soshort a time before. 

They were all mingled together so as to make them fit and the greatchest contain them all, and as, taking the lead, Serge worked on, it waswith a rapid touch that he sorted the three suits, giving each itsplace, his own armour and weapons, the more handsomely furnishedappertaining to his master, and those of the boy, which had been fittedin. 

The two former portions he laid to right and left, and, as he drew themforth, he sent pang after pang through the breast of Marcus, for itseemed to him that Serge laid his father's offensive and defensivepieces of accoutrement together with almost reverent care, banging hisown together heavily, while, as he dislodged those portions that hadbeen prepared and fitted with such pride to suit the youth who worethem, they were pitched carelessly upon the bed to clash and jingle asif in protest at being looked upon now, when reality ruled the occasion, as toys and of no account. 

"Ah!" cried the old soldier, as, when he had nearly finished, he drewout from the bottom of the chest the smallest of the shields and pitchedit so that it fell upon Cracis' pillow, suggesting to Marcus that theman meant that it should lie there in his master's absence and sleep;but Serge saw nothing of Marcus' agitated countenance, for he was gazinginto the future. 

"Here we are, " he cried, as he lifted out his own and Cracis' shieldstogether, to stand them up on edge so that he could separate them, forthe loops and handles were tightly wedged together so that they seemedloth to come apart. "How soon will he be coming here for me to gird himup?"

"Directly, he said, Serge, " replied the boy. 

"Then you look sharp, my lad, and put those things of yours back intothe chest out of the way. I shall be wanting him to sit there while Ifasten some of his buckles and straps. To think of its coming to thisagain!" he cried, joyously. "Why, how many years is it since I did itlast? Why, you were a little toddling boy, and here you are getting onto be a man--man enough, Marcus, to help me and buckle on and hitchtogether some of the slides and studs when I dress myself. "

Marcus nodded, with a look of despair and envy in his eyes, while theold soldier bent down, caught up his old legionary helmet from thefloor, gave it a slap with one hand, and then placed it upon his head, to draw himself up proudly before the boy, and give his foot a stamp, ashe struck an attitude and cried:

"Burn my old straw hat, Marcus, when I am gone. This fits me again likea shell does one of the old white snails, and makes me feel like asoldier and a man again, instead of a herdsman and a serf. "

He had hardly finished speaking when the door was thrown open, and as ifimbued by his old follower's feelings, Cracis, no longer in hismovements the calm, grave student, but the general and leader of menonce more, strode quickly into the room and stopped short as the oldsoldier drew himself up motionless in his helmet, stiffly awaiting hisofficer's next command. 

It seemed to Marcus, too, no longer his calm, grave father who, the nextmoment, spoke as he raised one hand and pointed at the helmet his manhad donned. 

"What is the meaning of this, Serge?" he said, sternly. 

"Only the thought of old times, general, " cried Serge, sharply, and toMarcus the man's manner struck him as being completely changed, for hespoke shortly and bluntly, standing up as stiff and erect as before, andthen in his misery and disappointment there was something very near akinto malicious triumph as his father said, sternly:

"Tut, man! Take that off! Did you think you were going too?"

Serge's jaw dropped. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

LEFT BEHIND. 

"Not going too, master?" cried Serge, as soon as he could recoverhimself from a verbal blow which had, for the moment, seemed to crushhim down; and, as Marcus heard the hopeless despair in the poor fellow'stones, the feeling of malicious triumph in his breast died away. 

"No, " said Cracis, firmly; "your duty lies here. "

"Lies here, master?" stammered Serge. 

"Yes, man, here. Whom am I to leave in charge of my home? Who is toprotect my son if I take you with me?"

"Home--Son?" faltered Serge. "But you, master--who is to protect you ifyour old follower is left behind?"

"I must protect myself, Serge, " said Cracis, and his voice lost for themoment the hard, firm sternness of the soldier. "Your duty is here, Serge, and I look to you to carry it out. I leave you a greater chargethan that of following and trying to shield me. "

"No, no, master, no!" cried the old soldier, passionately. "I was withyou always. I followed you through the wars, and I've stood by you likea man in peace. Once my master always my master while you could trustme, and it must be so still. "

"No, Serge, " cried Cracis, sternly. "I have told you your duty and nowgive you your orders. Protect my property; watch over my son till myreturn, if I ever do return, " he added, sadly; "and if I fall, yourplace is still here to stand by my son and follow him as you havefollowed me. "

"But you will not let me follow you, master!" cried Serge, passionately. "Oh, master, master! Young Marcus isn't a suckling; he's big andstrong enough to fend himself. I've been waiting all these years foryou to take your place as a soldier and a general once again! Don't--pray don't leave me behind!"

"Serge, " said Cracis, sternly, "you have led these years of peace, butrecollect that you are a soldier still. Man, your officer has given youyour orders--Obey!"

As Marcus gazed at their old follower he seemed to have suddenly grownold. His face was wrinkled, and the skin appeared to hang, while apiteous look of despair filled his eyes as, throwing out his handstowards one who seemed to him to be delivering his death sentence, hefell heavily upon his knees and poured forth:

"There, there, master, here's your sword, keener and brighter than ever. Draw it and put me out of my misery at once. I won't say a word, onlygive you a last look like that of a faithful hound who has died in yourservice. Kill me at once, and let that be the end, but now that you arecoming to your rights again after all these weary years of waiting, andare going to fight for brave old Rome, don't throw me over as if I was ahelpless log. Think what it means to an old soldier who never turnedhis back upon an enemy in his life. Use your sword on me, master, ifyou feel that I'm not the man to draw my own again; but don't--praydon't leave me behind!"

Marcus felt ready to join his petition to that of the old soldier, buthe could not speak, only stand and listen to his father's words, as hestepped forward to lay his hand upon the man's shoulder. 

"Serge, " he said, in a voice full of emotion--"brave old follower--trueold friend, I could sternly order you to obey my commands, but I canonly beg of you as you do of me. Rise up, man, and hear me. I wouldgladly take you with me and have you always at my back, but we cannot doeverything we would. In my absence, Serge, your place is here toprotect my boy. It is your duty, and perhaps the last command I shallever give you, for the Gauls are stout warriors and it is no child'splay that takes me from my home. I beg, then, as well as order. Stayand protect my son. "

"But you don't know, master, how you may be surrounded by enemies readyto strike at you. "

"No, " said Cracis, firmly, and there was a ring of command in his tones. "Neither do I know how closely my boy may be hemmed in, and I want toleave here with the peaceful feeling that, whatever happens, my son hasone beside him that I can always trust. Your duty, Serge, is here, andI leave Marcus in your charge. Now, no more save this: Rise up like mytrusted servant. Duty calls me away, not only as a counsellor, but alsoas one of my country's generals. Now help me with my armour, for I goforth to fight. There have been words enough. Take the example of myson. He feels the bitterness of being left behind as much as you. Now, quick! We have lost too much time already. Caius Julius awaits mycoming, and my heart is burning to be free from all this suffering andmental pain. Marcus, my boy, help him. It is the first time I everasked you to arm me as a soldier. Quick, boy, and let us get it done. "

Marcus sprang to his father's side, while, heavy and slow, Serge, as herose, tottered here and there as he busied himself over a task that hadnot fallen to him for many long years, while a faint groan of miseryescaped his lips from time to time before the last metal loop had beenforced over its stud and then drawn into its place, the last buckledrawn tight, and the armed cheek-straps of the great Robin helmet passedbeneath the general's chin. 

These final preparations made, Cracis stood, grave and thoughtful, asking himself whether there was anything more he wished to do, anythingin the way of orders to give his servant and his son before he left hishome. 

"Leave me now, Marcus, " he said. "I wish to be alone for a while. Well, " he continued, as the boy stood frowning and looking at himwistfully, "why do you stay? You want to ask me something before I go?"

These words stirred the boy into action, and he started to his father'sside; but, though his lips parted, no words came. 

"The time is gliding away, Marcus, my boy, " said Cracis, sadly. "Come, speak out. You want to ask some favour before I go?"

"Yes, father, but after what you have said I hardly dare, " cried theboy, hoarsely. 

"Speak out, my son, boldly and bravely, " said Cracis. "What is it youwish to say?"

"That there is yet time, father, before you go. "

"Time for what?" said Cracis, frowning as if he grasped what his son wasabout to say. 

"Time for you to withdraw your command, " cried the boy, desperately. "Father, I can't help it; I could not stay behind here with you leavinghome for the wars. You must take me with you after all. "

Cracis frowned heavily. 

"Is this my son speaking?" he said, harshly. "After the commands I havegiven you--after the way in which I have arranged for you to representme here, and take my place in all things? Where are all my teachingsabout duty--have all flown to the winds?"

"No, no, father, " cried the boy, passionately; "but you cannot tell howI feel. You do not know what it is to be left alone, and for me to seeyou go. "

"You are wrong, my boy; I do know, " cried Cracis; "and I may answer youand say, neither do you know what it is for me to give up my happy homeand all belonging to me, to go hence never to return. "

"Oh, I do, I do, father! I can feel that it must be terrible, " criedthe boy, excitedly; "but there is no need for you to go alone. I knowhow young I am, but I could be of great help to you. I am sure I could. So pray, pray don't leave me behind. "

"Is that all you have to say, Marcus?" said Cracis, sternly. 

"Ye-e-es, father, " faltered the boy, in a despairing tone, for he couldread plainly enough in his father's eyes that his appeal had been invain. 

"Then leave me now, boy, and do not make my task harder by speaking likethis again. I have my duty to do towards my country and my home. Myduty to my country is to follow Caius Julius in the great venture he isabout to attempt; my duty to my home and son is to leave you here andnot expose you, at your age, to the horrors of this war. "

"But father!" cried the boy, wildly. 

"Silence, boy!" said Cracis, firmly. "Obey me. I will hear no more. Go!"

Marcus' lips parted to make one more appeal, but, as his eyes met hisfather's where Cracis stood pointing towards the door, his own fellagain, and feeling mastered, crushed in his despair, he moved slowlytowards the door, his heart seeming to rise to his throat to stranglehim in the intense emotion from which he suffered; but, as soon as hewas outside, his elastic young spirit seemed to spring up again, and hehurried to his room, to stand there thinking, with the resolve to makeone more strong effort to move his father's determination. 

"He does not--he cannot know what I feel, " he said to himself withenergy. "I did not half try. I should have thrown myself at his feetand prayed to him. No, no, " said the boy, mournfully, as he felt moreand more the hopelessness of his cause. "It would have been no good. Father is like iron in his will; he is so strong, I am so weak--He agreat man--I only a poor, feeble boy to be left behind to mind thehouse, as if I were a girl! Oh, it's of no use; I must stay--I muststay!" he half groaned, in his despair. "When perhaps I might help himso, I and Serge, when he was in the fight, or--oh, if he were wounded!Suppose he were cut down and bleeding, perhaps dying, and I not there tohelp him! Oh, it's of no use to despair; I must--I will go. I know!I'll appeal to Caius Julius; he will hear me, I feel sure. "

Full of enthusiasm once more, he hurried out of his room to seek for thevisitor, who had wrought such a change in their quiet home; but, as hecaught sight of him pacing slowly up and down the little inner courtclose to the fountain, the boy's heart failed him again, for he recalledthe angry passage that had taken place between them the previous day--their visitor's half-mocking words, and his own burst of passion, whichhad roused him into forgetting the sacred rites of hospitality andraising his hand to strike. 

"I can't ask him; I dare not beg him to intercede, " thought Marcus. "Hewould only jeer at me for being a boy, and put me out of temper again. But I must, " he said. "It is for father's sake. Yes, I will. Whyshould I mind? Let him laugh at me if he likes. "

Raising his courage he was on his way to their visitor's side when CaiusJulius turned and caught sight of the approaching boy. 

"Ah, Marcus, " he said; "is your father nearly ready to go?"

"Yes, " cried the boy, "but--"

He stopped short, for the words refused to come. 

"Well, what were you about to say?" said Julius, frowning. 

"Your father is not going to repent?"

"Repent? About me?" cried the boy, excitedly. 

"About you, boy? Why should he repent about you?"

"And let me go with him, " cried Marcus, excitedly, as, forgetting allhis dislike, he caught his father's visitor by the robe and spokeeagerly and well. "I want to go with him to the war. "

"You? To fight?"

"Yes; I know I am young and weak--Yes, I know, only a boy, but I shallgrow strong, and it is not only to fight. I want to be there to helphim. He might be sick or wounded. He says I must stay at home here, but I appeal to you. You can tell him how useful I could be. You willtell him, sir, for I feel that I ought not--that I cannot stay here andlet him go alone. "

"Well spoken, my brave boy!" cried Caius Julius. "Spoken like a man!So you, young as you are, would go with us?"

"Yes, yes, of course, " cried Marcus, in his wild excitement, as helistened to this encouraging reception of his appeal. "I think I couldfight; but even if I could not there is so much that I could do. "

"And you would not feel afraid?" cried Julius, catching the boy by thearm. 

"No--yes--no--I do not know, " said the boy, colouring. "I hope not. "

"You do not know the horrors of a battlefield, boy, " said Julius, fixingMarcus with his keen eyes. 

"No, " said Marcus, thoughtfully; "it must be very terrible, but I do notthink I should shrink. I should be thinking so much of my father. "

"Well, honestly and modestly spoken, boy, " said Julius. "Why, you makeme feel full of confidence in your becoming as brave and great a man asyour father. "

"Oh no, sir, " replied Marcus, sadly. "No one could be so great andbrave a man as he. "

"But you would follow us into the middle of the battle's horrors?"

"Yes, sir, I would indeed; indeed I would, " cried Marcus, eagerly. 

"I believe you, my boy, and all the more for your simple honesty ofspeech. "

"And you will prevail upon my father to let me go?" cried Marcus, appealingly. 

"I do not know, " said Julius, thoughtfully. "You say that you havebegged hard and your father says that you must stay?"

"Yes, " cried Marcus, "but you have the power, sir, and you will speak tohim and tell him that he must take me?" cried Marcus. 

Julius shook his head. 

"Let me see, " he said; "you told me that you would try to be brave. "

Marcus felt that his hopes were vain, but he spoke out desperately:

"Yes, I would indeed try to be as brave and firm as I could. "

"I know you would, boy, but remember this: it is very brave to beobedient to those who are in authority over you, " said Julius. "A goodson obeys his father, and Cracis has given you his commands to stayhere, has he not?"

"Yes, " cried Marcus, desperately; "but I was sure that I could be of thegreatest help. "

"I believe that you would try to be, " said Julius, gravely; "but, myboy, I cannot fight for you in this and oppose your father's commands. Be brave and do your duty here. Put up with the disappointment andwait. Time flies fast, boy, and you will be a man sooner than youexpect--too soon perhaps for the golden days of youth. No, my boy, Icannot interfere. You must obey your father's commands. "

"Oh, " cried Marcus, passionately, "and suppose he is stricken down, tolie helpless on the field?"

Julius shrugged his shoulders, and at that moment the voice of Craciswas heard summoning the boy, who turned away hanging his head in hisdespair. Marcus turned to meet his father, who looked at him wonderingto see him there, and bringing the colour to the boy's cheeks, so guiltydid he feel, as, with his cloak over his arm, Cracis drew his son to himto press him to his mailed breast, held out his hand to Serge, and thenstrode forward with heavy tread to join his old military companion, whowas now slowly bending over the side of the fountain, into whose clearsurface he kept on lowering the white tips of his fingers so that one orthe other of the little fish that glided about within the depths mightdart at them and apply its lips in the belief that something was offeredto it fit for food. 

Caius Julius rose up slowly as he heard the heavy tramp of his friend'sarmoured feet upon the paved floor, and took in his appearance with asmile of satisfaction. 

"You are ready, then?" he said. 

"Yes, " was the laconic reply. 

"Then nothing remains but for you to take your farewell of my braveyoung friend, your defender when I ventured to try his faith. "

"That is done, " said Cracis, gravely; "and as Rome awaits my coming, lead the way. "

"But I have not said my valediction to your son, Cracis, and it is this:Wait, Marcus, my brave boy. Some day perhaps I may come to you as Ihave come to your father to ask your help. Better still, send him, fullof the honours he has won, to bring his son to Rome. Till then, farewell. "

Marcus felt the touch of their visitor's hands and heard his words, buthe could not speak, only stand side by side with Serge, who looked olderand more bent than when he first learned the truth that he was to staybehind; but the boy had no thought at the moment but of the father whowas going away to face peril as well as to strike for glory and hiscountry's welfare. 

He could only follow the pair of Rome's great men as, side by side, theypassed out of the open court where the fountain played and the waterthat sparkled like diamonds in the bright sunshine fell back into thebasin with a musical splashing sound. 

A minute later and Cracis with his companion passed out through theporched entry into the tree-shaded road, the grave, white-robed leaderand the well-armed general with his shield, which flashed and turned offa shower of keen darts which came from on high, as he turned once towave his hand to his son. 

At that moment there was a low, deep bay, and the great wolf-dog, whichhad caught sight of his master, bounded from the shadow where he hadcrouched to avoid the flies, and, seeing the two strangers, as theyseemed to him, he leaped forward, but crouched at his master's feet ashe recognised his face and voice. 

"Good dog!" cried Cracis. "No, go back and guard all here till Ireturn. "

If the dog did not grasp the words, he did the tone and gesture, replying by throwing up his muzzle and giving vent to a piteous howlfull of protest, as he turned and walked slowly back to join Marcus andSerge, dropping at the former's feet just as the departing pairdisappeared at a turn of the road. 

Then there was a pause for a time, before the dog slunk off to hiskennel; Serge hung his head and moved away in silence towards the backof the villa and the room that Marcus playfully called his den, whilethe boy, feeling that all was over and hope dead and buried in hisbreast, went slowly and sadly to his seat in the study, where his stylusand waxen tablets lay, to slowly scratch upon the smooth surface thewords:

"Gone. Left behind. "

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

GOOD-BYE, OLD HOME. 

There was a strange solemnity about the Roman villa as soon as Marcuswas left alone. All seemed to have grown painfully still. It wasfancy, no doubt, but, to the boy, the birds had ceased to sing and chirpamong the trees, the sounds from the farm were distant, and though morethan once Marcus listened intently he did not hear Serge go to or fromhis room, nor his step anywhere about the road. 

"Poor old Serge, " thought Marcus; "he is as miserable as I am--no, notquite, because he does not feel so guilty nor ready to disobey. Heheard what my father said, bowed his head, and went away. "

And how slowly the time glided away. The hottest part of the afternooncame, when, as a rule, the boy felt drowsy and ready to have a restfulsleep till the sun began to get low; but this day Marcus felt so alertand excited that he never once thought of sleep, though he more thanonce longed to see the sun go down so that it might be darkness such aswould agree with the misery and despair which kept him shut in his roomhating the very sight of day. 

Marcus took up his stylus to write a dozen times over, but he did notadd a word to those which he had written as soon as he was alone, and hethrew the pointed implement down each time with a feeling of disgust. 

"I feel as if I shall never write again, " he said, bitterly. "Oh, it istoo hard to bear!"

He buried his face in his hands, resting his elbows upon his knees, feeling at times almost stunned by his misery, quite ignorant of thelapse of time, and so wretched that he did not even wonder how far hisfather and the great Roman general had got by this time upon theirjourney to Rome. 

"Is it never going to be night?" groaned the boy at last, and then hestarted violently, for something cold and moist touched one of hishands. 

"You, Lupe?" he said, with a sigh, as he realised his disturber, and helooked gently at the great dog, whose eyes were fixed enquiringly andwistfully on his. "He's gone, old boy--gone--gone--gone--and, yes, theplace does seem lonely and sad. "

The dog whined softly, and then looked sharply in his face again, beforeturning to the door, forcing it open and passing through. 

"Who'd ever have thought a dog would feel it so?" thought Marcus. "Buthe does. He missed him directly, and he has gone to hunt for him. 

"What, can't you find him, Lupe?" cried Marcus, as there came ascratching at the door, which was forced open, and the dog came inagain, to utter a piteous whimper which increased into a howl. 

"Poor old Lupe!" sighed Marcus. "Can't you find him, boy? No, and younever will. I dare say he will never come back here again. Good olddog!" he continued, taking hold of his ears and drawing the head intohis lap, to keep on caressing him and talking to him the while. "Whatmistakes one makes! I used to think you such a surly, savage oldfellow, and here you are as miserable as I am, Lupe. Oh, he might havelet me go!"

The dog whined softly as it gazed wistfully in his eyes, and whinedagain. 

"Where's old Serge, Lupe? You haven't seen him since father went. "

The dog growled. 

"Oh, don't be cross with him, Lupe. I dare say he's as disappointed asI am; but he will have to stay, " continued the boy, bitterly, as heuttered a mocking laugh, "and take care of the house and the servantsand all the things about the farm; and you will have to stay and helphim too. Just as if all these things were of any consequence at all. There, get away; I can't make a fuss over you now. I feel half wild andsavage. I can't bear it, Lupe. It's too much--too much. "

He thrust the dog's head roughly away, and Lupe stood up before him andshook himself violently so that his ears rattled. Then, trottingtowards the door, he was stopped short, for the latch was in its placeand he tried to drag it open with his claws, but tried for some momentsin vain. Then showing plenty of intelligence, he trotted back to themiddle of the room, looked up anxiously in his young master's face, andbarked angrily. 

"Oh, look here, " cried Marcus, "I can't bear this. Be off!"

The dog trotted back to the door and scratched at it with his headturned towards the boy the while; but Marcus was too full of his owntroubles to grasp the great animal's meaning, and, finding that he wasnot understood, Lupe trotted to Marcus' side, lifted one leg, and pawedat him. 

"Get away, I tell you!" cried the boy, and the dog barked a little, andstood barking in the middle of the room for a few moments, beforeturning and making for the window, where he crouched a little, and then, with one effort, sprang right out into the garden, while Marcus subsidedinto his old attitude with his face buried in his hands. 

No one disturbed him, and at last the night began to fall, the shadowsin the room darkened and grew darker still, till at last the boy seemedto wake out of a deep sleep, though he had never closed his eyes. 

Springing up, he went to the window, looked out at the dark and silentgarden, and then uttering a low, deep sigh he crossed to the door, passed through, and made for his father's study, to find there that allwas darker still. But he knew what he wanted, and with outstretchedhands made for his father's bed, when they came in contact at once withwhat he wanted. 

Then there arose from the place where his father rested night afternight a short, sharp, clinking noise as of metal against metal, whilethe boy quickly and carefully gathered together the various portions ofhis armour and accoutrements which had been placed there by old Sergewhen he unpacked and sorted out the portions of the three suits. 

It did not take long to clear the bed, and then, hugging everythingtightly to him, Marcus crept softly out through the darkness, listeningcarefully the while before every movement, his acts suggesting that hewas playing the part of a robber; and he thought so and laughed tohimself, as he said softly, as if answering his conscience, "Yes, but Iam only stealing my own, " and then made his way to his own sleepingchamber, a narrow little closet of a place which opened upon the court, where the musical tinkling of the water as it fell back into the basincould be plainly heard. 

In the darkness everything was wonderfully still, save that the music ofthe water sometimes sounded loud, and when the boy rather roughly freedhimself from his burden that he carried by casting the armour andweapons upon his own bed, he was half startled by the resulting crash, and turned back quickly into the court to stand and listen. 

As he did this the low murmur of voices came to his ear, making him stepcautiously across the little square court and go round to the spot fromwhich the sounds came. 

There he stood listening for a few moments, to satisfy himself that itwas only his father's servants talking together, their subject beingtheir master's going away. 

"Oh, " he said, impatiently, "they don't think about me, any more thanold Serge does. But he might have given me a thought and come and saida word or two to show that he was sorry for my disappointment. 

"But no; he wouldn't, " continued the boy, with a sigh. "I supposepeople in trouble are always selfish, and he thinks his trouble a biggerone than mine. Never mind. I won't be selfish. I'll go and speak tohim, just a few kind words to let him see that I am sorry for him, andthen--Oh, it's very miserable work, and what a difference father couldhave made if he would have listened to me--and that Julius too. 

"Caius Julius! Yes, of course, I have heard about him, but it nevertroubled me--in fact I hardly knew there was such a man in the world--the greatest man in Rome, a mighty soldier and conqueror, old Serge saidmore than once; but I never took any notice, for it seemed nothing to dowith me. Oh, who could have thought that in a few short hours therecould be such a change as this!"

The boy turned off, crossed the court again, and made his way to Serge'sden, where all was still and dark as the part of the building he hadjust quitted. 

"You here, Serge?" he cried, cheerily, thrusting open the door. "Whereare you? What have you been doing all this time?"

Marcus' words sounded hollow and strange, coming back to him, as itwere, and startling him for the moment. 

"Are you asleep?" he shouted, loudly, as if to encourage himself, for anuncomfortable feeling thrilled him through and through. 

"Oh, what nonsense!" he muttered. "Not likely that he would be asleep;he'd have heard me directly and sprung up. Where can he be?"

The boy thought for a few moments, and then hurried out towards the farmbuildings and sheds, but stopped short as another thought struck him, and he made at once for the dark building with its stone cistern wherethe grapes were trodden. 

The door was ajar, and he stepped in at once. 

"You here, Serge?" he cried; and this time there was an answer, but itwas made by the dog, which approached him fawningly and uttered a low, whining, discontented howl. 

"Oh, get out! I don't want you, " cried Marcus, angrily; and he turnedto leave the place, but his conscience smote him and he stooped down andbegan patting the great beast's head. 

"Yes, I do, " he said, gently. "Poor old Lupe! I mustn't be surly to myfriends. Good old dog, then! But where's Serge? Do you know where heis, boy?"

The dog growled, and pressed up against Marcus' leg. 

"No, you don't know, old fellow. If you did you'd be with him. There, go and lie down. I daresay he's gone into the woods to sulk and walk itoff. "

The dog whined softly, and then, in obedience to his master's commands, let himself subside upon the stones, while Marcus strolled off, stoppedonce or twice to think and listen, and then said, half aloud:

"There, it's of no use, and perhaps it's all for the best, for I'm soweak and stupid, and I daresay I shouldn't have been able to talk to himand say what I meant without breaking down. "

He drew himself up firmly, then stood breathing hard for a few moments, as he turned and gazed through the darkness in different directions, andthen made straight for his little cubicle, entered at once, and, breathing hard the while as if he had been running far, he cast off hisloose every-day garment and began rapidly to put on the armour in whichhe had had such pride. 

Practice with old Serge had made him perfect, and, in spite of thedarkness, his fingers obeyed him well, so that it was not long before hestood girded and buckled up, fully accoutred, with nothing more to bedone than to crown his preparations by placing his heavy helmet upon hishead. 

Before he began, his spirits were down to the lowest ebb, but exertionand excitement, joined with something in the touch of the war-like garband the thoughts this last engendered, so that as he went on hegradually grew brighter, adventurous thoughts encouraged him; and, atlast, taking the helmet in both hands, he placed it upon his head, drewthe armed strap beneath his chin, and readjusted the hang of his shortbroadsword, before standing in the darkness absolutely motionless. 

"Why, it makes me feel ten years older, " he said, "even if I am but aboy! And here was I, before I began, shrinking and feeling that Ishould repent and be afraid to go. And now I am like this!"

He lifted his shield from where it lay upon the bed, took the shortspear which he had leaned in a corner of the wall, and then, stiffenedby his armour and far more by the spirit that seemed to thrill throughevery nerve and tendon, he stepped out into the court, to bend down andplace his lips to the clear water in the fountain basin, drink deeply, and then stand up in the darkness to look round. 

"Good-bye, old home!" he said, aloud, and his voice broke a little; butit hardened again the next moment, as he said, quickly:

"No, it isn't home now that he has gone away. I am coming, father, andyou must forgive me when we meet, for I cannot--I dare not stay. "

There was the quick, sharp tramp of the boy's feet as he crossed thestone-paved court, with the arms he wore, and those he carried, making aslight crackling and clinking noise, while his bronze protected feetmade his steps sound heavier than of old. 

The next minute he was fighting against the desire to turn and lookback, and, conquering, for he felt that it would be weak, he strode offwith quickened pace away along the track that had been taken by hisfather and Caius Julius hours before. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

REAL WAR. 

It was all one blur of mystery to Marcus as he tramped through theforest, following the slightly beaten road. Time seemed to be no more, and distance not to count. Everything was dreamy and strange, over-ruled by the one great thought that he was going to reach hisfather somewhere, somehow, in the future, when he would reprove himbitterly and forgive him, but he would never turn him back; and, governed by these thoughts, he went on, almost unconscious of everythingelse. 

The way was sometimes desolate, sometimes grand, with mountain andforest, over which and through which the roughly beaten track alwaysled, for it was not one of the carefully constructed military roads thathis great people afterwards formed through the length and breadth oftheir land. 

The rocks amongst the mountains afforded resting places; beneath thegrand trees of the forest there was mossy carpet, upon which he slept;there were trickling rills and natural basins where crystal water gavehim drink, or places where he could bathe his hot and tired feet, whilenow and again he came upon the rude hut of some goat-herd or Pagan who, for a small coin, gladly supplied him with coarse black bread and a bowlof freshly-drawn goat's milk. 

And this went on, as he could recall when he thought, day after day, night after night, if he tried to think; but that was rarely, for he hadno time. The one great thought of finding his father mastered all else, as, still in what continued a strange, blurred, adventurous dream, hewent on and on, seeming to grow more vigorous and stronger every hour, feeling too, at heart, that he was on the right way, with Rome in thedistance, the goal for which he was bound; and once there--ah!

All was blank and confused again, but it was a confusion full ofexcitement, where flashes of greatness played up on the great city ofwhich he had heard so much, and his father and the army were there. 

There was nothing to hinder his progress, for the weather was glorious, and, each morning when he awakened from his sleep, it was with his heartthrobbing with joy and desire as he sprang up refreshed and eager withnothing to stay his way, till, on the morning of the third--the fourth--the fifth--he could not tell what day--all he knew was that it wasduring his journey--he came suddenly in a dense part of a forest, upon abig, armed figure marching before him far down the track, evidentlygoing the same way as he, turning neither to the right nor left, butstriding steadily on, and Marcus suffered a new emotion near akin tofear and dread, not of this armed man, but of what he might do. For theboy reasoned that, if he overtook this man, he might question him, findout who he was, and turn him back. 

Marcus stopped short, after stepping aside to shelter himself partlybehind a tree-trunk, to watch the soldier, whose helmet glistened in thesun-rays which played through the leaves, while the head of his spearflashed at times as if it were a blade of fire. 

It was not fear alone that troubled the boy, for the sight of thiswarrior, who was evidently on the march to join the army, sent a thrillthrough his breast, and the war-like ardour of old fostered by oldSerge, came back stronger than ever, as he said to himself that therewas nothing to mind, for they were both, this big, grand-looking warriorand he, upon the same mission. 

"He'll make me welcome, " thought Marcus, "and we can march on togetherand talk about the wars, the same as Serge and I used to before fatherfound us out. 

"I wonder whether this man knew my father? He'll be sure to know CaiusJulius, and I can talk about him and his coming to my home. "

But Marcus did not hurry on, for the dread came, and with it the horrorof being ignominiously forced to retrace his steps, while the Romanwarrior seemed to increase and grow large, till he disappeared among thetrees, came into sight again farther on, and, after a time, as Marcusstill hesitated, he finally passed out of sight, making the boy breathemore freely. 

"What a coward I am!" he cried, aloud. "It's because I'm doing wrong inleaving home as I did after receiving my father's commands. But Icouldn't help it. Something forced me to come away, and it was onlybecause I felt that I ought to be at father's side. 

"Perhaps it wasn't cowardice, " he muttered, after a pause. "It may havebeen prudence--the desire to make sure of reaching the army withoutbeing turned back. And I'm such a boy that this great warrior wouldhave laughed at me and perhaps have looked at me mockingly as he felt myarms. I've done quite right, and I'll keep to myself and join nobodytill I get to the army, where I shall be safe. "

After a time Marcus started off again, keeping a sharp look-out alongthe road as he proceeded, till, some time later, he saw afar off a flashof light, then another, which proved that the first had come from themarching warrior's helmet, and once more Marcus slackened his pace. 

He saw no more of the man that day, but, as the evening was closing in, upon the slope of a wooded mountain the boy caught sight of agoat-herd's hut, where he obtained bread and milk, and the peasant wholived there asked him if he was a companion of the big warrior who hadbeen there a short time before. 

Marcus shook his head, and soon after continued his journey, keeping astricter watch than ever, but seeing no more of the man. But he turnedaside into the forest as soon as he found a suitable place offeringshelter and a soft, dry couch, and was soon after plunged in a restfulsleep which lasted till the grey dawn, when he suddenly started intowakefulness, disturbed, as he was, by the rattling of armour. 

Marcus shrank back among the undergrowth which had been his shelter, waking fully to the fact that he had lain down to sleep not above adozen yards from where the man had made his couch, while, in allprobability, had he continued his journey for those few paces the nightbefore, he would have stumbled upon him he sought to avoid. 

There was nothing for it but to wait for a while so as to give hisfellow-traveller time to get some distance ahead, and, when he thoughtthat he might start, Marcus went on again slowly, with the result that, during that day, he caught sight of the man twice over steadily ploddingon, but never once looking back or hesitating as to his path. 

When night closed in again, the country had become far more hilly, and, as Marcus was descending a steep slope at the bottom of which a streamgurgled and rippled along, the boy awoke to the fact that the man hadbeen resting and bathing in the bottom of the tiny valley, and was nowascending the opposite slope, where, in full sight of hisfellow-traveller, he stopped beneath a tree, divested himself of aportion of his armour, and then lay down to rest. 

To have gone on and passed him would have been the most sensible thingto do, but to do this the boy would have had to creep along a ruggedpath close beside the sleeper's halting place, at the great risk ofdislodging stones and awakening him if he were asleep, while, if he wereyet awake, to pass without being seen was impossible. 

It was not the spot where Marcus would have chosen his resting place, but there was no option, and, carefully keeping among the trees, hedropped down at the most suitable place, and then lay for some timevainly trying to sleep, till at last he lost consciousness, resting andpreparing for his next day's journey, waking at sunrise in the hope thatif he could not lose sight of his unwelcome fellow-traveller, the nextnight would find him so near to Rome that another day's march would, atleast, bring him so close that there would be no more such anxioustravel. 

But matters turn out in daily life very often in a different way fromwhat is expected, and so it was here. Marcus waited and watched till hesaw the warrior rise bare-headed, but not to go on at once after donninghis helmet, but to come back in his direction. 

"He must have seen me, " thought the boy excitedly, and he began to creepcarefully away through the low bushes; but, at the end of a minute, uponglancing back, he found that the man was not following him, but had madehis way down to the little stream to drink and wash. 

Relieved by this, Marcus reseated himself to watch unseen every actionof the soldier, who had left his helmet, shield and weapons at the footof the tree where he had slept; and, after bathing his face and hands, he was on his way back, when, to Marcus' horror, he caught sight of aglint of something bright, and, directly after, made out first one andthen another rough-looking, armed man, till he saw there were no lessthan six creeping towards the spot where the Roman soldier had left hisweapons. 

Marcus thought no more of himself at this, but was about to issue fromhis hiding place when he grasped the fact that the soldier had realisedhis danger, and, springing forward with a shout, he made a dash to reachhis resting place first. 

The strange men were evidently shaken by his bold action, but only for afew moments, and turned to meet the soldier, knife in hand; but theirhesitation gave the warrior time to reach shield and sword, when, without waiting to be attacked, the men advanced upon him at once. 

Such an encounter as this was quite new to Marcus, and he stood therehidden from all concerned for quite a minute, with his heart beatingrapidly, trembling with excitement, and taking the position of aspectator, gazing with starting eyes at the party of strangers as if thefight were no concern of his. 

Strangers? Yes, they were all strangers--enemies perhaps; and then, like a flash, it struck him that these rough-looking, knife-armed menwere robbers intent upon spoiling the warrior and perhaps taking hislife. 

This flash of intelligence opened the way for another, making him seethe cowardice of six attacking one while that one was brave as bravecould be. 

For a few moments, as he watched the encounter in the bright morninglight, Marcus was full of admiration for the brave and clever way inwhich, hemmed in though he was, the big warrior interposed his shieldand turned off blow after blow. But all the same it was very evidentthat numbers would gain the day and some desperate thrust lay the poorfellow low. 

Marcus' thoughts passed very quickly in his excitement, and now anothercame like a question: You are in armour, with a good shield, a sharpsword and spear. You have taken upon yourself the part of a Romansoldier, and you stand there doing nothing but look on. 

That thought seemed to smite Marcus right in the face, and the nextmoment he was running hard, spear in hand, down the steep hill slope, toleap the rivulet and, with lowered spear, charge up the other sidetowards the contending party, a loud shout ringing out upon the morningair. 

So fully were the attacking party taken up by their work of escaping thesingle swordsman's blows and trying to get in a thrust, that they paidno heed to the shout of the boy, and were not even conscious of hispresence till he was close at hand. 

But his approach was noted by the brave soldier, just as an attack frombehind was delivered simultaneously with one in front, and it gave himstrength to make a last effort which enabled him to lay one of hisassailants low; but at the same moment another enemy sprang upon hisback, and he went down, his foes hurling themselves upon him with ashout of triumph, which turned into a yell of dismay as the boyliterally leaped amongst them as if to join in the mastery over thefallen man. 

But though Marcus sprang quickly into their midst, his spear moved farmore quickly than his feet, and he darted in to right and left two ofthe thrusts that he had learned from Serge in one of his mock combats athome when his spear had been only a short, light pole, cut and trimmedby the old soldier for the purpose in hand. 

All that was sham, but this was startlingly real to the boy, as, at eachthrust, he saw blood start, and heard the yells of pain given by thereceivers of the point. 

Those cries were auxiliaries, for they pierced the ears of those whoattacked, making them turn in their surprise to find amongst them afully-armed warrior whose arms flashed in the morning sun, as, advancinghis shield ready for a blow, he darted his spear forward at another, whoavoided the thrust by a backward leap, and, once started, dashed away ashard as they could go. Fighting men are prone to follow their leader, sometimes to victory, sometimes in panic flight. This latter was thecase here. Marcus' next thrust, delivered with all his might, comingtoo late, for it was at a flying foe, three men running swiftly, onelimping away, another running more slowly, nursing his right arm, andthe sixth, who had been struck down by the Roman soldier's sword, crawling along towards the rivulet, by which he stopped to bathe hiswound. 

It was a matter of very few moments, and Marcus had hardly realised thefact that his daring surprise had completely turned the tables, for hisfirst thought was, "They couldn't have seen what a boy I am, " when hisnext led him to turn back to see how the beaten-down soldier had fared, just in time to meet him face to face, as, half stunned, he struggled tohis knees and pressing his sword upon one of the stones hard by, used itas a staff to enable him to gain his feet. 

The next moment he was afoot, passing his sword into his shield-bearinghand so that he might raise his big helmet, which, in the struggle, hadbeen driven down over his eyes. Then it was that he stared at hisdeliverer, and his deliverer stared at him. 

"Thank you, whoever you are--" began the soldier, and then his jawdropped and he was silent. Not so Marcus, whose countenance lit up withdelight, as he shouted:

"Why, Serge! Can this be you?"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

TURNING THE TABLES. 

"Marcus, boy!" came back the next instant, as the old soldier dasheddown his shield and his sword upon it with a clattering noise, beforecatching his deliverer in his arms and holding him to his breast. 

"Well done!" he cried. "Well done, boy! Well done! Hah! Hurrah!Think of it! Six on 'em! And you set 'em running. Hah!" he panted, breathlessly, as he freed the boy, took a couple of steps backward, planted his great fists upon his hips, gazed at him proudly, and thengave a sweeping look round as if addressing a circle of lookers-oninstead of blocks of stone and trees; "Hah!" he exclaimed. "I taughthim to fight like that!"

"Yes, Serge, you did--you did!" cried Marcus. "But you are covered withblood, and you are badly hurt. Those wretches must have stabbed youwith their knives. "

"Eh?" growled the old soldier, beginning to feel himself all over. "Yes, how nasty! All over my breast. It's a long time since I havebeen in a mess like this. I felt a dig in the front, and another in myback, and another--" Serge ceased speaking as his hands were busyfeeling for his wounds, and then he exclaimed: "Yes, it's blood, sureenough, but 'tain't mine, boy. Their knives didn't go through. I amall right, only out of breath. But you? Did you get touched?"

"Oh no, " cried Marcus. "I escaped. "

"But you made your marks on them, boy. My marks, I call 'em. "

"Pick up your sword and shield, Serge, " cried Marcus, excitedly. "They'll be coming back directly perhaps. "

"Well, yes, it would be wise, boy, " said the old soldier, taking hisadvice. "Look yonder; that's the fellow I cut down, " and he pointedwith his sword to the man who had been bathing his wound and, aftercrossing the rivulet, was also in full retreat. "No, he's had enough ofit, and if the others came back it wouldn't be six to one, but five totwo--two well-armed warriors, you and me, " said the old man, proudly, ashe made Marcus' shield clatter loudly as he tapped it with his sword. "You and me, boy, " he repeated. "Tchah! They won't come on again. Why, back to back, you and me--why, we are ready for a dozen of them ifthey came. Here, I had my wash, but I must go now and have anotherwhile you keep guard over me. Think of it!--While you keep guard overme, boy! No, I won't call you boy no more, for I have made you afighting man, and here's been the proof of it this morning. There'sonly one thing wanted to make all this complete. Boy! Tchah! I can'tcall you a boy: you are a young Roman warrior. "

"Oh, nonsense, Serge!" cried the boy, flushing. 

"Nonsense, eh? Look at you and the way you handled that spear. Why, you are better with your sword, if you have to draw it, as I well know. Do you remember how you nearly did for me?"

"Oh yes, I remember, " replied Marcus. 

"Yes, I had to jump that time; and lucky I did, or I shouldn't have beenhere for you to fight like this. But, as I was saying, it only wantedone thing, and that was for your father, who has come to his senses atlast, to have been here to see, and--"

The old soldier stopped short, his big, massive jaw dropped, and hestood staring as he took off his heavy helmet and wiped his brow withthe back of his hand. 

"But I say, " he cried, at last, staring at the boy with the puzzledexpression upon his features growing more and more intense, "what areyou doing here?"

Marcus' sun-browned face turned scarlet, and he stood silent, staring inreply, beginning almost to cower--he, the brave, young, growingwarrior--before the old servant's stern eyes, and ready to shiver at thepricking of the conscience that was now hard at work. 

"Look here, " cried Serge, extending his shield and raising his shortbroadsword to punctuate his words with the taps he gave upon this armourof defence, "your father said that you were not to use that armour anymore, and I left it, being busy getting his for him to go off to thewar, lying upon his bed. It wasn't yours any longer. It was his'n. You have been in and stole it; that's what you have done. Do you hearme?" continued the old soldier, fiercely. "You've been and stole it andput it on, when he said you warn't to. That's what you've done. "

"Yes, Serge, " said the boy, meekly. 

"Hah!" cried the old soldier, gathering strength. 

"And your father said you were to stop at home and take care of hishouse and servants, and the swine and cattle, and his lands, and, assoon as he's gone, you begin kicking up your heels and playing yourwicked young pranks. That's what you've done, and been pretty quickabout it too. Now then, out with it. Let's have the truth--the truth, and no excuses. Let's have the truth. "

It was no longer punctuation, but a series of heavy musical bangs uponthe shield, and once more, very meekly indeed, Marcus said, almostbeneath his breath:

"Yes, Serge; that's quite right. Everything is as you say. "

"Ah, well, " growled the old soldier, a little mollified by his youngmaster's frankness, "that don't make it quite so bad. Now then, justyou answer right out. Where were you a-going to go?"

"To join father at the war. "

"Hah! I thought as much, " cried the old soldier, triumphantly, andlooking as though he credited himself with a grand discovery. "And nowyou see what comes of not doing what you are told. I've just catchedyou on the hop, and it's lucky for you it's me and not the masterhimself. So, now then, it's clear enough what I've got to do. "

"To do?" cried Marcus, quickly. "What do you mean, Serge?"

"What do I mean? Why, to make you take off that coat of armour on thespot. Well, no, I can't do that, because you aren't got nothing else towear. Well, never mind; you must go as you are. "

"Oh yes, Serge, never mind about the armour; I'll go as I am. Butgather your things together--that bundle of yours. "

"How did you know I'd got a bundle?" said the old soldier, suspiciously. 

"I have seen you carrying it day after day. "

"What! You've seen me day after day?"

"Oh yes. I don't know how long it's been, but I have often seen youright in front. "

"Worse and worse!" cried the old soldier, angrily. "That shows what abad heart you've got, boy. You've come sneaking along after me to findthe way, and never dared to show your face. "

"I did dare!" cried the boy, indignantly. "But I only saw your back. Ididn't know it was you. "

"Oh, you didn't know it was me?" growled Serge. "Well, that don't makeit quite so bad. But you knew it was me that you came to help?"

"No. "

"Oh! Then I might have been a stranger?"

"Yes, of course. I saw six men attacking one, and--"

"Oh, come, he ain't got such a bad heart as I thought, " said the oldsoldier. "And you did behave very well. I did feel a bit proud of you. But never mind that; we have got something else to talk about, " saidSerge, as he rearranged his armour and picked up his wallet and spear. "Now then, let's get back at once, and mind this, if you attempt to giveme the slip--"

"Give you the slip! Get back!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "What do youmean by get back at once?"

"Why, get back home to your books and that there wax scratcher to do asyour father said. This is a pretty game, upon my word!"

"But I am not going back, Serge, " cried the boy, firmly. "I am going tojoin my father. "

"You are not going to join your father, " said the old soldier, sturdily. "You've run away like one of them village ragged-jacks, and I amashamed of you, that's what I am. But 'shamed or no 'shamed, I'vecatched you and I am going to take you back. "

"No!" cried Marcus, fiercely. 

"Nay, boy, it's yes, so make no more bones about it. "

"I am going to join my father, sir, and answer to him, not to hisservant. "

"You are going back home to your books and to take care of your father'shouse. "

"And suppose I refuse?" cried Marcus. 

"Won't make a bit of difference, boy, for I shall make you. "

"Indeed!" cried Marcus. 

"Now then, none of that! None of your ruffling up like a young cockereland sticking your hackles out because you think your spurs have grown, when you are not much more than fledged, because that won't do with me. I tell you this: you come easy and it will be all the better for you, for if you behave well perhaps I won't tell the master, after all. Somake up your mind to be a good boy at once. "

"A good boy!" cried Marcus, scornfully. "Why, you called me a braveyoung warrior just now. "

"Yes, I am rather an old fool sometimes, " growled Serge; "but youneedn't pitch that in my teeth. Now then, no more words, and let'swaste no more time. I want to get back. "

"But Serge--" cried the boy. 

"That'll do. You know what your father said, and you've got to obeyhim, or I shall make you. Aren't you sorry for doing wrong?"

"Yes--no, " cried Marcus. 

"Yes--no? What do you mean by that, sir?"

"I don't know, " cried Marcus, desperately. "Look here, Serge: it is toolate now. I've taken this step, and I must go on and join my fathernow. "

"Taken this step? Yes, of course you have, " cried the old soldier, sarcastically, "and a nice step it is! What's it led to? Your havingto take a lot more steps back again. I know; but you didn't, being sucha young callow bit of a fellow. Soon as you do anything wrong you haveto do a lot more bad things to cover it up. Lucky for you I catchedyou; so now then, come on. "

"But Serge, " cried Marcus, passionately, "you can't understand how Ifelt--how it seemed as if I must go after my father, to be with him incase he wanted help. He might be wounded, you know. "

"Well, if he is there'll be plenty to help him. Soldiers are alwayscomrades, and help one another. If he is wounded he won't want a boylike you, so stop all that. I'm not going to stand here and let youargue me into a rage. You've got to come back and obey your father'scommands, instead of breaking his orders. I wonder at you, boy, that Ido. Did this come out of your reading and writing?"

"Serge!" cried the boy. "I did try hard--so hard, you don't know; but Icouldn't stay. I was obliged to come. "

"Won't do, boy, " growled the old soldier, frowning. "Orders are orders, and one has to obey them whether one likes 'em or whether one don't. Ready?"

"No, Serge, no, I'm not ready, " pleaded the boy. "It is too late. Ican't go back. "

"Too late? Not a bit. Now then: come on. "

"I cannot, Serge. I must--I will go on now. "

"You mustn't, sir, and you will not, " cried the old soldier, sternly. "Now then, no nonsense; come on. "

"No, no, Serge. Pray, pray take my side. It is to be with my father;can't you see?"

"No, boy; I'm blind when it comes to orders. "

"Oh, Serge, have you no mercy?" cried Marcus, piteously. 

"Not a bit, boy. Now then, once more, come on. "

"I cannot, " cried Marcus, passionately. 

"Then I'm going to make you. "

"What!"

"I'm going to carry you, heavy as you'll be, and long as it will makethe road. But I've got it to do, and, if it takes me a month, I'm goingto make you obey your father's orders, sir, and stop at home. "

As he spoke Serge swung his shield between his shoulders, pressed hissheathed sword a little more round to his side, and with a sharp digmade his spear stand up in the earth. 

"Now then, " he cried, and he caught Marcus by the wrists, and a struggleseemed to be imminent. 

"Serge!" cried Marcus, angrily. 

"Your orders were to stay at home, sir, and home you go, " cried the oldsoldier. "If you will be carried back like a scrap of a little child, why, carried you shall be. So give up. I'm twice as strong as you, andit's your father's commands. "

"Hah!" cried Marcus, ceasing his struggles on the instant, and leavinghis wrists tightly clasped in the old soldier's hands. 

"Well, what are you `hah-ing' about?" cried Serge, as he noted thesuddenly triumphant tones of the boy's voice. 

"I was thinking about my father's orders, " cried Marcus, in a state ofwild excitement now. 

"Good boy; and quite time. Pity you didn't think more of 'em and muchsooner. Then you're going to mind me without more fuss, and come homelike a good boy now?"

"No, " cried Marcus, fiercely. "I am going on to my father. I will notstir a step backward now. "

"What!" cried Serge, as fiercely now, for the old man was roused by theboy's obstinacy. "You won't obey?"

"No, " cried Marcus, catching his companion by the top of his breastarmour. "It's my turn now. Look here, sir; you talk about my father'scommands. "

"Yes, boy, I do, " roared the old soldier, looking as fierce now as oneof the campagna bulls, whose bellow he seemed to emulate, "and I'll makeyou obey them too. "

"Commands--obey--when I'm only going to join him?"

"Yes, that's it, my lad. So now then!"

"Yes, " cried Marcus, giving his companion a fierce thrust which forcedhim a little back so that he caught his heels against a projectingstone, and as he tried to recover himself was brought down by Marcusupon his knees. "Hah!" he cried. "I've got you! What have you got tosay about my father's orders? What are you doing here?"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

COMING TO TERMS. 

Serge was in the act of gathering himself together so as to spring upand catch his prisoner by the arms, but, as the boy questioned himsharply he sank a little lower upon his knees, and, as if all thestrength had been suddenly discharged from within him, he said in quitea different tone of voice:

"What am I doing here?"

"Yes, sir, " cried Marcus, forcing him a little more back, and fixing himwith his eyes, "what are _you_ doing here?"

"Well, I--er--I--I'm here to take you back. "

"You old shuffler!" cried Marcus, in a rage. "I can see through you. My father's orders, indeed! What were his orders to _you_, sir?Weren't they to stop and take care of his house and belongings, and ofme?"

"Well, they was something like that, " growled the man, softly; "butdon't drive your knuckles into my throat like that, my lad. You hurt. "

"Hurt! Yes, and you deserve it, " cried Marcus, growing stronger in hisattack upon the old servant as the latter grew more confused and weak. "So this is the way you obey my father's commands. You took uponyourself to go into his room and help yourself to the armour you haveon. Confess, you did; didn't you?"

"Well, if it comes to that, Master Marcus, " grumbled the man, "it was myarmour, and wouldn't fit no one else. "

"That's shuffling again, Serge, and it's no good. You took the armour, unknown to my father?"

"Course I did, my lad, " cried the man, recovering himself a little. "Hewasn't there, was he?"

"Pah!" ejaculated Marcus. "More shuffling. Now then, confess: you tookthe armour and disobeyed the orders given you. What is more, youforsook me and left me to myself. Speak out; you did, didn't you?"

"Well, I s'pose it's o' no use to deny it, Master Marcus. I s'pose Idid. "

"And in direct opposition to my father's orders you were going to followhim to the war?"

"That's right, Master Marcus, but how could I help it? Could I let him, as I'd followed into many a fight, go off to meet those savage Gaulswithout me at his back to stand by him as I've done many and many a timebefore?"

"You disobeyed him, sir, " cried Marcus. 

"Well, boy, I own up, " growled the man; "but I meant to do it for thebest. How could I stop at home nussing you like a baby and thinking allthe while that my old master was going about with swords and spearsoffering at his throat? How could I do it, Master Marcus? Don't be sohard on a man. It wasn't to be done. "

"And yet you were as hard as iron to me, sir, " cried Marcus. 

"Well, didn't your father order me to be in the way of taking care ofyou? It was my duty. "

"Was it?" cried Marcus. "Then now I'm going to do my duty to you, sir. "

"What are you going to do, Master Marcus?" said Serge, quite humblednow. 

"Make you go back to the old home and take care of it. "

"Master never gave you orders to do that, " cried the old soldier, triumphantly; "and now I'm started to follow him and fight for him, nobody shan't make me go; so there!"

Marcus and Serge remained gazing in one another's eyes, till at last thelatter spoke. 

"Look here, Master Marcus, I meant it for the best. Aren't you being abit hard on me?"

"Look here, Serge, " replied Marcus, "I meant it for the best. Weren'tyou a bit hard upon me?"

"I think not, Master Marcus, boy. "

"And that's what I think, Serge. "

"I couldn't see my dear old master go away alone into danger. "

"And I couldn't see my dear old father go away alone into danger. "

"Of course you couldn't, Master Marcus. I say, my lad, you know what Iused to tell you about enemies doing when they come to a check like--what they settled was best. "

"What, made a truce?" said Marcus. 

"Yes, my lad. I should like one now, for that bruise you've made withyour knuckles in my throat's quite big enough. It'll be blackto-morrow. "

"Get up, Serge, " said Marcus, letting his hand fall. 

"Thankye, my lad. I say, boy, I didn't think you were so strong. "

"Didn't you, Serge?"

"No, boy. My word, it's just as if getting into your armour hadstiffened you all over. My word, I wouldn't ha' believed that you couldfight like you did this morning!"

"I felt hot and excited, Serge, and as if I could do anything. "

"Didn't feel a bit scared like, though there was six of them?"

"No, " said Marcus, thoughtfully; "I never thought anything about theirnumbers, only of saving you. "

"Thinking all the time it was someone else, sir?"

"Yes, Serge; that was it. "

"And you fought fine, sir. Seems to me it's a pity for a youngster likeyou to be stopping at home unrolling volumes and making scratches with astylus. "

"Does it, Serge?"

"Yes, sir, it do; and likewise it seems a pity that such a man as me, who can do his share of fighting, should be doing nothing better thandriving the swine into the acorn woods. "

"And looking after and protecting me, Serge, " said Marcus, drily. 

"Oh, yes, of course; there was that, of course, Master Marcus; but Isay, sir, don't you think we've both talked enough for the present; Itackled you and you tackled me in a pretty tidy argument, and both on ushad the best of it in turn. I'm beginning to think that there's goodclear water coming down from the mountain yonder. "

"Yes, Serge; it makes me feel thirsty after getting so hot. "

"Then, too, I've got a nice loaf in my wallet and a tidy bit o' meat asI got from a little way back. What do you say to our making a bit o'breakfast together same as we've done before now in the woods?"

"And settle afterwards about whether we should go back, Serge?" saidMarcus. 

"Yes, my lad; that'll be the sensiblest thing to do. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, "you've talked about it, and it has made me feelvery hungry now. "

"Well, look here, " said Serge, "we are about even, aren't we?"

"Even!" said Marcus, staring at the man. "Do you mean about both beinghungry?"

"Nay-y-y-ay! About being wicked uns. You've done wrong, you know, anddisobeyed orders. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, with a sigh. 

"So have I. Well, we are both in disgrace, and that makes us even; so, of course, I can't bully you any more and you can't say ugly things tome. Fair play's the thing, isn't it?"

"Of course, " cried Marcus. 

"Well, then, as you've behaved uncommon fine in tackling those roughones, and saved my life--"

"Oh no, " said Marcus, modestly. 

"But I say, oh yes. Don't you talk to me. They'd have killed me dead, stripped off everything that was worth taking, and then left my body tothe wolves. "

Marcus recalled the words of the speaker of his wandering away up themountains to lie down and die, and he felt ready to say: "Well, thatwould have suited you;" but he thought it better not, and held histongue. 

"As I said before, you have behaved uncommonly well over that, so I'llforgive you for running away, and shake hands, if you'll agree to saynothing more about it to me. "

"Oh, very well, " cried Marcus. "I don't feel that I can say any more toyou. "

"Then I won't to you, my lad, and there's my hand on it. Only mindthis, " cried Serge, as they stood with their hands clasped, "this isonly me, you know. I lose my place of looking after you, according tothe master's orders, by forsaking my post and going after him, so Iaren't no longer holding your rein, as you may say. What I mean isthis--I forgive you, but I am not going to answer for what your fatherwill say. "

"Oh, of course not, " cried Marcus. "We have both got to face that. "

"Yes, my lad, " said the old soldier, sourly, "and a nice hard time it'sgoing to be. I daren't think about it, but keep on putting it off tillit comes. That'll be time enough. So now then, you and me's going tobe friends, and try to help one another out of the mud. That is, unlessyou think we'd better go back home together. "

"Oh, no, no, " cried Marcus. "Impossible! We must go on now. "

"Yes, " said Serge, bluntly. "Then it's vittles. "

"Vittles?" said Marcus, staring. 

"Yes. Don't you know what vittles are? Didn't you say you was hungry?"

"Oh!" cried Marcus. 

"Have you got anything?"

"Scarcely anything, " replied Marcus. 

"Yah! And after all the pains I took with you! Didn't I always saythat an army on the march must always look well after its foraging? Nocommander can expect his men to behave better than a bottle. "

"Look here, Serge, " cried Marcus, laughing, "why don't you speak outplainly what you mean? What have men got to do with bottles?"

"Oh, a good deal sometimes, " said the man, chuckling. "But that's onlymy way. You can't hold a bottle up, no matter whether it's a goat-skinor one of them big jars made of clay, and expect to pour something outof it if you haven't first put something in?"

"No, of course not, " said Marcus, who was busy polishing the point ofhis spear with a tuft of dried grass. 

"Well, men's the same as bottles; if you don't give them plenty to eatand drink you can't get plenty of fighting out of them. Always see toyour foraging when you are on the march. I always do, and I have gotsomething ready for us both now. But look here, my lad, this isn't athome, and I'm not going to drive out the swine, and you are not going toyour wax table. We are soldiering now, and whether it's two thousand oronly two, things are just the same. We have got to keep a sharplook-out for the enemy. "

"You didn't, " said Marcus, quickly, "or you would have seen me followingyou. "

"That's right, " said Serge, "and it was because I could think of nothingelse but about being such a bad un as I was and forsaking my post. Idursen't look back either, for fear that I should see someone followingme. But that's all over now; you and me's joined forces, and we must goon straight. I don't think it's necessary, but we will just take a lookround for danger before we sit down to enjoy our breakfast. "

"Enjoy?" said Marcus, dubiously. 

"Yes, that's right. We shall both have company over it. It's beenprecious dull to me, being all alone. So now then; take the lead, captain, and give the orders to advance for a scout all round before wesit down to our meal. "

"Very well, then, " cried Marcus. "Forward! This way first. "

"Yes, but that's too much of it, " said the old soldier. "A commandingofficer don't make speeches to his men 'cept when he's going intoaction, and not always then. What you ought to have said was just`forward!' and then advanced with your troops to follow you. "

Marcus nodded and smiled, and, side by side and spear in hand, theyclimbed to the highest ground, carefully surveying their surroundings ofwood and rock--every place, in fact, likely to give harbour to an enemy, till all at once Marcus threw out his left arm across his companion'sbreast, and, stopping short, stood pointing with his spear to somethinghalf hidden behind a patch of bushes upon the other side of the stream. 

Serge sheltered his eyes on the instant, and gave a satisfied nod. 

"Right, captain, " he whispered; "but your force isn't strong enough tosurround the enemy. You must advance in line. It's an ambuscade. "

The half-concealed figure was nearly a hundred yards away, and, by thetime they had covered half the distance, Marcus' keen young eyes sent amessage to his brain, and he whispered to his companion in anawe-stricken voice:

"It's that wounded man. He has lain down to die. "

The old soldier uttered a low grunt, and sheltered his eyes again. 

"Looks like it, " he said, "but we had best make sure. Tell your men tolevel their spears and advance at a run. Dead men are dangeroussometimes. "

Recalling the lesson he had just received, Marcus lowered his spear anduttered the one word:

"Advance!"

They broke into a sharp trot, straight for the horrible-looking, stiffened figure which lay crouched together in an unnatural attitudejust behind a bush; but, before they were half way, there was a quickmovement, a sharp rustling of leaves, and the dead man had sprung up andwas running as swiftly as a deer. 

Marcus stared in astonishment, looking so surprised that Serge loweredthe butt of his spear and rested upon its shaft in his familiar homeattitude when the staff he carried was terminated by a crook instead ofa keenly-pointed blade. 

"There, you see, my lad. That's the sort of dead man you have got tobeware of after a fight. They are a very dangerous sort; like thatfellow, they are crippled a bit, but they won't stop to be buried. Theydon't like the idea. What they do is to play sham till their enemy hasmarched by 'em, thinking they are real, and then when some poor fellowis looking forward, one of them dead barbarians lets him have it in theback. There, we will go and sit up on the top there, and I'll lean upagainst your back, and you shall lean up against mine while we eat ourbreakfast and are busy with our teeth, and leave our four eyes to playwatchful sentry till we've done. "

Marcus felt quite willing now that the excitement caused by the flyingfoe was at an end, and, soon after, Serge's little store was drawn upon, and, quite happy and contented, the two old companions made what Marcusthought was the most appetising breakfast he had ever had in his life. 

"Hah!" cried Serge, as they rose at last. "Now let's go down to thestream for a drink. Always camp, my lad, beside a river or a lake; andif you can't--" He stopped short. 

"Well, if you can't?" said Marcus. 

"Why, then you must go thirsty, same as you must go hungry toosometimes. Didn't I always teach you that a soldier's first duty was tolearn how to fast?"

"Oh, yes, I remember, " said Marcus, as he lay down to drink, while hiscompanion watched, and then drank in turn, rising to say, as he drew along, deep breath:

"There, that's as much as I want now. Nice clear water, and we've leftplenty for the next as comes. But a deal of trouble I used to have inthe face of plenty to make you believe it was a soldier's duty to learnhow to fast. You always were the hungriest boy I ever knew. "

Marcus laughed, and looked wonderingly at his companion, who now stoodup stiffly with his hands resting upon his spear. 

"Well, Serge, what now?" cried Marcus. 

"Only waiting, captain. Orders to advance. "

"Forward!" cried Marcus; and, the next minute, with eyes eagerlyscanning the track in front, they were marching together side by side onthe way to Rome. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

WEARING ARMOUR. 

It was some hours afterwards, when the sun was beating down hotly, thatSerge suggested that they should have half an hour's rest in the shadeof a clump of huge, spiral-barked chestnuts, whose dark, glossy-greenleaves were spread over a bend of the track which had evidently beenslightly diverted so that those who followed it might take advantage ofthe shade. 

The trees were approached cautiously, and the pair scouted round theclump to make sure it was untenanted before they stretched themselvesamongst the mossy, radiating roots that spread far and wide. 

"There seem to have been plenty of people here, " said Marcus, pointingto where the soft, moist earth was full of imprints. "There have beenwheeled carriages here. "

"Yes, " grunted Serge. "Those are ox waggons. See?"

"Yes, " said Marcus. "But those others are different. "

"Yes, " said Serge. "Chariot wheels, those. "

"How do you know?" said Marcus, sharply. 

"Look at 'em, " grunted the old soldier. "Can't you see they are light?They are made to gallop. Those others were made to crawl. Why, it'sprinted all about that they were chariot wheels. Look at the marks ofthe horses' hoofs. "

"Oh yes, I see, " cried Marcus. "The waggons show nothing but the feetof oxen. But how come there to be chariot wheels about here?"

"How did that Roman general, Caius Julius, come to the farm?"

"I don't know, " said Marcus, starting. "I never thought of that. "

"I did, " said Serge, with a grunt which might have been copied from oneof the swine he had so often driven. 

"How did he come?" cried Marcus. 

"Same way as he went back to Rome. "

"Of course, " cried the boy, impatiently. "But how was that?"

"With chariots and horsemen. "

"Are you sure? I saw none. "

"Didn't go down to the village to look?"

"No; I had too much to think of. "

"So had I, " said Serge; "but I went and looked all the same. There wasa grand chariot and a lot of horsemen, and it was in that chariot that, after walking down to the village, the master went away. "

"Oh, then they must be far ahead, " cried Marcus. 

"Yes; at Rome before now. "

"And I have been expecting that we might come upon them at any moment, "said Marcus, with a sigh of relief. "Then we shan't see them till weget there?"

"And like enough not then, " said Serge, with a grim smile; "so you maymake yourself comfortable about this scolding that's got to come, for itwon't be yet. "

"But we shall see my father as soon as we get to the army. "

"Some time perhaps, " said Serge; "but the army will be miles longperhaps on the march, and it's hard work, boy, to find one in a hundredthousand men. "

"Then we may not find him!" cried Marcus, in an agonised tone. 

"Well, no, my lad, but you may make your mind happy about that. Oneman's not bound to find his general, but his general's pretty sure tofind him, or the legion he is in. There, don't you fidget about that. If you and me hadn't done any harm we should be pretty safe, but so sureas one does what one ought not to do, one may make up one's mind thathe'll be found out. "

The rest was pleasant, but Marcus did not feel so satisfied in his ownmind when they started once again on the tramp. 

It was on the evening of a hot and wearying day that Marcus sat in ashady grove, gladly resting, while Serge was relieving him of his armourand carefully hanging it piece by piece from, one or other of thebranches by which they were surrounded. 

"Grand thing, armour, " said the old soldier, as he watched the tired boyfrom the corners of his eyes. 

Marcus started from a waking dream of Rome and its glories as hepictured it in his own mind. 

"Oh yes, " he said, hastily; "glorious!"

"Nice and bright and shining, and makes a man seem worth looking at whenit's on, eh?"

"Yes, " said Marcus, with a faint sigh. 

"How proud you felt when you'd got yours; eh, my lad?"

"Yes, very, " said Marcus. 

"Nice dress to walk in. "

"But it's rather heavy in this hot weather, " ventured Marcus. 

"Heavy, boy? Why, of course it is. If it wasn't heavy the barbarians'swords and spears would go through it as if it was sheep skin. Butyours fits you beautifully, and will for ever so long yet--if you don'tgrow, " added the man, slily. 

Marcus turned upon him peevishly. 

"Well, I can't help growing, can I?" he cried. 

"Oh no, boy; course you can't till you've done growing, and then youwon't grow any more. "

"Do you think I don't know that?" snapped out the boy. 

"No. Oh no; but what's the matter with your shoulder?"

"Nothing much, " said Marcus, sourly. "Those shoulder straps rub thatone, and the back part frets my neck. "

"Does it? That's bad; but I'll put that right when you put it on in themorning. Don't you mind about that: after a bit your skin'll get hard, and what feels to worry and rub you will be soft as a duck's breast. "

"Nonsense! How can bronze and brass get to be soft as feathers, Serge?"

"Oh, I dunno, my lad, " replied the old soldier, slowly, "but it do. Isuppose, " he added, mockingly, "you get so much glory on your shouldersthat it pads you out and makes your armour fit like wax. It is heavy, though, at first. Mine worried me the first day, because I hadn't wornit for years; but it sits lovely now, and I could run and jump and doanything. Helmet too did feel a bit lumpy; but I felt it more in mytoes than on my head. "

"Are you laughing at me, Serge?" cried Marcus, turning upon the man, sharply. 

"Can't you see I'm not, boy? Why, I'm as serious as a centurion with anew command. "

"But do you think I'm going to believe that you felt your heavy helmetin your toes?"

"Of course I do, boy, " said the man, chuckling. "If it's heavy, don'tthe weight go right down to the bottom and drive your toes hard to thevery end of your sandals?"

"I didn't think of that, Serge, " said the boy, a trifle less irritably. 

"S'pose not, boy. You haven't got to the end of everything that thereis to know. Besides, your helmet is light. "

"Light?" cried Marcus, bitterly. 

"Well, of course it aren't as light as a straw hat as you can tilt offevery time you come into the shade, and let it hang between yourshoulders, same as you do your shield. "

"And I suppose that is?" said Marcus, sharply. 

"What, as a straw hat, boy? Well, I don't say that, " said Serge, drily, "because it do weigh a tidy bit. But that helmet of yours, as I tookcare should be just right for a boy, is too light altogether. "

"Bah!" cried Marcus. "Why, it has made my forehead and the back justbehind my ears as sore as sore. "

"Pooh! That isn't because the helmet's too heavy; it's on account ofyour head being so soft and green. It'll be hard enough before the endof this war. Why, if it were lighter, every crack you got in your firstfight would make it give way like an eggshell; and then where would yoube, my lad? Come, come, cheer up! You're a bit tired with this tramp--the first big one you've had. You'll be better in the morning, andbefore this time to-morrow night I dare say we shall be in sight of Romeand its hills and the Tiber, and, take my word for it, you won't feeltired then. "

"Think not. Serge?"

"Sure of it, boy. Man who's a bit worn out feels as if everything'swrong, and the flies that come buzzing about seem to be as big as crows;but after a good sleep when the sun rises again to make everything lookbright, he sees clearer; the flies don't seem to buzz, only hum pleasantlike, and what there is of them is golden-green and shiny, and not a bitbigger than a fly should be. "

"But I'm disappointed, Serge. I hoped to see my father as soon as Ireached Rome, and get this trouble off my mind. "

"Instead of which it has to wait. Well, never mind, lad. It will beeasier perhaps then. Now then, you do as I say: lie down at once closeup there to that dry, sandy bit, and sleep as hard as you can tillmorning. Then we'll set off and get to Rome as soon as we can, and hearabout the army and which way it has gone. "

"Perhaps it will not have started yet?" said Marcus, eagerly. 

"Like as not, my lad, but, if it has, we can follow it up. Now then, besharp, for I want to lie down too. We shall be fresh as the fieldflowers in the morning, for no one is likely to disturb us here. "

Marcus said nothing, for he knew that the old soldier's words were meantto encourage him, and he thought so more than ever, as, free now fromhis heavy armour, he lay looking upward, listening to the faint hum ofbeetles and seeing the glint of the stars through the trees, while hethought of their journey and the disappointment he felt over Serge'swords, while it seemed to him all a part of his thinking instead of adream--a confused dream when he fancied himself back at the old houseseeking for Serge and finding the dog crouched down in the shed wherethe great stone cistern stood, and in the harvest time the grapes weretrodden, those grown in their little vineyard and those from theneighbouring farms where there was no convenience of the kind. 

But as he was about to turn away and fasten the door, it seemed strangethat the place should be lit up by sunshine coming aslant through thetrees, when it was late in the evening and dark. But so it was, withLupe couching down, making no attempt to follow or pass him as he closedthe door, but resting his long, fierce-looking jaws upon his extendedpaws, till, after trying hard to puzzle out why it was so, Marcus camefully to his waking senses and sat up suddenly, while Lupe followed hisexample, to burst out into a deep, joyous bark. 

"What!" now came in a deep voice from behind Marcus. "Why, Lupe, dog, have you found your way here?"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

THE NEW RECRUIT. 

The dog had been lying for hours watching the sleepers, who had lainperfectly unconscious of the presence of such a sentry and guardian, while he had crouched there with his muzzle almost touching Marcus'breast, pricking up his ears at the slightest sound made by somenocturnal food-seeking creature, and uttering a low sigh of content ashe settled himself down again. 

Several times over he had heard some sound which he could notunderstand, and upon these occasions he sprang up, smothering the lowgrowl that tried for exit, and seeming to understand the necessity forcaution, he began to reconnoitre in the direction from which thesuspicious noise had come. 

Had anybody been there to watch the dog, what they had seen would haveexcited wonder at the amount of reason that the animal displayed; notthat Lupe, big wolf-hound, one of the kind kept by the peasantry in thefar-back past for the protection of their flocks, was anythingexceptional, for plenty of dogs at the present time are ready to displayan instinct that is almost human. 

Point out some very human act, and there are plenty who will tell youeither that it is the result of teaching, or that it has come naturallyfrom the dog's long continued intercourse with man. One ventures tothink that it is something more than teaching that makes a shut-out dogwait till he sees what he considers to be a suitable stranger whom hehas never seen before, and then trot up to him and begin to gambol andlead him on till the gate or door is reached, stopping short then andsaying as plainly as a dog can speak in barks--not the most expressivelanguage in the world--Open it and let me in. 

Lupe was evidently a dog that could reason in his way, and attributingtwo of these interruptions of the night to the presence of wolves thathad come prowling down from the hills, he set off cautiously, with thethick, dense hair bristling up about his neck, his armour against hisdeadly enemy's teeth, and his black gums retiring to display histrap-like jaws full of glistening ivory teeth. And all the time, inspite of his efforts, there was a low, deep sound like young thunderrumbling somewhere in his chest. 

But in each case, before he had gone far, Lupe's reason told him thathis natural enemies did not come prowling down from the mountains duringthe soft summer nights, but waited till their hunger was sharpened bythe frosts of winter, and that he was over-anxious regarding the safetyof those he had come so far to find, judging rightly that the sounds hehad heard and magnified were only caused by some innocent little animalwhich did not smell in the least like a wolf. So he trotted slowlyback, making sounds suggestive of mutterings against his own stupidity, and dropped quietly down once more to watch. 

"Why, Serge, " cried Marcus, "how could that dog manage to find us allthis distance from home?"

"I dunno, " said the old soldier, stooping down to caress thesavage-looking beast in his customary way, which was to bang him heavilyon both shoulders with his great, horny hand, the blows given being suchas would have made an ordinary dog howl; but their effect upon Lupe wasto make him half close his eyes, open his wide jaws, and loll out hislong, lambent tongue, which curled up at the end; and, as it quivered inthe fresh morning light, he rolled over upon his back and began pattingplayfully at Serge's hand. 

"Don't knock him about like that, Serge, " cried Marcus. 

"Knock him about?" cried the old soldier. "Why, he likes it; it loosenshis skin and makes it fit easy, and knocks out the dust. How did hemanage to find his way here? Ask him. I dunno. I left him at home, yelping about and uneasy like, looking as if he'd like to go at thegeneral and tear his toga off his back. "

"I left him, " cried Marcus, "hunting all over the place to find you. Hecame twice over into my room, whining and asking me where you were. "

"Did he?" cried Serge. "Good old dog!" And he gave the animal a fewmore of his tender caresses, with the result that the dog wriggledhimself along snake-like fashion upon his spine, and then made a playfuldab at his friend's hand. 

"I found him at last, " continued Marcus, "in the press-house, and when Icame away I shut him up. "

"What, to starve?"

"No, no; I thought he would howl till someone came and let him out; butI didn't want him to follow me. Someone must have let him out in themorning. "

"Oh, I don't know, " said Serge, who began replacing his armour. "He'dhave got out somehow, through the window or roof. "

"He couldn't, " cried Marcus. 

"Think not? Then he'd have scratched a way for himself under the door. "

"Well, but then?"

"Oh, then--he'd have stood and smelt about till he'd got hold of ourscent, and then come on. "

"What, all this way and all this time? The scent couldn't have lain solong. "

"It never seems to me that there's any scent at all, " said Serge, "butold Lupe there somehow seems to do it. He _is_ a dog, and no mistake. Why, he's lost himself time after time going after the wolves when Ihave been out hunting, and it has seemed to me that I should never findhim again. Why, you know, he's been away sometimes for days, but he'salways found his way back. Well, now then, give yourself your orders toget ready to march, and let's get on to Rome. "

"Yes, of course, " cried Marcus. 

"But how do you feel, lad? You seemed ready to knock up last night, tired out. "

"Did I?" cried Marcus, flushing slightly. 

"Did yer? Why, you seemed sore all over, whining about your armour andyour helmet. "

"Oh, nonsense!" cried the boy, as he hastily followed his companion'slead, handily buckling and securing his defensive armour the while. "Wehad had a very long march, and it was as hot as could be. I feel quitefresh this morning. "

"Ready for anything, eh? Well, what about this chap?"

"Lupe?"

"Yes; we don't want him. The general won't want him to join. "

"No-o, " said Marcus, thoughtfully, as he stooped to pat the dog's head, a favour which Lupe responded to by leaning himself as hard as he couldagainst his young master's legs. "I should like to have him with us, Serge. "

"So should I, boy, if it comes to that. He'd have been splendid withus, and saved us scouting when those rough uns were hanging round. Why, if I had had him with me when those six came on they would have been noworse than three, and I shouldn't have wanted you. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, thoughtfully, "I should like to keep him with us, but I'm afraid we shall have to send him away. "

"Send him away!" cried Serge. "You may try to send, but he won't go. We can't take him with us, " continued the man, drily, "and it looks tome as if we shall have to make an end of him and hang him on the nearesttree. "

"What!" cried Marcus with a look of horror. "You wouldn't be such abrute?"

"No, " said Serge, slowly, "I suppose I wouldn't; but what are we to do?The first captain that we speak to when we get to the army and ask himto let us join his lot will shake his head at us if we bring a dog. "

"Yes, I suppose so, " said Marcus, thoughtfully. 

"But look here, we wouldn't bring him. We didn't bring him. He came. The country's free for all, and if he chooses to follow us we are not toblame. "

"Well, that's right. Are you nearly ready?"

"Yes, " said Marcus, taking his helmet from where it rested in the forkof a young tree, and lowering it slowly upon his head. 

"Does it hurt?" said Serge. 

"Oh no, it feels quite comfortable now. Why?"

"Because you put it on as if it were red hot. But give the word`forward, ' captain, and let's march. The first farm or house we come towe must halt and forage. My wallet's empty, and we want something verymuch better than water for our next meal. "

"Forward, then!" cried Marcus, and the dog responded with a volley ofhis deep barking, and bounded off before them, old Serge smiling grimlythe while. 

"Got his nose straight for Rome, " he said, with a laugh. "Why, if I wasa general, Master Marcus, and going to lead our armies against thebarbarians as won't let us alone but keep on attacking and wanting tocome to plunder the riches of the place, and carry the Roman people offas slaves, do you know what I'd do?"

"Beat them and drive them back, and make them slaves instead, " repliedMarcus. 

"Ah, but besides that, my lad, I'd get together an army of dogs like ourLupe, and set them to work to tear 'em down and chase 'em away. "

"Oh, barbarous!" cried Marcus, laughing. 

"Barbarous! Aren't they barbarians? Why, I don't believe you couldmanage it in a better way. "

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

TOO LATE. 

It was the beginning of a tramp that lasted days. 

Rome had been soon reached, but they were too late to witness theturmoil of excitement that had preceded and accompanied the departure ofthe last division of the army which, Marcus and his companion gatheredfrom a group of invalided soldiers left behind, had been tarrying andawaiting the return of Caius Julius to assume the supreme command. He, they were told, had been away upon a mission to claim the assistance ofsome great general who was supposed to be an old friend full of wisdom;and he, they told Serge, had been brought in triumph to the city, toplace himself with Julius at the head of the waiting men. 

"You should have been here then, " said one old man, "and seen thewelcome they had from our gallant boys and the women who crowded thestreets waiting to see them go. Ah, it made the tears come into my oldeyes to think that I should be left behind. "

"Then why were you left behind?" growled Serge. "You are not an olderman than I. "

"No, " said the old soldier, laughing softly, "but you have two legs tomarch on. I have only one and this stick. "

Marcus glanced sharply down at the speaker, and, seeing the boy'sintention, the old fellow laughed again. 

"Oh, yes, you are thinking I lie. There's two of them, my lad, andone's as good a leg as ever stepped; but as for the other, it's yearsago now, when I was with Julius, and I got a swoop from a Gallic sword;the savage ducked down as I struck at him, and brought his blade roundto catch me just above the heel. But he never made another blow, "continued the old man, grimly. "My short, sharp sword took him in thechest, and he never hurt a Roman again. "

"But you got over your wound?" cried Marcus, eagerly. 

"It soon healed up, my lad, but he had cut through the tendon, and I wasnever fit to march again, or I shouldn't be talking to you here. Butlook here, old fellow, you were ready enough to twit me about not beingwith the army. Why are you not there?"

"Can't you see we are too late?" growled Serge, angrily. 

"Oh yes, that's plain enough, " said the old man, maliciously, as herested upon his staff, "and some great fighting men who win greatbattles with their tongues are always too late to strike a blow. How isit you are late like that?"

"Oh, that's what you want to know, is it?" said Serge, surlily. 

"Yes, " said the old man. "A man with legs like yours ought to have beenthere. "

"Well, I'll tell you, " said Serge. "It was like this. My chariot hadgone to have new wheels. But perhaps I might have made the old ones do. But both my chariot horses were down with a sort of fever. Then thedriver had gone away to get married and couldn't be found, and so I hadto walk. And now you know. "

"Bah!" cried the old man. "Look at your rough hands! You have beenlike me. You never had a chariot or horses of your own. You're only aworking man. All lies. "

"Every word of it, " said Serge, grinning, "'cept that it's true about meand the youngster here having to walk like our dog. But we want to getthere, brother, as soon as we can, so put us on our way to overtake thearmy, or by a short track to cut it off. "

"Do you mean it?" said the old soldier. 

"Mean it? Of course!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "The division, mind, that's led by Caius Julius. "

"Ho, ho, my young cockerel!" cried the old man. "Then nothing will dofor you but the best?"

"Nothing, " cried Marcus, eagerly. "We want to be where that greatgeneral is that Julius went to seek. Now put us on the way. "

"That's easily done, " cried the old man. "There's a troop of horse thatsets off to-night to follow the rear-guard, and they'll have chariotswith them too. Go and see if you can get along with them. You've nohorses, but you might run beside the chariots, and their drivers, assoon as they see there's stuff in you and that you want to fight, willgive you a lift from time to time. "

"Run beside the chariots, eh?" said Serge, with a laugh, as he glancedat Marcus. "Running would suit you better, my lad, than it would me. I've got a deal more flesh to carry than you have, and running is notgood in armour with a big helmet on your head. You'd have something togrumble at about feeling sore, or I'm mistaken. But never mind; we wantto get there, don't we?"

"Oh yes, we must get on, " cried Marcus, "and if we can't run we canwalk. "

"What I was going to say, " cried Serge, "so put us on the right way, oldcomrade, " he continued, to the old cripple, "and you shan't want forsomething to pay for to-morrow; eh, Marcus, my lad?"

"Oh no, " cried the boy, thrusting his hand into his pouch; but Sergeclapped a hand upon his arm. 

"Wait a bit, boy, " he said. "Don't pay for your work until it is done. "

A short time before, weary with their long tramp, the disappointment offinding that they were quite left behind had made the future look blankand dismal. But the old cripple's words seemed to bring the sun outagain, and he hobbled along by their side through street after street, chattering volubly about his old experiences with the army and hisdisappointment now in seeing the sturdy warriors march off, legion afterlegion, leaving him behind. 

"Ah, " he said, "it's lucky to be you, able to go, and luckier still foryou to have met me who can lead you to the place where the last partyare camping. "

"Where's that?" said Marcus, sharply, for the man seemed to be takingthem a very devious course. 

"Just outside the gate, over yonder. There, you can see the wall, andin a few minutes we shall be there. "

The old soldier's words proved to be quite true, as, at the end of a fewminutes, he led them to the little camp, all astir with the soldierypreparing to start--horsemen, chariots, baggage, horses and campfollowers, all were there, with the leaders fuming and fretting aboutmaking the last preparations, and eager to make the start. 

The old soldier gave his new friends a nudge of the elbow and a veryknowing look. 

"I know what to do, " he said. "You leave it to me. I wasn't in amarching army for years without learning something. Yonder is a bigcaptain, there by that standard. Nothing like going to the top at once. Come along. "

The old cripple drew himself up as well as he could, and, thumping hisstick heavily down, led the way to the fierce-looking captain, whoseface looked scarlet with anger and excitement. 

"Here, captain, " cried the old man. 

The officer turned upon him angrily. 

"Who are you, and what do you want?" he roared. 

The old man pointed to Marcus and Serge. 

"Two brave fighting men, " he cried; "volunteers, well-armed and trained, who want to join. "

"Oh, I've all I want, " cried the captain, roughly, "and--" He stoppedshort, for, as he spoke, he ran his eyes over the two strangers, restingthem longest upon Serge, and he hesitated. 

"Here, you, " he said, as he noted the way in which Marcus' companion wascaparisoned, "you've been in the army before?"

"Years, captain, " cried Serge, with military promptness. "I served withCracis and Julius in the old war. "

"Hah! You'll do, " cried the captain. "But I don't want boys. "

Marcus' spirits had been rising to the highest point, but thecontemptuous tone in which these words were uttered dashed his hopes tothe ground, and he listened despairingly as in imagination he sawhimself rudely separated from his companion and left behind. 

The thoughts were instantaneous, and he was consoling himself with thereflection that Serge would not forsake him, and anticipating the oldsoldier's words, as Serge turned sharply upon his new commander. 

"Boys grow into men, captain, " he said, sharply, "and I've trained thisone myself. He can handle a sword and spear better than I. "

"Hah!" cried the captain, as he looked critically at Marcus, examininghim from top to toe, whilst, as if for no reason whatever, he slowlydrew his sword, while Marcus, who stood spear in hand and shield beforehim, in the attitude he had been taught by Serge, quivered beneath thecaptain's searching eye. 

"Trained him yourself, have you?"

"Yes, captain--well. "

"He can use his weapons?"

"Yes, captain. "

To the astonishment of both Serge and Marcus, and as if without theslightest reason, the big, burly, war-like captain made one step forwardand with it like lightning he struck a blow with his sword right at thecomb of Marcus' helmet, such a one as would have, had it been intended, brought the boy to his knees. 

But Serge had spoken truth when he said that he trained Marcus well, for, quicker in his action than the deliverer of the blow, Marcus hadthrown up his shield-bearing left arm, there was a loud clang upon itsmetal guards as he received the sword blow, and, the next moment, thecaptain drew back as sharply as he had advanced, to avoid the boy'sshort spear, directed at his throat. 

"Good!" he cried. "Well done, boy!" And he began to sheath his sword. "Your teacher, an old hand, no doubt, could not have done better. Why, boy, " he continued, "you are a soldier, every inch, " and he grasped thelad by both arms. "But this won't do; you must lay on muscle here, andthicken and deepen in the chest. That helmet's too heavy for you too. Yes, you are quite a boy--a brave one, no doubt, and well-trained; butyou are too young and slight to stand the hardships of a rough campaign. I should like to take you, but I want men--strong men like yourcompanion here--and I should be wronging your parents if I took you. Whose son are you, boy?"

"My father is Cracis, sir, a friend of Caius Julius, and he is at thefront. "

"Ha!" cried the officer, looking at him searchingly. "Then why are youat the rear?"

Marcus' spirits had been rising again, and his eyes were sparkling, litup as they were by hope; but at that question down they went directly tothe lowest point. 

He tried hard to look firmly in the captain's face, but his eyes wouldblench. He tried to speak, but he could not answer, and he stoodquivering in every nerve, shamefaced and humbled, while his troubleincreased and he turned his eyes upon Serge, looking appealingly at himfor help, as the big officer suddenly exclaimed, as he caught him by theshoulder:

"Why, you young dog, it's all written in your face! You've run away!Ha-ha! I don't mean from the fight, but to it. Let me see. Am Iright? You being a trained young soldier, wanted to go with your fatherto the war, and he told you to stay at home. You've run away to followhim. Am I right?"

Marcus looked at him firmly now. There was no shrinking in his eyes, for he was uttering the truth. 

"Yes, sir, " he said, huskily; "quite right. "

"Well, but I say, captain, " growled Serge, "that's all true enough, every word. But the boy aren't a bit worse than me. The master said Iwas to stop at home and mind him and the swine and things about thefarm; but I couldn't do it with the smell of battle in the air, being anold soldier, don't you see, and the master gone to lead. I felt likethe boy did, ashamed to stop and let one's armour rust when Rome'senemies were waiting to be beaten. I felt obliged to come, and so didyoung Marcus here. A brave boy, captain, so don't be hard. "

"Hah!" cried the captain, frowning severely. "A nice pair, both of you!It isn't likely, but how could I meet Cracis or Julius by and by if Itook you into my following?"

"Oh, we'd keep out of sight, captain, " growled Serge. 

The captain pointed mockingly at Marcus. 

"He doesn't look much like a boy who'd keep out of sight, old warrior, "he said. "Far more likely to thrust himself into the front with all theunbalanced rashness of a boy. A nice pair indeed! But I should like tohave a thousand of you, all the same. No, I don't think I ought to takeyou, boy, " he continued, slowly, with a very severe frown gathering onhis forehead. "But look here; I don't like to stand in the light of oneof Rome's brave sons, however young, at a time when our country needstheir help. But tell me, boy; if I say to you, go back home and wait ayear or two till you have grown more of a man, you will go back at once, will you not?"

"Shall you tell Serge to go back too?" replied Marcus, sharply. 

"Most certainly not, " said the captain, laughing. "He has offered hisservices, and I have taken him. You will have to go home alone. Tellme, will you obey my orders?"

"No, " said Marcus, firmly. "I am not going to forsake old Serge. "

"You are a pretty fellow for a volunteer, " cried the captain, merrily. "Ask me to take you into my following, and, at the first command I giveyou, tell me flat to my nose that you won't obey!"

"I'll do anything else you tell me, captain, but that, " cried Marcus, quickly. 

"Well, boy, " said the captain. "But stop. What shall you do now?"

"Find my way to the army alone, " said Marcus, quickly. 

"You'd never do that, boy. The country ahead is in a state of war, andswarms with ruffians hanging about the heels of the army like wolvesfollowing a drove of sheep--worse, these, than the enemy. Boy, beforemany days had passed you'd be stripped of all your bravery, robbed forthe sake of your weapons, and left dead or dying somewhere in theforest. "

"I can fight, sir, " said Marcus, proudly, "and my sword and spear aresharp. "

"Yes, boy, and I should be sorry for the one or two who tried to stopyour way. But wolves hunt in packs, and can pull the bravest down. Areyou heeding what I say?"

Marcus nodded. He could not speak, but stood gazing at Serge, who hadtaken off his helmet and with a face full of perplexity was vigorouslyscratching at his grizzled head. 

"Well, boy, " continued the captain, "I have thought it over and I mustdo my duty, which is to send you back. "

"Oh!" cried Marcus, and throwing his spear sharply into his left hand heheld out his right to Serge. 

"But if I do that duty, " continued the captain, "it will be to exposeyou to greater risks amongst the marauders gathering everywhere now thanif I take you with me. "

"And you will let me come?" cried Marcus. 

"I am obliged to, boy, " said the captain, smiling, "for I can't helpfeeling that Cracis, if we meet, would blame me more for doing my dutythan for letting you come. Here, old man, you shall not tramp after ourhorse to come in weary and distressed at every halt. I'll put the boy, as he is Cracis' son, in one of the chariots, one of the light onesdrawn by Thracian horses. There are several with their drivers yonderthat I have not yet manned. You as his spearman may accompany him, ofcourse. There, boy, no thanks, " continued the captain, sternly. "Ihave no time for more. Off with you to your place. One of my officerswill see that all is right. What is that man? Away with you!" heshouted to the old crippled soldier, who had heard all and now hobbledforward to speak. But a couple of soldiers placed their spear shaftsbefore him and drove him back. 

But Marcus had seen, and sprang after him, dived under the spears andpressed a few coins into his hand before he was hurried away, babblinghis thanks. 

"I'd about given it up, Marcus, boy, " said Serge just then. "Here, comealong; here's a young captain waiting to show us where to go, and myword, talk about a piece of luck! I thought I was going to be takenaway, never to see you again, and here we are. A chariot and pair withour own driver, and me to sit behind you and do nothing but tell you howto fight. Here, come along. Talk about a piece of luck! How old areyou? Eighteen. Why, you'll be a general at the end of another week!"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

THE CHARIOTEER. 

"I shall never be able to do it, Serge, " said Marcus, nervously, as hestood with his old companion looking admiringly at a pair offiery-looking little steeds harnessed to a low chariot just big enoughto afford room for three. 

The little pair were being held, stamping and covering their sides withthe foam they champed from their bits, by a short, broad-shouldered, swarthy driver, who had his work to restrain the impatient littleanimals. 

They were less in size than what would now be termed cobs, almostponies, but beautifully formed, arched-necked and heavily maned andtailed, a pair that had excited admiration in the boy's eyes as soon ashe saw the chariot to which he had been led. But they were almost wild, and ready to resent the buffets given by their driver with teeth andhoofs. 

"A chariot to be proud of, " Serge had growled in the boy's ear. "Why, acaptain needn't wish for better. I don't know what the master will saywhen he sees you. "

"Oh, don't talk about the meeting, Serge. I feel so excited, " repliedthe boy, and then he added the words which head this chapter. 

"Never be able to do what?" cried the old soldier. 

"Manage the chariot. It seems too much for me. "

"Tchah!" cried Serge. "Don't want no managing. You've got your driverto take you where you tell him right at the enemy, when you get yourorders to advance, and cut them up. You'll stand there in front withyour spear or javelin, and I shall sit behind ready with spare ones foryou to throw when you are amongst the enemy, and stop anyone who triesto come up behind if he's foolish enough. But I don't hold withthrowing javelins. It wants a lot of practice, and those who havepractised most, when they are going at full gallop, are pretty well sureto miss. I should like for you to use your spear, and keep it tightlyin your hand. It means closer quarters, but your thrusts are surer, andyou do better work. Besides, you don't lose your weapon. "

"But I feel it's almost too much for me. "

"Then don't feel at all, " said the old soldier. "Go and do what you'vegot to do along with the cavalry when you have got your orders, anddon't think at all. What you have got to do is to skirmish and drivethe enemy, and what I have got to do is to mind they don't skirmish anddrive you. There, jump in boldly, and look as big as you can. "

"Nonsense! How am I to look big?"

"By opening your mouth, boy, and speaking loud. You are not afraid?"

"Oh no, I am not afraid, " cried Marcus. 

"Then don't let that little driver chap think you are, " whispered Serge. "Act like a captain. That little fellow is only your slave, but if youput on a scared look he'll try to play the master. Unlucky for him ifhe does, for, if he don't do what he's told, I'll crack him like I woulda nut. "

There was no time for more conversation, for the little detachment underthe captain's command had already begun to advance; an order was broughtto the cavalry, and the chariot driver appealed to Serge to come andstand at the horses' heads for a moment while he took the reins. 

Serge changed places with him directly, while the driver assumed thereins, the slight touch upon the ponies' withers making them snort andplunge as much as Serge's strong arms at their bits would allow. 

Then a trumpet rang out, Serge joined his young master in the chariot, and in a few minutes the ponies had settled down into a steady progressat the rear of the column. 

Exciting days followed, during which Marcus began to learn lessons ofwhat it meant to advance into an enemy's country, the necessity of beingconstantly on the alert, where everyone was unfriendly, and to loiterbehind the main body meant being cut off, leaving the loiterer's placein the column empty. 

It was all new to Marcus, as those days passed on, and his captainfollowed exactly in the track of the army that had gone before, workinghis men hard, practising various evolutions, keeping them on the alertand ready for action at a moment's notice. 

It was on one of these occasions, many days after their start, thattowards evening a halt was called just after the column had moved outfrom a narrow mountain ravine, such a place as had presented plenty ofopportunities for the enemy, had they been near, to descend from one ofthe side gorges and attack, to the cutting off of the column. 

And all this had necessitated careful scouting and watchfulness on thepart of the leader. But at last it seemed as if they had ridden outinto safety, a wide, open plain stretching before them, suitable forforming camp for the night, where there was no risk of ambush orsurprise. 

A murmur of satisfaction ran through the column as posts were set, fireslit, and the men began settling down. Marcus' horses had given up agood deal of their wildness and begun to form a kind of friendship withLupe, who had narrowly escaped execution, consequent upon the effectthat he had had upon Marcus' chariot pair, who, whenever he came near, had exhibited a frantic determination to tear off at full speed, andthis generally where the ground was of the very roughest character andthe destruction of the chariot would have been certain. 

It had been a difficulty, but, like other difficulties better or worse, it had been mastered, and, instead of meeting his death, the constanttraining, through which the chariots and horsemen had passed, resultedin the above-named friendly feeling, and now, at an advance, the dogtook his place just in front of the fiery little steeds and trottedbefore them, while when they halted, he took it as a matter of coursethat one or other of the beautiful little animals should stretch out itsarched neck, nuzzle among his bristly hairs, and at times close itsteeth upon the back of the dog's neck and attempt to raise him from theground. 

"I should never have thought he would have stood it, my lad, " saidSerge; "but he has found out it means friendly, or else he'd bark andlet them have his teeth in turn. "

This was said as the sturdy driver was freeing the pair from their placeon each side of the chariot pole and twisting up their traces, for nightwas falling fast, and the men's fires were beginning to twinkle here andthere. 

"Tired, boy?" said the old soldier, who was carefully removing the dustfrom his armour. 

"Horribly, " replied Marcus. "I want to lie down and sleep. Oh, how Ican sleep to-night!"

The words had hardly passed his lips when there was the blare of atrumpet, followed by another and another, with the result that it seemedas if a nest of hornets had been disturbed, for a loud buzzing filledthe darkening air, leaders' voices rose giving orders, and there was amurmur punctuated, so to speak, by the clinking of armour, the rattle ofweapons against shields, and the whinnying and squealing of horses, accompanied by angry cries from those who were harnessing them again. 

"And I was so tired, Serge, " said Marcus, as he finished hurrying on hisarmour. "What does it mean?"

"An alarm or an advance; I can't say which, boy. But be smart. We mayget our orders at any moment. "

"I shall be ready directly. There, he has done harnessing the horses. Down, Lupe! Quiet! Keep away from their heads. "

The dog crouched in front, just beyond the reach of one of the horses, waiting patiently for what was next to come. 

"Ah, you are the best off, after all, " said Marcus, "You just get up onall four legs, give yourself a shake, and you are ready for anything. "

The dog looked up, gave the speaker a friendly growl, and then let hishead rest again upon his extended paws, while Marcus walked to the sideof his chariot horses to pat and caress their arched necks, friendlyadvances which were now accepted by the savage little animals withoutany attempts to bite, while he could pass behind them now without havingto beware of a lightning-like kick. 

"All ready?" growled Serge, who had just loosened the throwing spears hehad laid in the bottom of the chariot. 

"Oh yes, I am ready; but can't I lie down and sleep till the order comesto advance?"

"No, you can't, " growled Serge. "A soldier shouldn't want to sleep whenhe is waiting for the trumpet to sound. "

"Oh, I don't know, " said Marcus, peevishly. "I should have thought heought to snatch a little sleep whenever he could. "

"That's right, " said the old soldier, grumpily. "But he can't now. "

"Why?" said Marcus, with a yawn. 

"Because the foot soldiers are starting now, and the horse went scoutingon ten minutes ago. I wonder we haven't got our orders before this. "

"Why, we shouldn't have been ready if they had come, " said Marcus. 

"No, " growled Serge. "We with the chariots are horribly slow. It's allthrough having to depend upon these driver fellows and our horses havingto drag a clumsy car at their heels. Now look here, I am beginning tothink that the enemy's afoot coming down to surprise us, and, if so, wewith the chariots shall have our turn. "

"What makes you think that?" cried Marcus, shaking off his drowsiness atthese words. 

"I don't know, boy, only I do. In with you. Now we are off. "

The driver was already in his place as Marcus sprang into the chariot, and seized one of the throwing spears, to be followed directly by Serge;for an order rang out, there was a peculiar sound as the horses startedat the first shaking of their reins and the guttural cries of theirdrivers, and then, in a fairly well-kept line, some twenty of thewar-like cars, drawn by their snorting horses, advanced in line over themoderately smooth plain in the direction already taken by the foot andhorse. But as they nearly came within touch, the mounted figure of thecaptain was seen facing them in front, where he sat ready to give afresh order, when the line of chariots broke, as it were, in two, halfpassing him to left, the other half to right, to take up position on theflanks of the infantry, which was about a couple of hundred yards inadvance. 

The next minute from out of the darkness ahead there came faintly thesound of shouts, accompanied by the beating of hoofs, and a horsemantore up to the captain, to make some communication which caused him toset spurs to his horse and gallop forward, while Marcus, as his chariotrolled on, rested his hand on the front and peered forward over hishorses' heads into the bank of gloom which now grew more and more alivewith sound. 

There was the heavy tramp, tramp of armed men, followed by the suddenrush and thunder of hoofs, while where he stood there was the rattle ofthe chariot wheels and the cries of the drivers as they urged theirhorses on. 

"How are you, boy?" said Serge, hoarsely, with his lips close to hisyoung master's ear. 

"Oh, I'm well enough, " was the reply, "but I can't see. I want to knowwhat we are going to do. "

"Don't you want to lie down and have a sleep?" said Serge, grimly. 

"Sleep? No! I want to understand what's going on. "

"What for?" growled Serge. "What's it got to do with you?"

"What has it got to do with me?" cried Marcus, without turning his head. 

"Yes; what's it got to do with you? That's the captain's business. Weare advancing slowly, and by and by when the enemy has passed throughour cavalry, and delivered its attack upon our foot, and they are comingon--I can hear them hurrah, boy! This isn't a false alarm. Hear thatshouting?"

"Hear it, yes!"

"That's the enemy, and they are very strong too. "

"How do you know?"

"I can hear them, boy. "

"Oh, then why don't we gallop forward and attack?" cried Marcus, excitedly. 

"Because it arn't our time. There! Hear that?"

"Yes; what does it mean?" cried Marcus, as a dull, low, clattering soundwas heard. 

"Why, you ought to know by now. That's our foot-men joining shieldstogether to receive the enemy's horse, which must have scattered ours. They are driven back, and they will come round behind us if I am notmistaken. "

"What, have they run away?" cried Marcus. 

"Oh no, boy. Bent back to right and left. They were taken by surprise, I should say, and gave way. That's the art of war. And now! Hark atthem! The enemy's coming down with a rush upon our infantry to cut themup and sweep us all away. "

"What!" cried Marcus, wildly. "And we in the chariots are ambling onlike this! Oh, if I could only see something besides that line infront!"

"See with your ears, boy, as I do, " growled Serge. "This is the firstbit of real work I have been in for many a year, but it's all goingright. We have got a captain over us who knows what he is about. There! What did I say? Hear that?"

It was plain enough to hear: a confused rush of galloping hoofs away infront beyond the line of infantry, another thunder of galloping horsespanting and snorting as they rushed by in the darkness close at hand, and another body away to Marcus' left, beyond the second half of theline of chariots. This ceased directly afterwards, and, as the boyglanced back, he could see a mass of horsemen forming up behind thecars, while, at the same moment from away in front, there was a terrificburst of savage yells, answered by shouts of defiance and the clatter ofspears and shields, mingled with a confused clash as the enemy'shorsemen charged home upon the infantry. 

Marcus' ears rang with the confusion of sounds which followed--cries ofagony, shouts of triumph, and the trampling of horses, and then a roar, above which rang out somewhere near at hand the shrill note of aclarion, whose effect was to make the chariot horses burst into agallop. 

"Now we are off, " shouted Serge into the boy's ear. "Your spear, lad. Throw when you get a chance; I have another ready for you. But don'twaste your stroke. "

Marcus heard, but he did not heed, for his heart was beating violently, his head swimming with excitement, and he felt half stunned, halfmaddened, as he was borne onward, his chariot about the middle of thelittle line so close together that, moment by moment, it seemed as ifthe wheels of the cars on either side must come into collision. 

But the collision was not to be there, for as, excited by the yells oftheir drivers, the little pairs tore on, there suddenly seemed to springup out of the darkness ahead a confused crowd of mounted men; and thenthere was a shock, and Marcus felt his car leap forward on its wheels, rising on one side as if to overturn, but coming down level directly andbounding oh again at the heels of his excited steeds. 

He could not see to right or left, but he was conscious that there wereother chariots tearing on beside him, and there was another shock, andanother, mingled with yells and cries, and then they were racing onagain apparently being hunted by a body of horse, and it seemed to theboy as if his and his fellow chariots were in full flight. 

But just then there were the faint notes of a trumpet, and, as they toreon, the line of chariots swung round as upon a pivot and began to tearback. 

And now it seemed to Marcus that the horsemen who had been pursuing themwere taking flight in turn, and, as he realised this, the boy shouted tohis driver to drive more swiftly. 

"No, no!" yelled Serge, furiously. "Steady! Steady! And keep inline. "

"But they will get away!" cried the boy, mad now with excitement. 

"Bah! You don't understand, " cried Serge. "Those are our horsemen. "

Another trumpet brayed out and the cavalry in front of the chariotsswung round to right and left, making an opening through which theypassed, slackening their speed, but careering on till Marcus made out asolid body of infantry on his right front. 

A minute later the chariots had wheeled round again in the infantry'srear, and in the distance there was, dying away, the sound of hoofs. 

"Well, boy, what do you think of that?" said a voice in Marcus' ear. 

"I--I don't know, " panted Marcus, as short of breath as if he had beenrunning hard. "I don't think I understand. "

"Ha, ha!" laughed Serge, hoarsely. "I don't suppose you do. I don'tquite myself, but I should think that was a big body of the Gallic horsewho came down thinking to surprise us and to snuff us out. But theyfound out their mistake. "

"And where are they now?" panted Marcus. 

"Oh, far away. You can just hear them in the distance. They have goneoff beaten, with their tails between their legs. Couldn't you feel howwe cut them up?"

"Cut them up!" said Marcus. 

"Yes. Don't you remember how we tore through them, crash into theirmidst, after they were broken from their charge upon our infantry, whichstood together like a rock? It was splendid, boy, though it was almosttoo dark to see. "

"Oh yes, I recollect something of it; but it was all wild and confusedand strange. I couldn't see anything clearly. "

"No more could anyone else, boy. We, who do the fighting, never see. "

"Because it was so dark to-night. "

"It would be just the same by day. But, hallo! Where's your spear?"

"I don't know, " said Marcus, staring. "Oh, I think I remember, I threwit at a horseman, just before we went crash upon him and the chariot wasnearly overturned. But there, don't ask me. It seemed to be all onewild struggle and noise, and my head's all whirling now. "

"Well, what did you expect it to be?"

"Oh, I don't know, " said Marcus. "But tell me, Serge, have we won?"

"Won? Of course! We Romans always do. This was through our leader'sskill, training against an undisciplined horde of horsemen, twice ournumber I should think. They are in full retreat, and I expect we shallfind they have left half their number upon the field. "

"Hark!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "Here they come again!"

"No, boy; not at a gentle trot like that. Those you hear are the bestportion of our horsemen who have been pursuing and scattering the enemyfar and wide. Rather exciting all this, my lad, eh?"

"Exciting? Yes! Only I couldn't understand. "

"But your captain could, my boy, and won the fight. Here, catch hold ofthis; and next time you throw your spear, pick up another, sharp. "

"But oughtn't you to have given me one directly? You taught mesomething of the kind. "

"So I did, boy; but you see I have been out of practice for many years, and forgot my duty in the hurry of the fight; but I won't do so again. "

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

OLD SERGE MUSES. 

"Sure you are not hurt, boy?" said Serge, as they stood waiting by thechariot for further orders, their sturdy little driver taking advantageof the opportunity to carefully attend to his steeds. 

"Hurt? No!" cried Marcus. "I only feel hot and excited. "

"Of course you do; but I don't suppose we shall move now for some time, till the captain's scouts that he must have sent out bring back news ofthe enemy, and then he will camp for the rest of the night. He oughtto. I should, so as to give the men a rest ready for when the enemyattacks again in the morning. "

"But you said that the enemy were beaten and driven away. "

"So they were, boy, but in a war like this they will only make for themountains and collect together again ready for a fresh attack as soon asthey get the chance. "

"But will they keep on doing that?" cried Marcus. 

"Of course they will whenever they feel strong enough; and when they areweak they will give up. "

"Oh, I don't understand it a bit, " cried Marcus. 

"Well, you don't want to understand it, " said Serge. "That's for thegenerals and big captains to do. All that they want of us is to fight. "

"But why is this war?" said Marcus, impatiently. 

"Oh, I suppose it's because some of the tribes have been attacking andplundering and carrying off cattle and goods of the country people, tillthe chiefs say: This sort of thing must be stopped, and they collect anarmy, talk it over with the peaceful tribes who are ready to be friends, and then with their help march into the enemy's country, conquer it, andbring them to their senses. That's what we do, and used to do--bringall these nations round about under the rule of Rome. These we arefighting with now are the peoples off to the north and west. They havegot all sorts of names, but I suppose they are all Gauls. But now lookhere: a bit ago you were so tired out with your long march that youwanted to sleep. Half the night hasn't gone, so the best thing you cando is to curl yourself up and sleep till sunrise as hard as you can. "

"Sleep!" cried Marcus, mockingly. "Who's to sleep at a time like this?"

"A soldier, of course, and be glad to when he gets the chance. "

"Oh, I couldn't sleep, " cried Marcus. "I feel all bubbling over withexcitement, and if I were to lie down I should seem to be galloping overthe fields again. "

"Nonsense! You lie down and have a sleep. You always used to mind whatI said when I tried to teach you. Do so now, and get some rest. "

"But suppose they come back and attack us again?"

"Well, we shall have warning. There are scouts and sentries out in alldirections, and you would have plenty of time to get up into thechariot, I dare say. There, lie down. "

"Don't you order me, Serge, " said the boy, peevishly. "You are not myofficer. "

"No, we are only comrades, and I am not ordering, only telling you forthe best. There, get a sleep, boy, while you can. "

"Well, I'll lie down, but I can't sleep, Serge. I shall be thinkingabout the war, and the tribes that are coming to attack us, all thenight. "

"Very well, boy, think about them, then, as you are so anxious tounderstand all about the war. I'd be sure and call you when you arewanted. I am not greedy about having all the fighting to myself. Youshall have your share. "

"Very well, " said Marcus, and selecting a place that seemed a littleless hard than the stony ground in their close neighbourhood, and wherehe was not likely to be trampled upon by any of the chariot horses, hethrew himself down, but started up again in alarm with his hand seekinghis sword, for a big lump of stone dimly-seen in the darkness suddenlyseemed endowed with life, springing up to give itself a rough shake, andassuming the form of a big dog. 

"Why, Lupe, you here?" cried Marcus, laughing. "Look here, Serge; hewas lying here curled up, asleep. Where's he been all the time?"

"Taking care of himself and waiting for us to come back, I suppose. There, do you want a lesson in campaigning, boy?"

"No, not to-night, thank you. You said I was to go to sleep. "

"Of course; and here's your lesson all the same. Make Lupe lie down, and use him for a warm, dry pillow. Not a bad thing at a time likethis. A deal better than a horse, for it isn't always you can get themto lie down, and a horse's hoofs are rather bad company if he getsrestless in the night. "

Half irritably in his exalted state Marcus turned away with a gesture ofannoyance. 

"Down, Lupe! Lie down!" growled the old soldier; and as the dogobediently subsided on the rough ground, the boy thought better of it, sank upon his knees, and then awkwardly in his armour adjusted himselfso that he could lay his face with his cheek in the rough hair about thedog's neck. 

There was something comforting and friendly in the deep, satisfied sighLupe gave, holding quite rigid as he stretched himself out, while Marcussaid to himself:

"Oh, this is stupid! I shall never go to sleep like this;" and he laystaring right before him at the indistinctly seen chariot with its pairof horses standing together, one or the other every now and then givingan impatient stamp or whinnying softly. 

Beyond them and their driver all was dark confusion, out of which camemurmurs of voices, the jingling of armour, and a suggestion of peoplepassing to and fro. 

And then the darkness seemed to lighten and horses were tearing along atfull gallop with the enemy in front, and Marcus gave a sudden start, hissharp movement producing a low remonstrant growl from his pillow. 

"What was that?" thought Marcus. "Why, I must have been asleep. Ah, there it is again!" For from somewhere out of the darkness there came alow agonised cry which made the boy sit up and listen. 

"Are you there, Serge?" he said, softly. 

"Yes. What is it, boy?" came from the back of the chariot, where theold soldier had seated himself; and he rose at once and crossed the fewyards which lay between him and his young companion's resting place. 

"Did you hear that?" asked Marcus. 

"Oh, yes, I heard it, boy. "

"What was it?"

"A wounded man. They have been carrying some in from over yonder. "

"How horrible!" whispered the boy. "Let's go and help him. "

"No, go to sleep. You can do nothing there. "

"Sleep!" cried the boy, reproachfully. "Who can sleep with anyonesuffering like that?"

"You, " said Serge, quietly. "You have been asleep an hour, and ofcourse there have been plenty of poor fellows carried by, enemies andfriends. "

"But--" began Marcus. 

"Go to sleep again, boy. You can do nothing there. We'd go together ifwe could help. "

Marcus was silent as he lay resting on one hand, listening and thinkingwhat it was his duty to do, but listening in vain, for no such soundagain broke the silence of the night, while after standing by him a fewminutes, Serge walked away into the darkness and then returned to hisseat in the chariot, where he too, utterly devoid of all inclination tosleep, sat and thought about their position there and asked himselfwhether it was yet too late to reverse their plans, and seeking thefirst opportunity to hurry his young companion away from the scenes ofcarnage and the dangers by which they were surrounded. 

"I have done wrong all along, " he muttered to himself. "I went againstmy orders, and some day I shall have to face the master and answer formyself. Yes, " he muttered, "I must take him back. " And with the fullintention, as he sat there leaning his left shoulder against the side ofthe chariot, of leaving the little rear-guard of the army as soon as hecould, Serge changed his position to the other side of the chariot torest his right side, and as he subsided against the hard iron-boundwood, listening for danger, the galloping-in of scouts, or some otherwarning of another night attack, a fresh current of thoughts began tochase each other through his brain. 

"No, " he said, "I won't go, and if I would he'd say again that hewouldn't come. He's a soldier's son, and it comes natural to him. Whatam I growling at myself for? I didn't set him to run away. He came ofhimself, and if I hadn't done the same he'd have been here all alonewithout me to watch over him, take his part, and help him, same as hedid me when I was attacked. Why, after all, everything's gone right andhappened as it should. We are in for it, and must go on. But thiswon't do; I mustn't go to sleep. " And springing up, the old soldiertook a few steps up and down like a sentry, before stopping short andgoing down on one knee, steadying himself the while by means of hisspear, and bending over Marcus, who was sleeping heavily, his breathcoming regularly as he lay there deaf to everything that was going onaround, while the dog uttered a low whine and lifted his heavy tailslowly, to beat with it softly upon the ground. 

"He's all right, " said Serge, and he backed away again, to march up tothe horses, pat them, and then say a word or two to their driver, whowas lying upon his back just in front, sleeping heavily and quiteunconscious of Serge's presence. 

The latter took another turn or two up and down, thinking deeply thewhile. 

"Yes, " he said softly, "what I told the boy's about right, and I cantell him some more to-morrow, for out here in the darkness and silenceall my old soldiering seems to be coming back. We are a sort ofrear-guard, that's what we are, and it's our job to keep some milesbehind the main army, to prevent the enemy from closing in and harassingour troops, besides seeing that they carry out the general's orders andbring up the food and forage they as a conquered people are ordered tosupply. Conquered people!" he said, with a contemptuous ejaculation. "Why, it's like digging a channel through a bed of dry sand. I knowwhat this country is. If we go on like this for a few days we shall beright in amongst the mountains, full of holes and hiding-places wherethe enemy can lurk, and as fast as they are driven off they will be likedry sand, as I said, and come running back again. "

Serge went and bent over Marcus again to satisfy himself that the boywas sleeping deeply, and uttered a low grunt that might have beenlearned of the swine he tended at the farm. 

"Do him no end of good, " he muttered--"strengthen his legs. " And hebegan to walk up and down again, pausing once or twice to pat the horsesand growl at the driver, who was sleeping hard with his mouth wide open. 

"Yes, " muttered the old soldier, "a good sleep will do the boy good--harden his legs. I said my old soldiering was coming back; I wish myold legs would come back and be the same as they used to when I couldwalk for weeks, instead of aching like this when I haven't had to walk, but have been riding all day. Hah!" he sighed, as he lowered himselfdown into the back of the chariot to lean against the side once more. "I can keep watch over him just as well sitting down as standing up. Idon't see that I need watch at all when the boy's got a pillow with aset of teeth like a rat trap that will take fast hold of anyone who cameto interfere with him. But there's the master. We have got to meetsome day, and I shall have to give an account of myself. `What were youdoing away from the farm?' he'll say. `Watching over your boy, master, 'says I. That will have him on the hip. That's my only chance, the onlything that will save me. "

Serge's grim face relaxed, and he rolled about in his seat, chucklingsoftly. 

"It will get me off, " he said; "it will get me off with the master. Hewon't be very hard on me after that. It aren't quite honest, for Inever thought a bit about the boy when I went away. But I did mean totake him back, and I'd have done it too, and stopped with him, only hewas too much for me. Ah, he's a clever one. He's only a boy, but he'sgot a lot of man in him, and when he gets ripe, you mark my words, " hesaid, softly, staring hard at the dimly-seen driver the while, "he'll beas big a man as his father. I don't mean as to size; like as not he'llbe bigger. I mean as to his head. It aren't quite fair, and maybe it'sa bit like deceiving the master to answer him like that when he says, `What are you doing there?' and I says, `Watching over your boy, master, ' But I am going to watch over him, and I'll stick to him, andI'll die for him if I'm obliged; and you can't say that arn't honest. "

Serge bent forward and literally glared at the sleeping driver, whomuttered something in reply. 

"Ah, you may say what you like, " muttered Serge, "but that will behonest; and if you put that in one side of the balance, and my forsakingthe old place when I was told to stay, in the other, they'll weighpretty much alike. Yes, I'll watch over him, master, like a man, justas I would have done if he had been my own, for somehow I always seemedto like him, and I suppose I should have felt just about the same if hehad been mine. It's precious dark and quiet enough now. I don'tsuppose we shall be disturbed before daylight, for the enemy got morethan they expected, so I may just as well sit and rest. I can watchover him just the same, and--" Serge's next utterance was notunderstandable if treated as words, but perfectly plain if considered asa snore, for he had sunk sideways till his head rested on the hard edgeof the car, while at regular intervals he gave vent to a series of deepgruff tones which sounded as if his neck were bent at such a severeangle that there was not room for his breath to pass comfortably roundthe corner. 

It was not comfortable for him, for though he was sleeping very soundly, his rest was uneasy, consequent upon which he began to dream in atroubled way about being at home; and his busy brain put its owninterpretation upon the sounds that rose from his chest and interferedwith the soundness of his sleep, so that, half awakened, he lay backlistening to his own snoring and attributed it to something else, gradually awakening more and more the while. 

"Hark at that!" he muttered. "And after all the trouble I took to mendthat bit of fence! Talk about sheep always following one anotherthrough a gap, why they are nothing to swine! They want a gap, too, forthe leader to go through, but an old boar big with that snout of his andthem tusks, he'll bore and bore and bore till he makes a little hole abig un, and once he gets his snout in he drives on till he gets rightthrough. Now, I've mended that hole so as you'd have thought it wasquite safe; but hark at that! He's got right through into the garden, and the old sow and the young uns has followed him. But just wait a bittill I get my staff, and I'll make such music as will bring MasterMarcus out to ask me if I am killing a pig. There's no room about theplace to please them, no miles of acorn and chestnut forest so that theycan fill themselves as full as sacks, but they must come into my gardenand raven there! Nothing will do for them but my melons and cucumbers!Well, we'll just see about that. "

Serge rose from his seat, after taking hold of the spear that he hadrested against the side of the chariot, and with his eyes closely shuttook a couple of steps forward, and then stopped short with his eyeswide open, as he stared wildly round in an absolute state of confusionand strove hard to make out where he was. 

For some moments his mind was a complete blank, and the darkness seemedimpenetrable, while his mind absolutely refused to answer the mentalquestion--Where am I?

Then he knew, and there was fierce anger in the low tones of his voice, which formed the self-accusatory words:

"Why, I've been asleep!"

He struck a sharp blow with the staff of his spear; but it was not atthe imaginary patriarch of the home herd, but at his own head, which wassaved from harm by his helmet, the stroke causing a sharp soundsufficiently loud to make Lupe utter an ominous growl, and the horseswhere they were tethered start and stamp. 

"And sarve you right too!" growled Serge, removing his helmet, which hehad knocked on one side, and softly rubbing one spot that had felt thebottom edge keenly. "And here have I been going on about being honestand keeping a true watch over that boy! Here, I'm proud of myself, Iam! If I go to sleep again it shall be standing up, anyhow. " Andpulling himself together he shouldered his spear and commenced pacing upand down, to keep it up steadily hour after hour, only pausing to listenfrom time to time, to hear nothing more suspicious than the regularnight sounds of a camp surrounded by sentries and scouts and on thewatch for an enemy known to be near at hand. 

Marcus slept well till daybreak, when the first warning of the enemy'smovements was given, and he sprang to his feet, to find himself face toface with Serge. 

"What was that?" he cried. 

"Trumpet, boy. Make ready. The enemy's going to stir us up again. "

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

IN THE SNOWY PASS. 

Serge's announcement was quite correct, for while the Romans rested, theenemy had been gathering together again among the hills, and were comingon in force to attack the camp; but what they had failed to do by theirnight attack proved doubly difficult in the light of day. The littleRoman force, though vastly outnumbered and surrounded, was wellcommanded by a skilful officer, who was able, by keeping hiswell-disciplined men together, to roll back the desultory attacksdelivered on all sides, till, quite disheartened, the enemy retreated inall directions and the march was resumed again. 

That day's tramp and the many that followed were a succession of marchesthrough an enemy's country, with the foe always on the watch to harassthe little force, and cut it off from joining the main invading body farahead. 

Every day brought its skirmishes, with victory constantly on the Romanside. 

There was no want of bravery on the enemy's part, but the discipline ofthe little civilised division with its strong coherence was too much forthe loose dashes, ambushes, and traps that were laid. 

The consequence was a slow, steady advance that nothing could impede, through the fertile plains of the South and ever onward, with thesnow-capped mountains growing nearer and nearer, till the great pass wasat hand that had been traversed by the main army, and no difficulty wasthen experienced as to the route, for its passage was marked plainlyenough by the traces of the many encounters and the ruin and destructionthat indicated its way. 

"Shall we never overtake them?" said Marcus, one evening. 

"Well, if we keep on I suppose we shall, " replied the old soldier. "Butwhat's your hurry? Are you tired out?"

"Oh, no, " cried the boy; "we don't go fast enough for that; but I amanxious to join father once again. "

"Humph!" grunted Serge. "I don't feel so much in a hurry myself. Perhaps we shan't overtake him at all. "

"But we are going to join the army. "

"We are going just where our captain takes us, boy. He's doing his worksplendidly, and so are we. "

"What, keeping on with these little petty skirmishes?"

"Of course, boy. Don't you see how we are keeping the enemy fromclosing in about the army's rear, and saving them from destroying andburning every homestead and village whose supplies are wanted for ourmen?"

"Oh, I don't quite understand, " cried Marcus, impatiently. 

"Leave it to your leader, then, boy. That's what a good soldier oughtto do. But what's the matter with you? Cold?"

"Yes, horribly. Why, it was as hot as could be in the valley thismorning. "

"Well, no wonder, " said Serge, with a grim smile. "We were all amongstthe trees and pleasant grass down there, and now on each side andstraight before you--"

"Yes, " said Marcus, as he glanced around him. "It looks all very bleakand bare down here. "

"Up here, boy. We have been steadily rising all the day. Look at theice and snow up yonder and straight before us. This time to-morrow weshall be shivering amongst the snow. "

"But we can't get the horses and the baggage right over that mountain infront. " And he pointed at the jagged peaks and hollows which wereglistening like gold in the last rays of the setting sun. 

"No, boy, but we can go on along this rugged valley, which leads rightthrough, and then when we get to the top of the pass begins to go downagain, when we shall find it getting warmer every hour till we are oncemore in the plains amongst the green fields and forests of the enemy'scountry. Look there at that stream, " and the old soldier pointed to thedingy-coloured rushing waters which flowed by the side of the levelwhich their leader had chosen as the site of that night's camp. 

"Yes, I see; and it isn't fit to drink, " said Marcus. 

"Snow water, " said the old man, shortly. "Well, which way does it run?"

"Why, towards us, of course. "

"Well, by this time to-morrow, if it's like one that I tramped by withyour father years ago, we shall have found it coming out from underneatha bed of ice, left it behind, and on the other side of the hill comeupon another flowing right away to the north and west; and alongside ofthat road will be our road, right into the enemy's country, and theenemy posted every here and there to stop us from reaching the plain--that is, if Julius and your father have not driven them right away. Butmost likely they have, and all our troubles now will come from therear. "

Serge's remarks, based upon old experience, proved to be pretty correct, for the troubles of the little force began to come thick and fast. Upto the time of that last halt the attacks had been made by the littleparties, each under its own leader, and they came from front, rear, andflanks, in all directions, for the rush made by one portion of a tribewould act as the signal for others to follow suit, and it frequentlyhappened that the Roman soldiers were completely surrounded. But now asthey moved on towards the north and west, the pass they had entered andwhich wound or zig-zagged its way more into the mountain chain whichdivided the land of the Gauls from the Roman dominions, closed in moreand more, beginning as a beautiful open valley and gradually changingits nature as it rose till it assumed the nature of a gorge or rift. The sides were no longer soft grassy slopes broken by little vales whichafforded shelter for the enemy, and from which they made their fiercestrushes, coming down like furious torrents from the hills and often incompany with the streams by whose sides they made their way, but hour byhour grew steeper till they assumed the nature of rugged walls, impassable to any but climbers or the goats that browsed their sterilepaths in herds. The mountains here towered up higher and higher intheir stern frowning majesty, scantily furnished with growth, save hereand there the earth that had been washed down from above affordedsustenance to a patch of spear-like pines with their dark, sombre, blackish green needles. The roughest of rough stony tracks was now thedetachment's path, and it became hard work, approaching to climbing, forthe heavily-armed foot soldiers, difficult for the cavalry--whose horsesneeded the sure-footedness of mules to get along, their riders having todismount and lead their steeds--while for the little train of chariotsthe difficulties were almost insurmountable. The pony-like pairs thatdrew them were safer footed and got on better than the heavier animalsthat bore the Roman mounted men, but the chariots were always in need ofhelp. Sometimes one wheel would be high in the air, sometimes theother, while often the drivers and riders had to make a rush to helpdrag or push the low, heavy vehicles over some more rugged spot. 

For there was no regular road now that they were beyond the Romandominions, where directly a country was conquered the new owners setthemselves to form a level military road, but simply a rough, rock-encumbered track. 

"Yes, it's bad going, " Serge said, "but it would want a far worse waythan this to keep back a Roman army. Our men with all their baggagehave been along here, as you see, so of course we can follow; and it'ssplendid for us in the way of safety. "

"Yes, " agreed Marcus; "every attack must come now from the front orrear. These mountain walls make splendid allies to guard our flanks. "

"Front--rear--flanks! Well done!" cried Serge. "I like that. You'regetting quite the soldier, my boy. "

Matters proved to be better still as they moved higher up the pass, notin the way of the road improving, but respecting the difficulties withthe enemy, for after the latter had made a brave stand in one spot wherethe pass widened out for a space, and fought stubbornly for a while, thelittle Roman force cut their way through and into the narrow portionwhere the walls of the gorge closed quite up on either side, leavingonly room for the grey muddy stream and the road track along whichMarcus and his friends made their way, completely freed from all attacksave from the rear, where a fierce pursuit was kept up, fresh parties ofthe enemy giving up and retreating after delivering their attack andbeing rolled back. 

The fighting was sharp, the brunt of it being borne by the footsoldiers, who protected the rear, while the chariots were forced overthe many difficulties and the horses helped along, a portion of the footbeing far in advance, ready for any body of the enemy which might beblocking their way in ambush. 

It had been rough work that day, and the men, after the amount offighting they had gone through, were beginning to look dispirited andfeel disheartened, for in addition to the length of the struggle, thesupplies had run short, and everyone knew that no more food could beobtained until they had forced their way through the desolate pass, overthe summit, and down the other side to the cultivated and inhabitedregions below. 

But their leader was well suited to his task, and he seemed to beeverywhere, with a word or two of encouragement and praise, stopping tohelp the men with the baggage animals, heading a party sent forward tolever the great blocks of stone that impeded progress, and readydirectly after to urge his trembling horse back among the rocks themoment the echoes of the shouts behind warned him that there was a freshattack in the rear. There were two of these, one directly after thestart at sunrise, and a second high up the pass at mid-day, when as hebade the horsemen and the chariots pass on, he laughingly in Marcus'hearing told his soldiery to make use of the loose rocks to form a roughbreastwork behind which they could fight, and all the better for thecavalry being out of their way. 

That fight was bitter and long sustained, and as the turmoil cameechoing up the gorge to where Marcus and Serge were striving hard tomaster the difficulties before them and urge their willing littlechariot horses on, the latter frowned as he rubbed his blue nose andresponded to something Marcus had said. 

"No, my lad, " he replied; "they're not getting the better of our men, and they will not. We hear so much of what is going on because thesound comes up as if through a trumpet. "

"Comes up, Serge?"

"Yes, my lad; we're a couple of thousand feet higher than they are belowyonder, and the reason the fight lasts so long is because the enemy keepon bringing up fresh men. "

"Think so?" said Marcus. 

"I'm sure of it, my lad. Yesterday and before there were thousands ofthem scattered in droves all about us; now the pass is so narrow thatthey are all squeezed up together; and so much the better for us. "

"Why?" asked Marcus. 

"Because we've got such a narrow front to defend. Why, you know what ascrap of road there was where the captain halted his men. "

"Yes, " said Marcus; "just like a gash cut through the rock. "

"That's right, " said the old soldier. "Well, a line of twenty men wouldhave been sufficient to guard that bit. "

"More than enough, " said Marcus. 

"Right, boy. Well, he has got six or seven hundred there, and no armythat the enemy can bring up can drive our men from that stronghold. There are only two things that can master them. "

"What are they?" said Marcus, anxiously. 

"Cold and hunger. "

"Ah!" sighed Marcus. 

"There, don't groan like that, boy, " cried the old soldier, sharply. "It sounded as if you hadn't had anything to eat for a week, and I'msure you're not cold. "

"Then you're wrong, " cried Marcus, "for I am bitterly cold. "

"That shows you haven't worked hard enough. Come on and let's getbehind the chariot and help the horses with a push. "

"Yes, presently, " said Marcus, as he glanced at the brave little beasts, which looked hot in spite of the fact that a chilly wind was blowingdown the gorge, and that they were standing up to their knees in snow. "I'm a bit out of breath too. "

"Don't talk, then, boy, " growled Serge. "Save your wind. "

"But I want to talk, " continued Marcus. "You've been over this passbefore?"

"Nay, not this one, boy, but one like it farther east. "

"Like this? But was it so strange?"

"What do you mean by strange, my lad?"

"Why, for us to be going to rest last night with the country all roundseeming to be in summer, while as we've come along to-day we've got intoautumn, and now we're going right into the depth of winter. "

"Yes, my lad, but it's summer all the same. It's only because we're sohigh up, same as you used to see it at home when you looked up towardsthe mountains and saw them covered with snow. "

"But this doesn't look like snow, Serge, " said the boy, kicking up theicy particles. "It is more like piled-up heaps of hail after a heavystorm. Ugh! It does look winterly! Ice and snow everywhere, and not agreen thing to be seen. "

"All the more reason, boy, why we should push on, get over the highestbit, and then every step we take will be for the better. "

"Shall we be out of this cutting icy wind that comes roaring up betweenthese two great walls of rock?"

"To be sure we shall, " said Serge, cheerfully; "and it'll be somethingto talk about when we've done it and are down below in the warm sunshineto-morrow morning, eating new bread and drinking milk. "

"I don't want to talk about it, Serge, " said Marcus, beginning to talkin a dull, drowsy way. "I shall want to sleep and rest. I feel as if Icould do so now. "

"Do you? Then you mustn't; and we must stop anyone who tries to. Why, it reminds me, boy, of old times when we crossed that other pass. Someof our men would lie down to sleep, but they never got up again. "

"Why?" cried Marcus, in a horrified tone. 

"Frozen stiff, boy. Once you're up amongst the snow you can't stop, only to get breath; you must push on; and I wish someone would give meorders to go on now. "

Marcus was silent for a few moments, as if thinking deeply. 

"Don't feel more sleepy, boy, do you?" said Serge, sharply. 

"No; that seems to have woke me up, " was the reply; and taking a fewsteps forward with difficulty, for his feet sank right in at every step, Marcus leaned over into the car and caught Lupe by the ear where he laycurled up with his rough coat on end. 

The boy's movement was quickly and excitedly performed, a feeling ofdread having attacked him that the dog might have been frozen stiff; butat the touch the animal gave a cheery bark, bounded out of the car, andbegan to plough his way through the snow, at first after the fashion ofa pig, and then by throwing himself down first on one side and then uponthe other. 

"I was half afraid, Serge, " said Marcus. 

"You needn't have been, boy, " replied the old soldier. "You see, Nature's given him a warm, thick coat, and he makes it thicker wheneverhe likes by setting his bristles up on end. "

"But that would make it more open and thinner, Serge. "

"Nay, but it don't, boy. Somehow it keeps warm all inside between thehairs, and the cold can't get through. "

"I don't understand why that should be, Serge, " said Marcus, thoughtfully. 

"I don't neither, " said the man, "but it is so. It's one of those funnythings in Nature. Why, look at the birds. What do they do when a snowstorm comes down from the mountains in winter? They don't squeeze theirfeathers down tight, do they?"

"No, " said Marcus, thoughtfully; "they seem to set them all up on end, just as they do when they go to roost, and they look twice as big. "

"To be sure they do, boy. You don't feel sleepy now?"

"No, not a bit. But I say, Serge, will there be more snow higher up thepass?"

"Most likely, boy; and I want to get at the job of fighting our waythrough it. We ought to be going on. Hallo! Hear that?"

"Yes. What does it mean?"

"It's the reason why we with the horses are not pushed on. That's whatI was afraid of. "

"Afraid?"

"There, don't take a man up short that way, " growled Serge. "I didn'tmean afraid; I meant expected. The enemy have attacked our men right upyonder in the front, and they've got us between them. Well, all thebetter. Something for us to do, and keep us warm. "

"But I was hoping that we might be pushed on now. "

"So was I, boy, but it won't be yet, " growled Serge. "I say, don't letyour mouth get watering for the new bread and warm milk just yet. "

"No, " groaned Marcus, rather piteously. 

"But it will be all the nicer and sweeter when it comes, boy. I say, there was only one thing that could possibly have happened to make usworse off. "

"What, having to fight in this snow, Serge?"

"Nay, that would have warmed us, lad. I meant, come on to snow. "

"Snow at this time of year?" cried Marcus. 

"It snows up in the mountains at all times of the year, boy, " growledSerge. "Down below in the plains it only rains, but up here it snows;and here it comes, and someone else too. I expect things are goingwrong in the rear, or else he has heard the attack in front, and hascome to see. "

For a blinding and dense squall of snow came raging through the pass, leaving horsemen and chariots as white as their chief, whose horse camechurning its way through the hail-like coating that stood half way upthe wheels, close to which its rider reined in. 

"Find it cold, my lads?" he cried cheerily, and was answered by a chorusof assent. 

"Well, I've brought you up news to warm you. The men below are holdingthe enemy in check, and they have begun to retire, which means tosupport us and drive those back who are trying to stop us at the head ofthe pass. Make ready. Ah, my boy, you there? Well, are you tired ofseeking your father?"

Marcus shook his head. 

"Well, " said the captain, "tired or not there is no going back, for youcould not cut through two or three thousand of the enemy alone. There, we shall soon be through this frozen pass, and making our way down intothe sunny plains. Winter now, and summer this time to-morrow. Readythere, advance!"

As their chief spoke loudly, Marcus caught sight through the haze ofsnow which seemed to hold the darkness of night above, the head of acolumn of the foot soldiers making a steady advance, looking as if theywere wearing a fresh form of decoration, every man's helmet plume beingincreased in size by a trimming of the purest, whitest swans-down orfilmy, flocculent silver itself. 

But there was no time for studying appearances; all now was stern, earnest work. At the first order given by the chief, Lupe seemed totake it that he was concerned, and set up a hoarse barking, which seemedto animate the chariot horses, notably his friends attached to Marcus'chariot, which began to stamp and paw up the snow beneath their feet, while when their driver took his place by their heads they plungedforward, tugging the heavy vehicle out of the ruts into which the wheelshad cut for themselves. Then with the snow squall driving on beforethem leaving the trampled snow ahead freshly smoothed, and lighting thedarkness of the night, there was a dull, grinding, creaking sound ofwheels and yielding snow as it was trampled down into a better road, andgood progress was made, for the slope in advance was more gradual, andthe hollows and pitfalls between the rugged stones that strewed the waywere levelled down. 

It was a strange and weird procession, as Marcus tramped on step by stepwith Serge, behind the chariot, into which Lupe had suddenly leaped tostand with his paws planted upon the front of the vehicle, which nowlooked as if it had been turned into silver. And there were momentswhen the boy felt that it must all be part of a dream. 

But there was nothing dream-like in the sounds that came downwardbetween the great snowy walls, for they were those of desperatefighting--the shouts of defiance of the Roman soldiers mingled with thebarbarous cries of the Gauls, who had gathered together again in thegreat gateway from which they had been driven by the troops of CaiusJulius, and were now striving to prevent the descent of the Romanrear-guard into their fruitful plains, and if possible entrap these newtroops between their own forces, which were holding them shut in thedeep, long, wintry gorge. 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

A GOOD COMPANION. 

It was a curious sound, that made by the snow which lay so thicklybeneath sandal, hoof and wheel. As it was pressed together it literallysqueaked as if it possessed feeling and remonstrated at being crusheddown from light feathery snow into solid ice. 

The sounds it gave forth were at times quite loud, and were repeatedback from the towering rocks on either side. Farther on it would be asoft crunch, crunch, mingled with the bumping of wheels and the plungingof a horse as it struggled to drag its hoofs out of some depression intowhich they had sunk, while, animated by the presence of their leader, the horsemen cheered on the animals they led, and the charioteers helpedtheir pairs to drag the heavy cars over the snow-covered track. 

The pass grew more and more like some huge rift in the mountain whichseemed to have been split open by lightning, whose form the deep way hadin some degree assumed. 

For a few hundred yards the train would be going straight, till an acuteangle was reached, when for a distance the line would be forced toalmost double back to another point and double back again. It was asavage kind of zig-zag which always led higher and higher, while as theyneared the top, the snow grew deeper and the walls on either sidecloser, while these were not only perpendicular but in many casesactually overhanging. 

The horses' hoofs and the chariot wheels at last sank in so far, inspite of their being unburdened, that the leader commanded a halt forrest, and as this order was obeyed, Marcus, from where he stood panting, with one hand that had been used to push forward the chariot resting nowupon its back, felt awe-stricken at the strange silence that for amoment or two dwelt deep down in the jagged furrow, before it was brokenby the peculiar panting of exhausted men and steeds who were striving toregain their wind, while a mist formed by the breath rendered everythingindistinct along the line, as it rose visibly on high. 

For plainly now from the front came the sound of contending warriors, apparently close at hand, though far enough away as yet, but increasedin power by being condensed into a narrow space, as it reverberatedalong the pass from wall to wall. 

But not alone from the front; fainter, but minute by minute gatheringstrength, similar sounds came from the rear, telling plainly enough ofthe fight that was going on where the foot-men were holding back theadvancing enemy during a steady retiring movement that could hardly becalled a retreat. 

"I don't like this, boy, " whispered Serge, who was resting against theother side of the chariot. 

"Are we being beaten, Serge?" asked Marcus. 

"Oh, no, boy; they can't beat us. But they have got us in this narrowgully where only a few men back and front can fight at once. Why, youknow for yourself here are all our mounted troops and us with thechariots doing nothing but struggle through the snow, and never gettinga spear thrust at anyone. That's why I say I don't like it. I want tobe doing something, and when I say that it's just what everyone feels asit makes his blood hot. I say, boy, you don't feel cold now?"

"Cold?" cried Marcus. "Oh, no; I only want to keep going on. "

"Wait a bit, boy, and you shall have enough of that. Our captain isn'tletting us rest just to amuse ourselves. It will be forward directly, and quite soon enough for the horses, for it's hard work for them; and Isay, " continued the old soldier, jocosely, "this is a bit of a changefor you, my boy. You never thought there was a place like this so nearto Rome, where the people are lying grumbling now because it is so hotthat they cannot sleep, and panting just like old Lupe there. "

For the dog was just between them, sitting up in the back of the car, sometimes turning his head towards one, sometimes towards the other, lolling out his vibrating tongue and sending out puffs of visiblevapour-like steam from Vesuvius. 

"He's making believe that he's been working very hard, " said Marcus, laughing, "when he's been riding all the time. But all this does seemvery strange, Serge. I couldn't have believed this was possible at theend of summer. "

"Suppose not, " growled the old soldier. "You see, you don't knoweverything yet, my boy. There's a deal to learn, as I found out yearsago when I first went to the war with the master. But it's all doingyou good, and you will like it by-and-by when you look back and think ofit all, for there isn't much time to think just now. I say, have yougot your wind again?"

"Oh, yes, I am ready, and the horses are beginning to leave off panting. I shall be glad when we make a fresh start. I want to get to the top. "

"That's what we all want, boy--to get to the top of everything--but thesooner we get to the end of this narrow crack and can expect that itwill begin to open out and give us room to swing our arms, the better weshall all like it. The chief ought to be thinking of starting upafresh, for there's a deal of fighting going on back and front. "

The sounds that came floating to their ears, echoed from the snowywalls, made this all plain enough, while the shouting from the rear grewnearer and nearer; and then it seemed that the rear-guard was comingmore rapidly on, just as the order to move forward came from the frontand passed along the line. 

With a couple of halts for rest the troops plodded on and the horsesstruggled for another hour, and then, to the great delight of all, theword came back from the front that the height of the pass had beenreached, that the head of the column was beginning to descend, and thatnot far in front their comrades were holding the enemy in check. 

This intelligence was like an invigorating breath of air to the littleforce. The men stepped out and dragged and pushed, and the cries of thedrivers had a cheering sound, as they called upon their horses in a toneof voice which made the struggling beasts exert themselves more thanever. 

It was still terribly hard work, but there was no upward drag; the greatstrain was gone, for the descent was steep, and a great portion of theweight the chariot horses had to draw seemed to have been taken off. 

The pass was still walled in by towering heights, but it was rapidlyopening out, and at the end of another hour the advance force, which hadcontented themselves with holding one of the narrowest portions of theway, had been strengthened, and pressed back the enemy. 

There was another halt of the chariots, to enable a portion of thetroops from the rear to close up and pass through to the front to jointhe advance, a manoeuvre which the panting men, as they struggled overthe beaten snow, obeyed with alacrity, eager to get into action andbring to an end the hours of suspense through which they had passed incomparative inaction while listening to the echoes of the fighting goingon in front and rear. 

"There, boy, " said Serge, cheerfully, as they found time now to talk aswell as rest; "this don't look like being beaten, does it?"

"I don't know, " said Marcus, dubiously. "We seem as much shut up asever. "

"Nay, not us! Why, the walls are ever so much farther back, and we havegot more room to breathe. "

"But it's horribly dark still, " said Marcus, rather wearily, "and thesnow seems as deep. "

"Not it, " cried Serge. "And see how it's trampled down. Then it isn'tso cold. "

"Not so cold!" cried Marcus. "Why, it's terrible!"

"Not it! Why, since we have been coming down a bit we have got moreinto shelter, and that cutting wind that came up the pass isn'twhistling about one's ears. "

"Well, no, " said Marcus. "That is better. "

"Better, yes; and so's everything else. It won't be long now before thepass widens ever so much, and we shall begin to leave the snow behind;and then as soon as we get on to level ground the captain will get hishorse to work to drive the barbarians back towards the plains below, andthen--you'll see that our turn will come. "

"To fight, Serge?"

"Yes, boy. He'll be letting loose his chariots then, and when he does, the fighting will be over for to-day. "

"For to-day!" said Marcus, with a faint laugh. 

"Well, yes, it must be getting towards morning, and before many hours weshall be seeing the sun again, and if we are lucky have made a jump outof winter into spring. But there, keep up your spirits, boy. I can seea good breakfast ahead, and a long sleep in the sunshine waiting for usdown below when we have cleared these flies out of our path. They are aworry now, but you'll see before long. "

Marcus was destined to see more than his old companion anticipatedduring the next few hours, and events began to crowd rapidly one uponanother's heels. 

Their advance was no sooner strengthened by the foot-men who had been solong inactive while crossing the pass, than changes began to occur, foremost among which was the progress forward, the little force nowpressing steadily on downward. 

It was wintry and dark and the fighting was still going on with theenemy, who were slowly giving way, while to balance this the attack onthe rear was still kept up. But the pass was opening more and more, andduring the next few hours the progress of the little force had been slowbut steady, the first rays of the sun shining upon the jaded men andhorses halted in a sterile amphitheatre surrounded by rocks whichafforded a fair amount of protection, Nature having formed the hollowwith but one entrance and one exit, her instrument for carving out thedepression having probably been a huge river of ice descending from theheights behind towards the plains below, of which glimpses now began toappear. 

Rest was imperative, and evidently feeling that his position was farfrom safe, their leader had set a portion of his men to strengthen theopening front and rear by means of the ample supply of scattered rocks, many of which only needed a few well-directed thrusts to partly block upthe rugged track and form an adequate defence. 

This done and his foot-men disposed to the best advantage for theprotection of the still crippled mounted force, it was expected by allthat a few hours' rest might be obtained. 

The position was bad, and their leader had intended to have pressed ondownward to the plains; but the enemy in the rear had advanced soswiftly, their allies given way so stubbornly, that he was forced toseize upon the hollow which offered itself as being a naturalstronghold, here to breathe his men and recruit for a few hours beforemaking a final dash. 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

THE CHIEF. 

Marcus woke up that same evening to find himself lying back in thechariot with Lupe sitting watching him intently. 

"Hallo, Lupe, " said the boy, thickly; "what's the matter?"

The dog's answer was given with his tail--just one sharp rap on thefloor of the vehicle, nothing more. So Marcus looked round him, feelingconfused, and wondering what it all meant, for after so much exertionand excitement his brain had taken a thorough rest from which the boy'sbody was now awakened, but not his thinking powers. 

"I don't quite understand it, " he said to himself, as he caught sight ofclusters of armed men, whose spears glittered in the evening sunshine, gathered together upon the mountain slopes around, and he soon satisfiedhimself that they were not Romans or any of the mercenaries whoseappearance he knew. 

It was easy to see, for nearer to him were his own people, one here andthere perched upon some eminence, evidently on the look-out, and byrunning his eye along the edge of the rough amphitheatre he could tracenearly all the sentries, and at the same time note that beyond them inevery ravine running downward there were hundreds of those who he atonce concluded were the enemy. 

"There are a great many of them, " said Marcus to himself coolly, for hewas not yet fully awake to his position, "and they seem to be very near;but our men appear to be ready for them, and the cavalry are standingwith their horses waiting, I suppose, for orders, while--yes, thechariots! The horses are harnessed in. Are mine? Yes, and the driverready. "

Marcus had raised himself to look over the front of his chariot--amovement which excited the dog, who began to whine, and then watched hismaster eagerly as if to see what he would do next. 

"It looks as if we are going to make a fresh start, " thought Marcus;"and a good thing too, for it is chilly and cheerless; but we can't getaway from here without fighting. "

This last thought came with a look of excitement, for the boy's brainwas growing clearer and he was rapidly grasping the fact that they weresurrounded by a vast number of the enemy. 

"What has become of Serge?" he said, half aloud. 

The old soldier came into sight almost as he asked the question, carrying a vessel of water in one hand and something that looked like acake of bread in the other. 

"Awake, boy?" he said, as he came out. "I thought you'd be hungry whenyou did open your eyes, and so I managed to get this, but I've nigh hadit snatched away three times as I came back, for our fellows are gettingsavage for want of food. Not that it matters much, for they'll fightall the better to get down to the plains and plunder. "

"Then we're going to fight, Serge?" cried Marcus, eagerly. 

"Not much doubt about that, boy. "

"And start downward for the plains?"

"Ah, there's a deal of doubt about that, my lad. I dare say the chiefwould like to, but we're regularly shut up in this rocky hole. "

"But he ought not to have let the enemy shut us up, ought he?"

"It was a case of can't help it, my boy, " growled Serge. "From the timewe halted this morning the barbarians have been gathering round andstreaming down from the mountains, till there they are, thousands uponthousands of them, hanging on the hills and running down the hollowstill they look like human rivers. We were obliged to have a rest andrefresh, for a man can't go on fighting and marching for ever, even ifhe be a Roman; and ever since we've been resting the enemy has beencollecting, till they are like you see. Well, why don't you lookround?"

"I did, " cried Marcus, "and saw all this before you came. Then we're ina sore strait, Serge?"

"Yes, a very sore one, boy; but eat your bread. "

"Not now, " said Marcus, quickly. "Let me have a drink of water. "

He took hold of the vessel and had a long, deep draught, one whichseemed to clear away the last mental cobweb from his brain. 

"Now eat a bit, " said Serge, offering the cake; but the boy shook hishead and swept the surroundings with anxious eyes. 

"Very well, " said the old soldier. "You'll be hungry by-and-by. " Andslipping the cake into his wallet, he looked sternly at the boy, whoturned to him directly. 

"Then you think that we shall not be able to cut our way out, Serge?" hesaid. 

"Sure of it, boy. They're too many for us. "

"Then what is to be done?"

"What the chief likes, boy; but if I were he I should stand fast and letthe enemy hammer at us till he grows tired of losing men. "

"Then you think we can beat them off?"

"Yes, boy, for a time; but we've got no stores to speak of, and evenRomans can't, as I said before, or something like it, go on fighting forever. But we shall do our best. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, with a sigh, as he looked thoughtfully round, unconsciously playing with the dog's ears the while, to that animal'sgreat satisfaction. "But I don't like it, Serge. "

"You don't? Well, you're a queer sort of a boy, then, " growled the oldsoldier. "I never met a boy before who said that he didn't likefighting. "

"I did not say so, " cried Marcus, sharply. "I was talking about ourposition here. "

"Oh, I see!" growled Serge. "What about it? Strong enough foranything. "

"Perhaps so, but here we are shut in amongst all these rocks, with noroom for the horsemen or the chariots to be of any use. How could wegallop along here, or how could the cavalry attack?"

Serge took off his great helmet, wiped his brow with the back of hishand, and stared hard at his young companion for some moments, till theboy noticed the heavy, fierce look, and coloured. 

"Why do you look at me like that?" he asked. 

"Cause you make me, boy?"

"How? What do you mean?"

"Who taught you to talk like that, boy? Anyone would think you were ayoung general. "

"Nonsense, Serge!" cried Marcus, with the tint upon his face growingdeeper. "I spoke like that because you taught me and made me understandabout the uses and movements of horse and foot. I'm sorry I was notright, but you need not laugh at me. "

"What, boy?" cried the old soldier, warmly. "Laugh at you! Why, if Igrinned it was because I was pleased and proud to see what a cleverfellow you are growing up to be. Why, a well-trained old soldier couldnot have spoken better. You're as right as right, and it is unfortunatethat our chief should be surrounded here in a place where he can't usethe best part of his troops. But there, we won't argue about it. 'Tarn't a common soldier's duty to talk over what his general does. What he, a fighting man, has to do is to fight and do in all things whathe is told. Do you see?"

"Yes, Serge, I see, but--"

Marcus ended by making a sign intended to mean, Hold your tongue. 

But Serge did not interpret it rightly. 

"Yes, I see what you mean, and it's of no use to say `but' to me. Ourchief is a thoroughly good commander of men, and if he has got us intothis hole of a place, where we are all shut up tightly without a chanceto get out, why it's--"

Serge stopped short, to draw himself up tightly, for all at once heunderstood the true meaning of Marcus' sign, having suddenly becomeaware of the fact that their captain had in going from post to poststopped close to his elbow, and had heard nearly every word that hadbeen spoken, while it was evident that he was thinking of something elseat the same time, for he finished the old soldier's sentence for him inthe way he interpreted it. 

"Why, it is his duty to get us out of it, eh, my man? That is what youwere going to say, is it not?"

"Well, something like it, captain, " faltered the veteran; "but I didn'tmean no harm. "

"Of course you did not, but you were teaching this boy to criticise hissuperiors. Well, my man, you as an old soldier can see that we are in avery dangerous position. "

"Yes, captain. "

"And that if I try to cut my way out with the force I have at my commandI may succeed. "

"You will succeed, captain. "

"Well, yes, I believe I should, " said the captain, quickly; "but itwould only be with the loss of a great number of men that could not bespared, and my division would afterwards be of little value to the mainforce. "

"Yes, captain; that's right, " growled Serge. 

"Spoken like a good old fighting man, " said the chief. "Now, then, speaking with your experience, what is best for me to do?"

"Set the men to build up rough walls with the stones, twice as strong asyou have already. "

"Good! Go on, " cried the chief, while Marcus stood listening with hislips apart, and quivering with excitement the while. 

"Then sit fast and wait. "

"Without supplies?"

"Plenty of water from the spring yonder, " growled Serge. 

"Food?" said the chief, sharply. 

"Foraging parties, " continued Serge. 

"Not to be depended upon in this high desert, man. "

"Capture the enemy's provisions, " said Serge. 

"Doubtful, my man, " cried the captain. "Can you propose nothing else?"

"Send off messenger at once on to the generals in front, telling how youare fixed, and asking for help at once. "

"Hah!" cried the captain. "That is what I was waiting for you to say. Now for the messenger I must send to Julius and Cracis. "

"Someone who knows the country. "

"There is no one, " said the captain, sharply. "Whoever goes must findhis way by the traces left by the generals. "

"Yes, that's right, captain, " said Serge. 

"Well, man, whom am I to send?"

"Me!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "I'll find my father and take yourmessage. "

"You shall, boy, " said the captain, catching Marcus by the arm. "It iswhat I planned, for I am going to send to Cracis, who will be directingthe forces and the arrangements of the campaign, while Caius Juliusleads the men. You, boy, have one of the best chariots and the swiftesthorses in the force. There is no need for me to write if you tell yourfather that you come from me. Tell him everything you know, and that Iam going to hold out to the last, even if I have to butcher the horsesthat the men may live. Tell him I am in a perilous strait, and thathelp must come to save me and give the enemy a lesson that they will notforget. "

"Yes--yes, " cried Marcus; "and I start at once?"

"Not yet, only be quite ready to dash off yonder by the lower trackwhich you can see leading downward through those hills. I say dash off, but only if the enemy make for you. If you are not followed hastenslowly for your horses' sake. Remember that he who goes softly goesfar, and I want sureness more than speed. "

"But he can't get out yonder, captain, " growled Serge, fiercely. "Youare going to kill the boy. "

"Well, " said the captain, with a peculiar smile, "could I honour the sonof great Cracis more than by letting him die for the sake of hiscountry?"

"That's all very grand in sound, captain, " cried Serge, grasping Marcus'other arm, "but he's my boy as much as his father's, and I won't standby and see him go alone to sudden death. "

"Serge!" cried Marcus, fiercely. "How dare you! Captain, don't heedhim; I am ready to go the moment you say the word, and--and--"

"Well, boy?"

"If I am killed, " continued Marcus, struggling hard with his emotion, "and you ever see my father again, tell him, sir, that I went to mydeath doing my duty, as he taught me, and praying that he will forgiveme for disobeying his commands. "

"I will, boy, " cried the chief, warmly; "but it shall not come to that, for you will reach your father, I feel sure, and bring me the help Ineed. "

"He can't, captain, I tell you, " cried Serge, fiercely. "Yes, you maypunish me, a common soldier, for speaking as I do, but I tell you onceagain that I will not stand by and see my dear old master's sonbutchered, for it's nothing else. A boy like him, brave as he is, oughtnot to be sent, even if it is for his country's sake, when there areplenty of stout, strong men who could do the work as well or better, because they are hard and tough. "

"Be silent, Serge, " cried Marcus, passionately. "Don't punish him, captain; he means well, but he is half mad to speak to you like that. "

"You need not appeal, my boy, " said the captain, smiling. "I shouldpunish no man for being brave and true to those he has served. "

"But I tell you, captain, " raged out Serge, "that it would be likemurder to send the boy like that. "

"Silence, old madman, " cried the captain. "Why, I should be as mad asyou even to think of doing such a thing. Listen, boy; be ready, andwhen the rest of the chariots are moved off towards the upper part ofthe track along with the rest of the force, you will keep back amongstthe rocks. I shall lead the men myself and make a feigned attack as ifI were going to retreat back by the way we came; and in the excitementand confusion, when the enemy yonder have drawn off to go to theircompanions' assistance and take me in the rear, you will watch yourchance and escape. "

"Yes, I see, " cried Marcus, excitedly; and the captain went on:

"The chances are that if you are noticed no one will try to stop you. It will be thought that you are deserting and seeking your safety inflight. "

"Yes, yes, " cried Marcus; "and now I shall be sure to succeed. "

"Yes, captain, that's better, " growled Serge, in his deepest tones. "Ilike that. "

"Then take good heed to his safety, man, " cried the captain, warmly, "and die for him if there is need, for I would rather lose a hundred mensuch as you than one like him. "

"But--but--" stammered Serge, "you don't mean--"

"I don't mean!" cried the captain. "Why, the boy is right: you are anold madman to think that I would send that brave boy alone when he hassuch a faithful old follower as you at his side. No, no; go with him, and bring him back safely to me, along with the help I ask, or never seemy face again. "

Before he had finished, rough old Serge, with the big tears standing inhis eyes, was down upon one knee catching at the leader's hand andcarrying it to his lips. 

"There, there, there, " cried the captain, "time is precious. No more ofthis. Boy, you have the safety of this force in your hands. Oldveteran, I give you charge as bodyguard of this, my young despatchbearer. I do not tell you to do your duty, both of you; I only say, remember Rome. Farewell. "

The captain turned quickly away to join a knot of his chiefs who wereanxiously awaiting his return, and the next minute, fixed in theirpositions, neither feeling as if he had the power to stir, Marcus andSerge were alone. 

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

THE FIGHT BEGUN. 

Marcus was the first to break the silence. 

"Serge, " he panted, "isn't he grand!"

"Grand!" cried the old soldier, excitedly. "Grand arn't half bigenough. He's a hero, that's what he is; and only think of me with ahead like the old bull at home. Just as thick and stupid. Why, if hehadn't been such a great, wise, clever general as he is, he'd haveknocked me down with the hilt of his sword. But it's all right afterall, and look here, boy, you've got to do it. "

"We've got to do it, Serge, " cried Marcus. "Why, the idea is splendid;but I say--Lupe?"

"What about him?"

"What are we to do with him?"

"Nothing, " said Serge, promptly; "he'll do for himself. Why, if youmade up your mind to leave him behind he'd come. "

"I suppose so, Serge. There's no press-house here in which to shut himup. "

"No, and there's no other way of getting rid of him but cutting off hishead, " said the old soldier, grimly; "and you wouldn't like to do that. "

"Serge!" cried Marcus, taking for the moment his companion's words asbeing meant seriously. 

"Ah, I thought you wouldn't, boy, " said the old fellow, smiling. "He'llhop into the chariot, of course, and when the way's clear we can let himdown for a run, and do him good. But no more talking; we've got to getready. "

"No, " said Marcus; "we're soldiers, and all ready now. I can seenothing to do but wait till we see that it is time to go. "

"And that isn't far away, " said Serge, "for here comes back one of thecaptains. Why, Marcus, boy, I feel happy enough to begin to dance. Just think of it: here we are off on quite a holiday, straight away forthe Roman camp, to get to your father at once, and--Oh, my thick head!I never thought of that!"

"Thought of what?" said Marcus. 

"What we're going to do: both of us going straight to face the lion andput our heads into his mouth. "

"You mean my father?"

"Of course. "

"Nonsense! He will have no time to think of punishing us. "

"Won't he?" growled Serge. "Trust the master for ever forgettinganything. We shall have it, and sharply too, after him and Julius havecome and done what they've got to do in the way they know how. "

"Pst! Don't talk, " whispered Marcus. "Look, this officer is giving hisorders to the leaders of the chariots, and here he comes to us. "

The boy was right, for a few minutes later the officer came quickly tohim, and his words were very short. 

"You have your orders from the chief, young man?" he said. "Stand fastthere among these rocks till the line of chariots has moved off, andthen go down to the lower camp where the foot soldiers are as soon asthey have changed their station. "

He turned away directly, and as their driver sprang up, quite on thealert as he saw that something was on the way, Marcus went to one pony, Serge to the other, to see that every portion of the harness was inproper trim; and Lupe leaped out of the chariot and then back to thefront, to raise himself upon his hind legs and plant his paws on thefront as if he were in command and issuing his orders, which took theform of a deep bay. 

Directly after a sub-officer, who was in command of the line, gave anorder, each chariot was manned, and following one another in file theybegan rattling and bumping in and out amongst the rocks and hollows, slowly and noisily in the direction of the highest point of the passfrom which the way had been fought so short a time before. 

"Look yonder, Serge, " cried Marcus, as he gazed beyond the outposts inthe direction of the hills that were dotted with the enemy. 

"Was looking, boy, " growled the old soldier, "It's running all round uswherever the enemy can see. Why, it's like putting a stick into awasp's nest and giving it a stir round. "

"Yes, look, look, look!" cried Marcus. "What an excitement! Does itmean that they are going to attack at once? Because if they are weshan't get off. "

"Nay, they are only getting ready. You'll see them settle down againdirectly to watch our men and make sure what we are going to do. "

The chariots moved on, one following the other till the rough line wasall in motion, only one standing fast, and that one calling for the helpof both Marcus and Serge, who at a word from the driver ran to the headsof the ponies to assist in controlling them. For as the last chariotstarted off they made a desperate plunge forward to follow, so takingthe driver by surprise that the pair went on a few yards before theywere stopped by Marcus and Serge hanging on to their bits and backingthem to the place from which they had started. 

"Don't like being left behind, " growled Serge. 

"Steady, boy, steady!" said Marcus, caressingly, as he patted thearching neck and smoothed down the wild, thick mane of the fiery littlesteed he held. "Wait a bit and we won't check you. You shall go, andas fast as you like, if we can only get clear ground. "

The swarthy little driver grasped the boy's words, and nodded and showedhis teeth, while in a few minutes the spirited animals were quieted downwhere they stood now with their heads turned from the slowly advancingline. 

"He ought to have been on the look-out, " growled Serge. "Hullo! Howthe chief must have been arranging all this!" And then he stoodsilently with his young companion, watching the changes that werebeginning to take place in their little force. 

The spot on which they stood was sufficiently elevated to give the pairof spectators a pretty good view of the little beleaguered camp. All atonce the line of chariots was halted, while a fresh agitation commencedwhere the cavalry had been posted. There was a quick change wherehorses and men were massed together, and the light played and flashedfrom helmet and shield, while the men's spears glittered like so manypoints of light, as they sprang on to the backs of their horses and soonafter were in motion, forming into another line which moved to the frontof the chariots and were stopped in due time a little in advance. 

"Why, he's making quite a show of it, " growled Serge, "and the littlearmy looks as if it were slowly going into action just for us to see. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, eagerly, "but look out yonder too. The enemy areadvancing. They are gradually coming down that deep little valley, trickling like a stream. "

"To be sure they are, " said Serge, "and they are doing the same overyonder too. "

"Well, doesn't that mean that they are going to attack at once?"

"No, boy; I fancy it only means to close us in and sweep us before themright up into the narrow of the pass again. They are beginning to takeit. "

"Take what?"

"Take what? Why, what our general means. I am not going to call him acaptain any more. He's acting like a general, and a good one too. Theenemy don't mean to attack--not yet, because you see they have got nohead man to make a big plan for them all to work together. You see, they are all little bodies and tribes and bits of tribes, each under itsown leader, and everyone thinks himself a general and acts just as helikes, and that's where they often get in a muddle, good fighters asthey are. Look at them now. There's another lot yonder going slowlydown from that hill into the hollow and coming creeping towards us. "

"Yes, and right away from that opposite hill there's another tribecoming down, " cried Marcus, whose voice was husky with excitement. 

"That's right, " growled Serge, "and don't you see, not one lot has movedtowards the upper pass. Why have they left that way open?"

"I don't know, " said Marcus. "Perhaps some of the enemy will movetowards it soon. "

"Not they, " growled Serge, with a deep, low chuckle. "Our general'slaid a trap for them, and they are walking in. They know that we mustbe running short of provisions, and they think that we are going toretreat. It looks like it, don't it? There goes an advance guard ofthe foot, marching to the front of the horse. Well done, brave boys!There are some fine men amongst them to step together like that! Yes, there they go, about a third of them straight for the upper pass, andthe whole of our little army will soon be under weigh as if in fullretreat. "

"And then the enemy will attack, " cried Marcus. 

"Perhaps not yet. They know what it's like up yonder amongst the snows, and they think that, tired and half starved, our poor fellows will bemarching to their death, leaving their enemies very little work to dobeside cutting down the stragglers. Ah, depend upon it, all theselittle petty generals think they have a great victory within their handswithout any cost to themselves, and that none of our poor fellows willget across the pass alive. "

"Oh, don't talk, Serge, " cried Marcus, excitedly. "Look at the enemy!There's more and more of them getting into motion. They are beginningto come from all round. "

"Yes, as I said before, like a nest of stingers stirred up with a stick;but we are getting all in motion too, " continued Serge. "Every captainhas had his orders, and he's beginning to head his men as it comes tohis turn. Look how the infantry are tramping along to lead the way!Now the horse are getting ready to start! Take it coolly, my lads. Youought to be leading those horses over that stony ground; but I supposethe general wants to make a show and let it seem as if we were in fullretreat. "

"Will the chariots go next?" asked Marcus. 

"Yes, boy, of course, with the baggage behind them, and all the strengthof the infantry to form the rear-guard. You can see that for yourself, for the foot-men haven't moved. "

"No, " said Marcus, "but the enemy are moving more and more into twogreat parties, advancing so as to meet where the pass begins to narrow. Why, Serge, if they get there first they'll cut our retreating line intwo. "

"They would, " said the old soldier, with a chuckle, "if they could, butour general will be too smart for that. He's got it all carefullyplanned out, and when those two great streams of men come together outyonder they will be well in the rear. But now look at them. You cansee right round the camp from here. What are the enemy doing? Tryingto surround us?"

"No, " said Marcus, after a long inspection; "they are all graduallyturning in the same direction and getting into motion, as if to drive usback into the pass. "

"Yes, and it looks pretty and bright up yonder with the sun shining onthe snow. To see it from here, boy, no one would think it meant bitterwinds and a cold that cuts through you and turns men drowsy so that theywant to lie down and die. "

"No, " said Marcus, with a slight shudder. "Ah!" he added, excitedly. "Our big rear-guard is beginning to stir, and the enemy are still movingon. Why, in a short time the lower part of the camp will have none ofthem beyond it. "

"That's right, " cried Serge, as he shaded his eyes and gazed long andfixedly towards the lower part of the amphitheatre far beyond which, looking green and beautiful, stretched away the sunny plains of Gaul;"and that means, boy, that things will be just as our general intendedthat they should, clear of the enemy and ready for us to creepcautiously down like a pack of deserters trying to save our skins. "

"Yes, but I want to be moving, " cried Marcus, who was ready to stampwith impatience. "I want to be leading the horses down through thiswilderness of rocks so as to get away to the open land, where we cansend them off at a gallop with the wind whistling about their ears. Iwant to see their manes and tails flying, Serge, and feel the chariotrock as the wheels spin round and bump over the hillocks and stones. Then on and on as fast as we can go, straight for the main army, to tearup to the guards with my message and bring them back. Oh, how slowlythey move! Why doesn't the chief hurry the men, and why doesn't theenemy follow them at a rush? I want to be stirring; I want to go. "

"Well done, young hurry-me-up!" chuckled Serge. "That's all verypretty. You want this and you want that, and you want to be racing theponies along and making the chariot rock and the wheels spin round, tillbump, crash, one of the wheels flies off or drops to pieces, over goesthe car, sending you yesterday and me to-morrow, and the driving boywith his head knocked off, while the poor ponies stand staring andbroken-winded, and no message taken to the master. "

"What are you talking about, Serge?" cried Marcus, angrily. 

"You, boy, and what you want to do, " growled the old man. "That's notthe way to carry a despatch, and if we are going to get where we want, it will have to be slow and sure. It will be all very well going to theheads of the ponies as soon as the way's clear and leading them in andout amongst the rocks, so that if any of the enemy sees us he'll thinkwe are sneaking away; but when that's done and we are clear of theenemy, what then?"

"Why, we must gallop off, " cried Marcus, excitedly. "This is not a timefor your slow and sure. "

"Oh, arn't it?" grumbled Serge. "Then you want to gallop right away atonce, do you?"

"Of course. "

"Which way? What way? And how?"

"What are you talking about?" cried Marcus. 

"You know, and yet you don't know. Where's our army? Haven't we got tofind the track they left?"

"Of course. "

"Yes, of course, boy, but where's the beginning of it?" growled Serge, as he made a comprehensive motion, sweeping round one hand. "There willbe no one to ask, for the country will be cleared--all the fighting mengone to the wars, all the women and children and old folk hiding amongthe mountains. Our army will have made a clean sweep of everything, andwe have got to eat. It all sounds very nice, my boy, but to go off at agallop such as you speak of means riding to nowhere, and the army neverfound. "

"Oh, Serge, don't talk like that. "

"Must, boy. We will gallop when we can, but lots of the time we shallpretty well have to crawl. "

"Oh!" groaned Marcus, as he felt the truth of the old soldier's words. 

"There, don't make a noise like that, but look round here and see what'sgoing on. It's a sight, boy, such as you may never see again. "

"I can't stand and look at sights, " cried the boy, angrily. 

"But you must. It's part of the work you have on hand. You must watchfor the time that is best for our start. You can't say anything tothat. "

"No, " sighed Marcus, "that's right; but see what a time we have beenwaiting now. It must be hours since the general came and gave me hiscommand. "

"Well, not hours, but it's a long time, boy, and it will be longer yetbefore we shall dare to stir. Why, there are thousands of men belowthere, and hundreds more coming into sight just along the part we shallhave to go, and we must wait till they have all marched off right andleft to join the rest before we shall dare to start. "

"But you are making the worst of it, Serge, " cried Marcus, eagerly, ashe glanced round from his post of observation at the magnificent sightof men in motion, glittering arms, trampling horse, and all framed in bythe sterile rocks, the snow-capped hills, and the dazzling blue skyabove. 

"Perhaps I am, boy, and all the better for us; but it's much the best tolook troubles straight in the face and not to come to grief from beingtoo hopeful. "

And as to time, so it proved, for after about another two hours hadelapsed, with the boy bubbling over with impatience, they were able tofeel that they might venture downward through the lower part of theamphitheatre, where they would be getting more into the shelter of rockand valley, and beyond the ken of the two trampling multitudes urgingtheir way on after the little army now in full motion higher up thepass, the leading foot showing still clearly and nearly as distinctly asif close at hand, though quite a couple of miles from where the chariotstood. 

"Ah, " cried Serge, at last, "now I think we will start. "

"Yes, come on, " cried Marcus. "But why did you say that?" he added, hastily. 

"Because the fight's begun, boy. "

"Where? How?" cried Marcus. 

"Look yonder towards that patch of grey rock which glitters in the sun. That's where our stout rear-guard is. If you look hard you will be justable to see something moving slowly and something like a dark cloud justbehind. That's the enemy's, front just coming into action, driving ourmen on. Hark! Do you hear how the hum of the enemy's troops' soundschanged?"

"Yes, I think so. It comes echoing along the rocks. "

"Well, that's the barbarians cheering the others on. "

"Oh, " cried Marcus, "the attack begun, when we haven't even stirred tofetch the help! Serge, shall we reach the army to-night?"

"Nay, nor to-morrow night either, boy. "

"And the fight begun!" cried Marcus. "Why, before we can get to myfather and Caius Julius our little force will be destroyed. "

"Bah! Don't you get setting up for a prophet like that. Do you thinkour men are going to sit down and let themselves be swallowed up withoutstriking a blow? What are you thinking of, boy? Isn't our generalmarching his men into the narrow gorge again where he will be safelywalled in, with only a little front to defend? You let him alone. Hewill stop and turn as soon as he has found a spot he likes, one that hecan easily hold; and there he'll be with his rear open for men to goover the pass and forage for food. He knows what he's about, and weknow what we have got to do. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, with a sigh; "we know, but--"

"But you needn't watch the going on of the fight, boy, for at thisdistance it's nearly all guess work and little see, and here as far as Ican make out no one can notice us if we begin to move, so now's the timeto start. "

"Ah!" cried Marcus, triumphantly, as he turned to the horse's head onhis side. 

Serge made for the other, and the great dog reared himself up with hispaws upon the front of the chariot and his jaws parted, to send forthone of his deep, barking volleys. 

But at a cry from Marcus he sank down as if abashed, and the only soundsthat were heard above the deep, low hum of the trampling army ofbarbarians, were the soft rattling of the chariot wheels, and the beatof the horses' hoofs upon the stony ground, as they began cautiously tomake for the end of the amphitheatre and its labyrinth of rocks. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

FIRST CHECK. 

It was a glorious change from the terrible inactivity of waiting toenergetic action, and the feeling was shared by all. 

Lupe leaped out of the chariot, the driver involuntarily shook the reinsto urge the ponies forward forgetful of the fact that they were held oneither side, and the beautiful little animals tried to plunge onward, but feeling the check upon their bits, snorted and began to rear whileboth Marcus and Serge had to make a struggle to control the desirewithin their breasts which urged them to break forward into a run. 

But the knowledge of the need of caution prevailed, and glancing toright and left in search of watching enemies, they had the satisfactionof seeing the chaos of rocks rising above their heads and quiteconcealing them, though on the other hand their progress became morepainful, their way more burdened with stones. 

But it was glorious work to Marcus. These masses of rock were onlydifficulties in the way waiting to be mastered. It was quite refreshingto leave the leading of the horses to the driver and add their strengthin pulling, pushing, and now and then seizing the spokes to hoist awheel over some stony bar. 

Their progress was slow towards the far end of the amphitheatre, butevery score of yards was something gained, and all worked eagerly tillat last the lower end of the amphitheatre was reached, where the rocksclosed in again and a small ravine was before them, whose bottom was thebed of a mountain torrent along which a shallow stream hurried, hardlyabove the soles of the adventurers' sandals, though the smooth rocks ofthe bed and sides showed plainly enough that there were times when afurious flood dashed along, laden with smaller stones and gravel, whoseeffects were to polish the bigger rocks in their way. 

"Better not talk, " growled Serge, as they began to make quickerprogress. "I don't suppose anyone is here; they'll all have gone to thefront; but you never know, and every bad word is picked up by the rocksand sent flying far away till it drops plump into somebody's ear. Steady's the word, boy. Keep your little chap still. I don't supposethis bit of a streamlet keeps like this. I expect the narrow bed opensout soon, for the hills seem to grow smaller and smaller here, and I amhoping that we shall come upon level ground so that we may get a gallopto stretch the ponies' legs. "

"Ah, I hope so, " cried Marcus, eagerly. "Now you are beginning to talk, Serge, like a man. "

"And that means, boy, that I was talking a bit ago like some old woman, I suppose. Well, part of a soldier's duty is to take care. Steady you, sir, and don't splash the water up like that, " the old soldier continuedsoftly to the pony whose head he held. "It's all very nice for you, andI dare say the water feels nice and pleasant to your hoofs; but keepquiet. You don't have to polish the rust off your armour--I do. I wishto goodness we could get on good dry ground. "

Like the rest of mountain torrents, the one whose bed they werefollowing zig-zagged in all directions, so that even from their oldpoint of vantage they had been able to see but a very little way along, and were quite content with the knowledge that the rocks rose up somefifteen or twenty feet above their heads, amply sufficient to shelterthem from the sight of the enemy who lay away on either side, while nowas they journeyed along the rocky bed, with the rattle of the wheelsmultiplied by the echoes, nothing was visible a hundred yards ahead, andas fast as one angle was turned there lay another a short distance infront. 

But they were descending towards the plains; the plashing stream as ithurried along taught them that, and at the end of about a quarter of amile of little interrupted progress they were cheered on by the factthat the rocks on either side grew lower, rapidly ceasing to afford themprotection, and before long hardly rising to their shoulders. 

There was another turn, and then another, and then Marcus cried eagerly:

"The hills are seeming to get farther away, Serge, and we must soon beout in the plain. I wonder what's beyond that turning. "

"Open ground, I should say, my lad, " said the old soldier, gravely; "butwe must take care. We want the open ground for the horses, but not forourselves. "

"I don't understand you, " cried Marcus, sharply. 

"I spoke plainly enough, boy. I meant this: no shelter for us, don'tyou see, and if the enemy look back some of them may turn and come inpursuit. "

"Ah, of course, " cried Marcus. "Well, if they do, and catch us, youwill have to fight, Serge, and drive them back. "

"That's right, my boy, and I'll do my best: but if I do, and get theworst of it, you never mind but go right on. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, drily, "when you are ready to come too. "

Serge grunted with satisfaction, and then, possibly from the solemnityof the desolate place along which they travelled, they tramped silentlyalong over the rocky bed, their footsteps and those of the horses beingthe only sounds as they neared the sharp angle where the stream bedseemed to open out. 

Marcus said afterwards that Serge should have been more cautious, andSerge retorted that Marcus was captain and ought to have sent on a scoutin front. But as it was, the scout who acted, sent on himself, and thatscout was Lupe, who, attracted by the openness of the rocks in front, suddenly bounded forward with a cheery bark, sending the water flying, and exciting the ponies into starting forward at a canter. 

Almost involuntarily the holders of their reins let go and, acting as ifon one impulse, caught at the sides of the chariot and sprang in, steadying themselves in their position as the heavy vehicle dashed onalong the shallow bed, which was now wonderfully free of stones, whilethe driver participating in the dog's excitement, uttered a low cry andshook his reins, so that a minute later the chariot swung round theangle into where the ravine suddenly came to an end and a low levelvalley opened out. Right at the edge of the stream, and not far infront, a cluster of rough camp shelters seemed to spring up before them, and from out of the huts where they had been sheltering from the sun, abody of about two score spear-armed men suddenly appeared. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

A NARROW ESCAPE. 

To have the horses turned, and gallop back along the narrow river bedfor their lives, was Marcus' first thought. His second, braver andbetter, was to shout to the driver at his elbow to urge the horses on attheir greatest speed. 

The man hardly needed telling, for as the first words of command werebuzzing in his ear he was shaking the reins and calling upon the bravelittle beasts to exert themselves to the utmost. 

"Forward, my beauties, " he yelled, "or the barbarians will have you, andbefore to-morrow you will be roasted and eaten. Gallop--gallop away!"

There was no time for Serge to talk, but he acted, and acted well. Picking up instantly two of the spears which hung at the chariot side inloops, he thrust one into Marcus' hand, retained the other, and stoodready to thrust. Marcus followed his example. Neither thought of usingtheir shields, but stood fierce and staring of aspect, watching theparty of men barring their way and shouting to them to stop. 

It seemed like the next moment that the enemy, who fully expected thestrangers in the chariot to surrender, found that to give up was thelast thought in their expected prisoners' breasts, and thereupon somedropped their spears, others were in the act of turning to fly, whenwith a dull, strange sound the chariot horses were upon them. Literallyupon them, for the gallant little beasts obeyed their natural instinct, as they galloped and rose to leap the pale of human obstacles and spearsin front, but only to come down quite short, trampling and spurning downthe enemy, over whom the chariot rolled, bumping, leaping and splashing, and directly after, untouched by the long spears held by the uninjured, the driver turned the horses slightly, and their next bounds were upondry land, rough and rugged enough, but free from any great impediments. Then away and away as hard as they could go, while the more active ofthose who were not hurt, recovering themselves a little from the shockand scare, came after the charioteers in chase with levelled spears. 

"Splendid, Marcus, boy!" cried Serge. "Bah! You need not look back;they'll give up running directly. You did not think they would catch usup?"

"No, " replied Marcus, breathing hard, "but stop! Stop! Lupe isfighting with them, and they'll spear him if we don't go to his help. "

"Eh? Go back, boy? To certain death!" cried the old soldier, fiercely. "It couldn't be done if it was to save the finest dog in the world. "

"Oh, Serge!" cried Marcus, wildly. 

"The message to Julius and your father, boy. We must not think ofeither ourselves or the dog at a time like this. "

"You are right, Serge, " said Marcus, bitterly. "But poor old Lupe!" hecontinued, as he held on to the side of the chariot with his left handand gazed back. "He'll kill no more wolves when they come down from themountains over the wintry snow. "

"Why not?" growled Serge. 

"Because the enemy are spearing him. "

"I haven't heard him yelp, " cried the old soldier, "but I can hearsomebody shouting as if Lupe was spearing him. "

"Do you think so?" cried Marcus. 

"Ay, that I do, boy. It wouldn't be an easy job to stick a long-handledspear into old Lupe when he is bounding about attacking legs, andwaiting his chance to tackle throats. Like as not we shall find himcoming after us, scratched and bleeding perhaps, but not hurt more thanI can doctor him and set him right again, same as I've done more thanonce when he has had a turn with the wolves. "

"Ah, look, look!" shouted Marcus, joyously. "Why, here he comes!"

For all at once Lupe, who had been lost to sight, hidden as he was bythose of the enemy who had not taken up the pursuit, and who hadresented the dog's attacks by endeavouring to pin him to the earth withtheir long spears, now dashed into sight, proving that he was uninjuredby the bounds and springs he kept on making, barking furiously the whileat those who were keeping up their pursuit of the chariot, but whoseattention was now diverted so that they turned the points of theirspears to repulse the dog's attack. 

"Yah! Just like him!" cried Serge, angrily. "You ugly old idiot, you!Whether it's men or wolves, you always would have the last bite. Comeaway, stupid! Come here!" he roared again, quite oblivious of the factthat even if the distance had not prevented the dog from hearing, thenoise of the horses' beating hoofs would have effectually drownedSerge's voice. 

"Ought we not to stop and help him, Serge?" cried Marcus. 

"No, boy; you know we ought not. We've got to get on with that message, and we must think of nothing else now we are clear. We must not evenslacken while the path is so good; so keep on. You wanted a big gallop, so take it and be content, for the horses are going fast enough tosatisfy anyone. "

"Yes, " sighed Marcus. "But poor old Lupe!"

"He must take care of himself, boy, " growled Serge. "Look at him, charging at the enemy as he is, when he is doing no good and running therisks for nothing. "

"He has stopped the pursuit, " said Marcus. 

"Yes; but why can't he be content now he has done it, and come on, instead of asking them as plainly as a dog can speak, to thrust a spearthrough his ribs?"

"But he knows no better, " pleaded Marcus, who was watching all that wasgoing on, and feeling proud of the dog's bravery in charging the enemyfuriously from time to time, and escaping every thrust as if by amiracle. "I don't want to lose time, Serge, " cried Marcus, raising hisvoice so that his companion could hear, "but I am going to check thehorses for a few moments so that I can shout to Lupe. If he hears myvoice calling him he will come. "

"He's coming without, boy, " cried Serge, angrily. "Oh! Poor oldfellow! But it's his own fault. I knew he'd get it at last, and hehas. That thrust has been too much for him. Look!"

Marcus was already looking sharply enough to have seen, at the samemoment as his companion, Lupe make a rush at the halting enemy, whosespears flashed in the bright light; and then the dog rushed away again, to stand apparently barking furiously at his enemies, before dashing offafter the chariot for about a hundred yards, and then stopping short toroll over and over. 

"Killed!" cried Marcus, in a voice full of anguish. 

"No, " said Serge, hoarsely; "he's up again and tearing after us. "

But the next minute the dog had dropped again, and as far as those inthe chariot could make out in the increasing distance, was busilyengaged in licking his flank, and Marcus said so. 

"Not sure, " cried Serge, "but I'm afraid he has got an ugly dig. Is hegoing to lie down and die?"

"Surely not!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "No, he is up again, and here hecomes. "

"Then perhaps it is not so bad as I thought, boy. Yes, here he comes ashard as he can pelt. He can't be very bad, unless this is his laststruggle to get to your side. "

"And yours, Serge, " said Marcus, mournfully. 

"No, boy; it's you that he wants to reach, " said the old soldier, with agrim smile. "He likes me, but you need not talk--he loves you; and ifhe's very badly hurt he is putting all the strength he has left in himto get here to you. "

"Oh, Serge, " cried Marcus, as the ponies tore on, with the dog in fullpursuit, "it can't be so bad as you think!"

"Well, boy, I'm beginning to think you're right. He can't be so verybad, or he wouldn't be able to stretch himself out like that and comeover the ground faster than the horses are going, and that isn't slow. Look at the brave old fellow; that's just the stride he takes--"

"Stride!" cried Marcus, proudly. "He's coming on in bounds. "

"So he is, boy, and as I was going to say, that's just his way when hewants to overtake a pack of ravaging wolves who have been after oursheep. Well done, dog! Talk about muscles in his legs! I don't callthem muscles; he has legs like springs. "

The chariot horses still tore on at a fast gallop, the sturdy littledriver guiding them with admirable skill as they neared obstructions;but fast as they swept over the open ground, with the heavy chariotleaping and bounding behind, their speed was far out-paced by the greatdog which stretched out like a greyhound of modern times, and lessenedthe distance between them more and more, till he was so near that Marcusuttered a cry of horror upon making out as he did that the dog's flankwas marked by a great patch of blood. 

"Yes, " said Serge, gravely, "I see, boy, and I could find it in my heartto stop the ponies and take him into the chariot; but there is no needfor it. Can't be a serious wound, and he'll be close up to us inanother minute. "

"To reach us exhausted, " cried Marcus, bitterly; "and I shall alwaysfeel that we might have saved his life. "

Serge made no reply, but, frowning heavily, he watched the final effortsthe gallant animal was making. For gathering himself together for everyspring and putting all his strength in his efforts, Lupe bounded on tillhe was close behind the chariot, and Marcus uttered an encouraging shoutas he went down on one knee, while the next minute Lupe made atremendous spring, from which he landed in the middle of therapidly-going vehicle, and then couched down, bent his head over as helet himself fall over on his left side, and began licking his wound ascalmly as if nothing had happened more than the receiving of a bigscratch. 

"Why, Lupe, Lupe, old dog!" cried Marcus, as he knelt beside the woundedanimal hard at work over his natural surgery. 

Upon hearing the boy's voice the dog ceased his task, looked up inMarcus' face with his big intelligent eyes, beat the floor of thechariot a few times heavily with his tail, and then went on again withhis dressing of his wound. 

"There, " cried Serge, after looking back at the distant Gauls, "they'renot likely to pursue us, so make him ease the ponies down a little. Wemust not wear them out at the start. That's better, " he continued, asMarcus touched the driver on the shoulder and signed to him to moderatetheir speed. 

This done, Serge placed his spear in the loops and Marcus' beside it, before sinking down upon his knees on the other side of the wounded dog. 

"Now then, " he said, "let's see whether it's very bad or not, " and helaid his great hand upon the dog's head. 

Lupe ceased the licking upon the instant, and raised his head to gazeintelligently in the old soldier's eyes. 

"Good dog!" said the latter, speaking with gruff gentleness. "I won'thurt you more than I can help. "

As if he comprehended the old soldier's words and placed full confidencein his knowledge and power, Lupe stretched himself out fully upon hisleft side, extended his head, and, half closing his eyes, lay perfectlystill as if dead. 

"Poor old Lupe!" said Marcus, softly, and he took hold of the dog'sright forepaw, with the result that the poor animal winced, but onlywhined a little and did not try to withdraw his leg, but at the sametime began again to beat the floor of the chariot with his tail, keepingup the latter, as Serge carefully examined the injury. 

"Nasty place!" growled Serge. 

"Not dangerous?" cried Marcus, anxiously. 

"Dangerous? No, not it. He had got himself into the right positionwhen the spear thrust was made. It's bad enough, of course--"

"Oh, Serge!" cried Marcus. 

"But there's no likelihood of its being dangerous. The spear caught himon the flank and went right in alongside his ribs, from the thick hairabove his shoulder right away to the front of his hind jumper. "

"Deep in the flesh, Serge?"

"No, no; only just under the loose skin. "

"Has it bled much?" said Marcus, anxiously. 

"Plenty, my lad, but he won't die of it. Do you hear, Lupe, old boy?Your doctor says he is not going to do anything in the way of tying youup, for this is the sort of wound that has done bleeding and will healup without any more help than you can give it with your tongue; so go onand do what you like to it, just the same as you began when you werestopped. "

The dog ceased beating the floor of the chariot as Serge went on talkingto him, and as soon as the old soldier had given him a final pat or twohe resumed the application of Nature's remedy, paying no heed to thosein the chariot, which was now rolling steadily on and leaving the sceneof the late encounter farther and farther behind. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

IN THE TRACK OF AN ARMY. 

It was not easy to quiet down the half wild steeds. They had been goingthrough a long period of inaction since the fierce charge made on thenight of the encounter before crossing the snowy pass, and once theirdriver had, to use the horsey phrase, given them their heads, and urgedthem on to their top speed, their hot, wild blood had been bubblingthrough their veins, making them snort and tear along heedless of rock, rut, and the roughest ground. Marcus had told the driver to check themtwice over, but as soon as Lupe was in the chariot and both Marcus andSerge busy seeing to his wound, the speed began to increase, till thechariot was bumping over the open plain faster than ever; and though thecharioteer strove his best it was some time before he managed to get hislittle pair into hand again so that the pace grew moderate and theprogress was made at a gentle canter, instead of a wild gallop whichthreatened wreck over some projecting stone. 

"They were half mad with excitement, " cried Marcus, who was breathinghard. 

"Yes, " grunted Serge. "I thought we were going to be upset over andover again. Feel a bit frightened, boy?"

"Frightened?" said Marcus, looking wonderingly at his companion. "No!I liked it. Why, it was glorious to rush over the plain like that. "

"Wouldn't have been very glorious if one wheel had come bump against astone, flown all to pieces, and we two had gone flying one way and thechariot the other. "

"No, " said Marcus, laughing; "but that wheel did not, and we are all asright as can be, with the enemy left behind. "

"Yes, that's all very true, boy, " said Serge, who was pressing hishelmet a little farther back and holding it there so that he could get agood uninterrupted look all round. 

"You didn't like it, then?" said Marcus, smiling at his companion'sperplexed expression. 

"Course I didn't, " growled Serge. 

"Lupe did. Just look at him. He has curled himself up to go to sleep. That's a good sign, isn't it, that he is not badly hurt?"

"Yes, he's not going to be bad, " said Serge, without so much as a glanceat the sleeping animal. "Dogs always do curl up when they are hurt;"and he kept on staring anxiously ahead. 

"What are you looking for, Serge? More enemies?" asked Marcus. 

"No, " replied the old soldier, though it was more like a grunt than areply. 

"What are you watching for, then? Not stones? It's getting smoother, and we're going on at a nice steady rate now. "

"Yes, boy, we're going along at a nice steady rate, but I want to knowwhere to?"

"Where to?" cried Marcus, quickly. "Why, to find the main army, anddeliver the message. "

"Yes, boy, " growled the old soldier; "but where is the main army?"

Marcus stared at his companion for a few moments in completeastonishment, before gazing straight in front between the tossing manesof the cantering ponies, and then looked to right and left. 

"I don't know, " he said, at last. "Somewhere in front, I suppose. "

"Somewhere in front, you suppose!" grumbled Serge. "But where's that?Nowhere, I say. We shall never come up with them if we go on like this. We may be getting farther away at every stride. "

"Oh, Serge!" cried the boy, excitedly. 

"And it's O, Marcus!" growled the old fellow, sourly. 

"What's to be done Serge?" cried the boy, despairingly. "Why, we may belosing time. "

"Most likely, " said Serge. 

"And I was thinking that in flying along as we have been we were gettingnearer and nearer to the army. Now, then, what is to be done?"

Serge was silent for a few moments, and then said slowly:

"Well, boy, it seems to me that the best thing we can do is to bear offto the right. "

"But that may take us wrong, " said Marcus, excitedly. "Why not go tothe left?"

"Humph!" grunted Serge. "Because that may take us wrong, boy. You see, there's a lot of chance in it, and we must use our brains. "

"Of course. That's what I'm trying to do, Serge. "

"Don't seem like it, boy. We've got to track the army, haven't we?"

"Yes, " cried Marcus, "but they've left no traces. "

"Not that we have found as yet, boy, but they must have left somewounded men, or sick, belonging to the army or the enemy. If they'refighting their way, as is most likely, we may be sure that a good manymen have fallen. "

"Yes, that's reasonable enough, Serge, but we have seen no signs ofone. "

"Not one, " said the old soldier. "So as there have been no traces, wemust go by guesswork, mustn't we?"

"Yes, of course, " cried Marcus. "Well, you guessed and I guessed, and Ithink my guess will be the better one. "

"I know you do; but I don't, boy. "

"Why?"

"Because there's no reason in yours and there is in mine. "

"I can't see that, " said Marcus, stubbornly. "Show me how your way canbe better than mine. "

"That's soon done, boy, " said Serge. "Caius Julius will have a big armywith him, won't he?"

"Yes, of course; a very large one. "

"With plenty of mounted soldiers and chariots. "

"Yes, " said Marcus. 

"Well, would he pick out the roughest part of the country all among therocks, like you have, or the lower and more even way like mine?"

"You are right and I'm wrong, Serge, " cried Marcus, frankly. "Let's goyour way. "

The old soldier nodded, the order was given, and the driver turned hishorses' heads more to the right; but before they had gone far Marcuscaught his companion by the arm. 

"But suppose, Serge, that the army did not come this way at all? We donot know that it did. "

"How's that?" asked the old soldier. 

"Why, it might have gone by some other way. "

"Which?" growled Serge. 

"Oh, I don't know, " replied the boy. "There must be plenty of waysthrough the mountains by which an army could go. "

"No, there mustn't, and there arn't, without you go a long journeyround, and that a general is not likely to do. Passes through themountains are a long way apart; and besides, of course our new captainknew the way that Caius Julius was going, and this is the way he meantto follow if he had come on. "

"Are you sure?" said the boy, doubtingly. 

"Certain, my lad, or I wouldn't go this way. "

Serge had struck for the right, and he proved to be right indeed, forbefore an hour had passed the adventurers had good proof, the oldsoldier suddenly giving vent to a grunt of satisfaction. 

"What is it, Serge?" cried Marcus, eagerly, seeing that the old man wassmiling. 

"I'm right, " he said. 

"What! Can you see anything?"

"Yes; look yonder, boy. "

Marcus gazed in the direction the old man pointed, carefully scanningthe distance, but seeing nothing save the undulating stony plain withhere and there a stunted tree, and in one part a depression like an oldriver bed. 

"Well, " he said; at last; "I can see nothing. "

"Not looking right, " said Serge. 

"I've looked right and left, and down that hollow too, " said Marcus. 

"That's what I say. You haven't looked right up. Look up. "

"Up?" cried Marcus, who felt puzzled. "I do wish you would speak. There is nothing to see there but those crows circling slowly round andround. "

"That's right, " grunted Serge; "you have seen what I mean. "

"What, the crows?"

Serge grunted, and Marcus stared. 

"I don't know a bit what you mean, " said Marcus, irritably. "Don't, pray don't, waste time. "

"I'm not wasting time. I say we're on the right track, boy. Look atthe crows. "

"What for?" cried Marcus, angrily. 

"What for?" growled Serge. "S'pose you and me was at home and were outamong the pastures and up the lowest slopes of the mountains where wedrive the goats. "

"Well, what then?" cried Marcus, impatiently. 

"And suppose we saw crows flying round and round. What would you saythen?"

"That there was a dead lamb or a kid lying somewhere about, or that thewolves had been down and killed a sheep. "

"Well?" said Serge, with a dry look on his wrinkled face. 

Marcus was silent for a few moments, and then, "Oh, Serge, " he cried, with a look of horror, "you don't think--"

"Yes, I do, boy. Nay, I feel sure. There's been a big fight yonderwhere those crows are flying about. "

"Yes: I see, " cried Marcus. "But--but which side has won?"

"Ah, that we are going to see, my boy, and before long too. Turn a bitmore to the right, my man, " he continued, laying his hand upon thedriver's shoulder, and their direction was a trifle altered, with theresult that before long they were passing by the side of a portion ofthe plain where it was evident that a desperate encounter had takenplace from the large number of ghastly relics of the engagement that layscattered about, spread over the space of quite a mile. 

The scene was passed in silence, Marcus pressing their driver to urge onthe ponies till they were well ahead, after grasping the fact that astubborn stand must have been made, and that the action had beencontinued onward to where they stood. 

"Well, " said Serge, "you see all clearly enough now, don't you, boy?"

"I'm not quite sure, " said Marcus, thoughtfully, "though I think ourarmy must have won the day. "

"There's no doubt about that, boy, and in such a fight as it has beenthey could not help losing heavily; but I haven't seen the body and armsof a single Roman soldier, and that is a sure sign that they won theday, and then stopped to carry away their wounded and bury their dead. "

Marcus shuddered, and they rode on for a time in silence, passing hereand there a little mound, and as soon as they had cleared one the oldsoldier swept the distance with his eyes in search of another. 

Marcus looked at him questioningly. 

"Yes, boy, " said the old fellow, softly; "an ugly way of tracking ourroad, but a sure. Those hillocks show where they've laid some of ourpoor fellows who fell out to lie down and die, and there their comradesfound them. "

"War is very horrible, " said Marcus, after a pause. 

"Well, yes, " replied Serge, "I suppose it is; but soldiers think it'svery glorious, and as a man's officers say it is, why, I suppose they'reright. But there; that's not for us to think about. It's not horriblefor our Roman soldiers to stop and bury their slain, and their doingthis has made it easy for us to follow the track of the army. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, who was gazing straight before him; "and lookthere. "

Serge shaded his eyes, and gazed in the direction pointed out. 

"Yes, " he said, "that's another sign-post to show us our way, and I daresay we shall come upon some more, ready to prove that we are on theright track. The crows seem to have been pretty busy there, boy. "

"The crows and the ants, " said Marcus. 

"Yes, and maybe the wolves have been down from the mountains to havetheir turn. "

"Whoever would think, Serge, that those scattered white bones had onceformed a beautiful horse, just such a one as these we have in thechariot?"

"Ah, who indeed?" replied the old soldier. "But I don't know that wewant to think about it, boy. Let's think about your message and gettingon to deliver it. We must make the best of our way while the lightlasts, so as to get on as far as we can, as we know now that we're goingright. I should like to get down to some hilly or mountainous hit. "

"What for, Serge?"

"To climb up when it's dark. "

"Because you think it will be safe to sleep there?"

"No, boy; I was not thinking of sleeping till we get our messagedelivered. I was wondering whether we should be lucky enough to get sofar that after dark, if we climbed up high enough, we might be able tosee our people's watch fires twinkling like stars in the distance. "

"Oh, Serge, that would be capital!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "Do youthink we shall be so fortunate?"

"Don't know, boy, " growled the old soldier; "but hurry the ponies alongwhile we can see that we are on the right track. There's no reason whywe shouldn't be fortunate. "

"Oh, we must be, Serge, " cried Marcus. "It's horrible to think of ourgeneral and all his men shut up in that bitter snowy pass, fighting hardfor life, and always watching for the help that does not come. Forward!" shouted the boy, and at his word the driver seemed to make thehorses fly. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

MARCUS' PLAN. 

"Steady, steady!" cried Serge to the driver. "Mind that great block. "

For as they tore on, with more and more traces of an engagement teachingthem that they were going right, the driver seemed to be sending thefiery little pair he drove straight for a low mass of stone, contactwith which must have meant wreck. 

Startled by the old soldier's angry shout, the driver drew one reinsharply, making the ponies swerve right for another far more dangerousobstacle and but for Marcus' readiness in snatching at the other rein, aworse mishap would have occurred. 

They were saved from this, but the shouts had scared the fiery littlesteeds, sending them dashing frantically off in quite a fresh direction, while to Marcus' horror, he saw that it was into another danger in theshape of a vast body of the enemy who, as the flying ponies drew near, sprang to their feet from where they were lying behind a ridge. 

Getting the ponies once more well in hand, the driver, who saw nothingbut death for himself if they were taken, wrenched the heads of the pairround once more, just when they seemed about to plunge into the thickranks of the enemy, along whose front they tore in the intent ofsweeping round their line. 

But the hope was vain, for another body of men came into sight, risingfrom the earth where they had been lying, to form up at right angles tothe first body, and once more the direction of the chariot had to bechanged, then altered again and again, for to Marcus' horror foes sprangup in every direction they took, the country seeming alive with theenemy, and all prospect of getting through them and continuing theirdash for the Roman army at an end. 

"What's to be done, Serge?" cried the boy, at last. 

"Steady the ponies and let them get their wind again. "

This was done, the gallop being turned into a gentle trot and from thatinto a walk, while the fugitives watched the slow, steady advance of thebarbarians, who in their way, in spite of the name they received, appeared to be nearly as civilised as the Romans themselves. 

Their intent now seemed to be to make sure of the capture of the chariotand its occupants as they kept on closing up and gradually narrowing theextent of the open plain about which the galloping evolutions had takenplace. 

"It's just as if they knew that we were the bearers of an importantmessage, Serge, " said Marcus. 

"Seems like it, boy, but it is not, " was the reply. "We're enemies andinvaders on their lands, and they mean to take us at all costs. Itlooks bad too. "

"What does?" said Marcus, sharply. 

"The country being up like this. It looks bad for our army, boy. I'mbeginning to think that Julius has had to fight every step of the way hehas come, and if our message was not what it is I should say it was oursoldierly duty to give up attempting to get through with it. "

"What!" cried Marcus, with a look of horror, as he turned from watchingthe approaching enemy spreading out more and more over the open plain. 

"I said if it wasn't what it is, " said Serge, quietly. 

"But you wouldn't give up, Serge, come what may?"

"Do I look the sort of man to give up when I have work to do?"

"No, no, " cried Marcus, warmly. "It was wrong of me to think it evenfor a moment. But now, Serge, our way lies away to the left. "

"No, boy; I've been watching every turn we took, and if we kept on as weare now we should about be in the line our army took. "

"Then we must make a brave dash now and with lowered spears gallop rightthrough them. "

"And come down before we were half through their line, boy. "

"Oh, don't oppose what seems to be the only plan, Serge!" cried the boy, appealingly. 

"I oppose it because it means being killed or taken prisoners. "

"Then what can we do?" cried Marcus. 

"I'll tell you what's best, boy, " said the old soldier, thoughtfully. "They're a long way off us, both in front and on the left. "

"Ah, try and trick them?" cried Marcus. "I know!"

"That's right, then, boy, " said Serge, with a smile. "How would you doit?"

"Why like this, " cried Marcus, excitedly--"Pull up!" he cried to thedriver. 

The man obeyed, and the ponies stopped short, looking full of go, butwith their sides marked heavily with sweat and foam. 

"Now, " cried Marcus, laying down his spear and leaping out of thechariot, "out with you both. Lie down, Lupe! Quiet, sir!"

The driver and Serge sprang from their places and followed Marcus to theheads of their steeds, to begin patting and caressing them in the fullsight of the army. 

"Now, " continued Marcus, "you get back into the car, " and the driverstepped into his place. 

"Take hold of the reins and hold them ready, but sit down as if yourwork was done. You, Serge, lead one pony; I'll lead the other, andwe'll walk them slowly towards the enemy away here to the left. "

"So as to let them think we have given up trying to escape, and aregoing to surrender?" said Serge, quickly. "Well done, boy! That's justabout what I was going to say. "

"Then, " continued Marcus, "when we have slowly walked the ponies as nearto the enemy as we dare, resting them all the while, I'll give the wordto gallop off, and as the ponies are turned we two spring into thechariot as it passes, and we'll tear away for liberty. No stopping thistime, but use our spears. "

"That's right, " said Serge, rubbing his hands softly; "and I think theywill be so taken by surprise that we shall get through; and if wedon't--"

"Well, Serge, finish what you were going to say, " said Marcus, sadly. 

"It will be because it couldn't be done. "

"But it must be done. "

Just then a faint burst of cheering came to the adventurers' ears andbegan to run along the line upon their left, towards which they nowbegan to move at a walk. 

The next instant it was taken up in front to their right and rear. 

"They think we've surrendered, Marcus, boy, " said Serge, with a chuckle. "Here, do as I do; take off your helmet and pitch it into the chariot. It will look better. "

Marcus followed his companion's example, and leading the ponies, theadventurers advanced slowly towards the enemy on their left, still abouta quarter of a mile away, and Marcus had the satisfaction of seeing thatthe men had all halted, and those on the left were awaiting theirapproach, while all ideas of order or discipline were at an end, thelines breaking up and becoming so many loose crowds of armed men, instead of roughly-formed Greek-like phalanxes ready for action. 

Those were exciting moments, and as the time neared for giving the orderfor action, Marcus' heart did not fail, for it beat as strongly as ever, but a feeling of doubt began to grow as he glanced along the line of thearmy he was approaching, and then at the loose mass standing or movingabout at right angles, and thought how impossible it would be to dashthrough them. 

At last, when the chariot was about fifty yards from the line, and acouple of the enemy who seemed to be leaders stepped forward as if totake their weapons, Marcus, without turning his head, whispered softly:

"Ready, Serge?"

"Ready!" was the reply. 

"Then drop your rein when I say _Now_. You, driver, turn their heads atthe same moment and gallop away. "

For answer the charioteer gathered up the reins a little, when, startledat the touch, the ponies threw up their heads. 

What followed looked so natural upon the movement of the steeds thatwhen Marcus gave the word, and he and Serge stepped back together itseemed to the enemy as if the horses had snatched the reins from theirhands, and when the chariot was turned rapidly, to dash off, the actionsof Marcus and Serge in catching at the sides and swinging themselves inwere looked upon as attempts to help the driver check the endeavours ofa restive pair of horses which had taken fright and galloped away atfull speed. 

Consequently a burst of laughter arose, to travel down the line, everyman watching the progress of the supposed runaways with delight, whilethe body of men, now a disorderly crowd, instead of taking the alarm andclosing up with presented spears to receive and impale the runaways, caught the contagion of laughter and separated, tumbling over oneanother in their haste to escape the expected shock, and leaving a wideopening through which the horses tore, urged to their utmost speed bytheir driver's excited cries. 

Seeing this, Marcus shouted to Serge, who was ready with the spears andholding out one to Marcus. 

"No, no, " he cried, and seeing no danger he bent over the front of thechariot, making believe to snatch at the reins, and grasping his ideaSerge seemed to be seconding his efforts as they tore by, and it was notuntil the last of the enemy was left behind that any attempt was made tofollow, while even then the idea that it was a ruse went home butslowly. 

"Hurrah!" said Marcus, softly, for he did not dare to shout. "They maythink what they like now; we have got the start and ought to be able todrive clear away for the army again, eh, Serge?"

"I hope so, boy, but after what I've seen I'm afraid that the passage ofour army has roused up the whole country, and that we shall be meetingenemies every step of the way. "

"Oh, don't say disheartening things after this escape, Serge, " cried theboy, excitedly. "That's right, lad; keep them going for a bit longer, and then steady down again to give them breath. Look at the beautifulbeasts, Serge. I wish we were mounted upon them, instead of lettingthem drag this heavy chariot. "

"I'm looking at the enemy, my boy, " cried Serge. "They don't seem toknow the truth yet, but scores of them are coming after us at a run. Idon't think they'll catch us though, for we are going four feet to theirone. "

"Yes, but we must not distress the horses. Steady! Steady! An easygallop now. That's better. A quarter of an hour like this, and we canlaugh at them, unless old Serge is right and enemies are ready to springup everywhere in our way. "

"Ah!" shouted Serge, at that moment, and the ponies took his cry to meanfaster, and increased their speed. "No, no, " he cried. "Steady, steady! Look, Marcus, boy, we are going right, " and the old soldierpointed to another of the grim traces of war in the shape of anoverturned chariot, with the skeletons of the horses that had drawn itlooking ghastly and strangely suggestive of what might have been theirfate, or might happen even yet. 

Before long the crowded together lines of the enemy began to grow moreand more confused; then the idea of distance manifested itself more andmore, and those who had pursued melted away into the main body, whilethe gallant little steeds, whose pace had been slackened down into asteady hand gallop, were eased more and more, to proceed at a gentletrot such as they could easily keep up, till they were checked in themidst of a green slope that ran along by a pine wood, pleasantindications of the mountain land being left behind. 

Here a clear cool stream ran prattling along, towards which the poniesstretched out their necks and were allowed to drink, their example beingfollowed by those they had drawn, a short distance higher up, and Marcusrose looking eager and refreshed. 

"We shall do it, Serge, " he cried; "but I have seen no signs lately ofthe army having passed this way. Have you?"

Serge gave him a peculiar look. 

"Yes, " he said, roughly; "there has been fighting just yonder, if youlook for it; but don't, boy. I want to get on gently again, and to findsome sign of a farm, or peasants' hut. We must have food of some kindif we are to do our work. Let's get a little farther on, and then Imust forage. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, sadly. "It seems waste of time, but it must bedone, I suppose. But why not let the ponies browse a little here? See, they have already begun. "

"Because it will be of no use for us to look about here. "

"Of course not, " said Marcus, hastily, and he stood looking hurriedlyround, to see for the first time that all along the edge of the forestwhich should have been bordered with fresh green bushes, was broken downand trampled, while not far from where he stood fire had been doing itswork, and a large portion was blackened stump and skeleton-like stem. 

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. 

MARCUS' PROMISE. 

"Seems to me, my lad, " said Serge, "that we ought to have been startedon this journey two days earlier. "

"Yes, Serge, " replied Marcus, in a despairing tone. "It's maddening. Here have we gone on, almost starved, never getting a proper night'srest--"

"Well, but that's nothing to grumble at, my boy. That's soldiering;that is what I always told you. A soldier must be ready to fast and gowithout sleep, and be always prepared to fight. Now, didn't I teach youthat?"

"Yes, Serge, but I didn't quite understand it then. "

"But you do now?"

"Oh, yes, I know now; and I wouldn't care a bit if we could onlyovertake them. Three times over during the past week we have been soclose that half a day's march must have brought us to the army. "

"That's true, " said Serge; "and each time we were cut off by parties ofthe enemy, and driven back, just as we thought we could march in, findthe master and Caius Julius, and deliver our message. Fortune of war, my lad; fortune of war. "

"Misfortune of war, " cried Marcus, angrily. "Here, I don't know howmany days it is since we started, for days and nights and time all seemto have grown mixed up together. "

"Yes, we have had rather a muddled and worrying time of it, Marcus, lad. "

"And now we are just as far off as ever. "

"Well, not quite, my lad. "

"I feel weak for want of food, and confused for want of sleep. "

"Not you! You only fancy that because you're down in the dumps. You'llbe all right as soon as ever there's anything wants doing and we havetumbled by accident near to one of those parties of the enemy, who allseem to be moving the same way as we are to surround the army. "

"Yes, Serge, and that's what I am afraid they are doing, and keeping usoutside. It's all desperate and bad. "

"Oh, I don't know. We shall get to them some time, " said Serge. 

"Some time!" cried Marcus, mockingly. "Our poor general with hisfollowers must have been utterly destroyed by this time. "

"Tchah! Not he! You don't know what a Roman general can do. He'llhold out for months, or kill those who are attacking him. Give it upyour fashion!"

"What do you mean by my fashion?" cried Marcus, sharply. 

"Give it up in despair sort of way when there's no need. "

"No need!" cried Marcus, bitterly. "You seem to be blind to the danger. Why, the main army, as you must see perfectly well, has penetrated sofar into the enemy's country that it is completely surrounded by thetribes that have gathered together, and are only now waiting for afavourable opportunity to fall upon it and crush it. "

"Well, the army's no worse off than we are. They've surrounded us--parties of them--only we wouldn't be crushed. It's just the same withthe Roman army; it won't be crushed. I've taught you times enough, boy, what our generals can do--lock their men together, shield to shield, cohort to cohort, all facing outwards and bristling with spear andsword. These barbarians are brave enough and they rush at our menmeaning to crush them and sweep them out of the country; and so theykeep on at it, losing more and more, before they roll back beaten. "

"Yes, Serge, but only to try again. "

"Oh, of course. That's right enough, but it only means to be rolledback again. Now, look here, my boy; you have got your message todeliver. "

"Yes, yes, I know, " cried Marcus, despairingly. 

"And you are a bit disappointed because it's not done. Everything'sbad, you say. It's been all misfortune since we started, and we may aswell give up at once. "

"Well, isn't it all true?" cried Marcus, as he stood unconsciouslycaressing one of the chariot horses as the pair stood ready to makeanother dash at a moment's notice, their driver busying himself thewhile with seeing to and examining the different parts of the harness. 

"True! Hardly a bit of it, " cried Serge. "I ought to give you a gooddrilling and bullying for what you said; but somehow I can't, for wehave had some very hard work, and all through you have been such a braveboy. "

"Oh, nonsense, Serge! You are only saying that to comfort me. You willpraise me so. "

"Oh no I won't, " said the old soldier, gruffly. "I won't give you a bitmore than's good for you, boy. When I say you have done well it meansyou have done well. You won't get any flattery out of me. All thistrouble that we are going through is no more than you must expect. Lookwhat we are doing, and how we stand. "

Serge was sitting down on a stone, busily employed as he talkedpolishing and sharpening his sword as it lay across his knees, and hedid not trouble himself to look up at his young companion, but kept onlecturing him in a bluff, good-humoured way, smiling to himself withsatisfaction all the time. 

"Now here we are, trying to overtake our army, which had some days thestart of us. If I say what you think isn't right, you stop me. Well, our army has invaded the country of these Gallic tribes. The Gauls areno fools. They know Caius Julius has come to conquer them, and theydon't want to be conquered. Their idea is to invade Rome and conquerus. Well, my boy, we have come into their country, and every man whocan fight has been called upon to come and fight against us, so thatlike a big crop in a cultivated land, what has been planted has come upall over. And this crop is fighting men with swords and spears. Nowwe--you and me and the driver, and we ought to put the horses in, bless'em, for they've done wonders--have come after the army, marchingthrough this bristling crop, and you, without taking any account of whata hard job it is to get through, keep on grumbling and saying everythingis bad. "

"And so it is, Serge. "

"It arn't, boy!" cried the old soldier, firmly, and letting his swordrest, brightly polished and sharp as it was, he now raised his head andlooked smilingly in the boy's face. "Haven't you got proof of it thatthings are not as bad as you say?"

"No, " cried Marcus, angrily. "I was entrusted with a message to myfather and Caius Julius, and I have not done my task. "

"Not yet, boy, but you are going to at the first chance. Why, lookhere, my lad, if things were half as bad as you say they are weshouldn't be here. If we have escaped once from being taken or killedwe have got through a dozen times. Look at us. Why, we haven't got ascratch, and here we are, better, ever so much, than when we started. "

"Better?" cried Marcus. 

"Yes, better. We are a bit hungry. "

"I tell you I'm half starved, " cried Marcus. 

"Take your belt up another hole, then, boy. That's a splendidtightener. Hungry! Why, you talk about it as if it was a disease, whenit's a thing you can cure yourself the first time you get hold of a bigcake and a bowl of goat's milk. "

"Oh, how you talk!" cried the boy, holding out his arm and trying tospan his wrist with his fingers. "Look how thin I am getting. "

"Thin!" cried Serge. "Why, you look prime. You have got rid of a lotof that nasty fat that was filling out your skin through doing nothingbut sit on a stool all day making scratches with a stylus on a plate ofwax. What does a soldier want with fat? Your armour's quite heavyenough to carry, without your being loaded up with a lot of fat. That'sright enough for women and girls; makes 'em look smooth and nice andpretty, and fills up all the holes and corners; but a soldier wants boneand muscle--good, hard, tough muscle and sinew, and that's what you havegot now. Look at me. "

"Yes, I have looked at you time after time, Serge, and you lookhollow-cheeked and haggard and worn. "

"Why, I feel prime, my boy, ready for anything; ten years younger thanwhen we started. Why, I have got into regular fighting condition again. Did you see how I jumped into the car yesterday when the ponies startedwithout me?"

"Yes, I saw you run ever so far and jump, " cried Marcus. 

"And you begin talking to me about being haggard and worn! Isn't asword all the sharper for being a bit worn?"

"Yes, of course. "

"So's a soldier. Look here, boy; we are getting seasoned, and I'm proudto say that I am what a man's officer would call a veteran, and that'sthe finest title there is in an army. Then, too, look at our lad here. See what a splendid driver he's turned out, and how he can send thatchariot in and out among the rocks so close as almost to shave them, andright in between pairs of them where you or I would think there wasn'troom to pass. And then there's the ponies! They are a bit thin, certainly, but they are as fine as bronze, and can gallop farther andbetter than ever. Now then! Speak out honest! Did you ever before seesuch a splendid pair?"

"No, Serge, never. "

"And yet you say that everything's wrong and hopeless and bad. Why, boy, if I didn't know it was all through your being young and anxiousand eager to do your duty, I should be ashamed of you. "

"But you are not, Serge?" cried the boy, excitedly. 

"'Shamed of you? No, boy. I feel proud. "

"There, Serge, " cried Marcus, leaving the pony, to go and lay his handupon the old soldier's shoulder, "I've done, and I will try and nevercomplain any more. I do see now what a lot we have to be thankful for. Now then; what's the next thing we ought to do?"

"Same as usual, my lad, " said Serge, rising and sheathing his sword, which went back into its scabbard with a quick glide till the hilt wasnearly reached, when it required a firm thrust to get it close into itsplace. "Well, to begin with, forage first. I often think it's a pity aman wasn't made like a horse. Look at those two ponies! How theircoats shine in the sunshine! They began eating their breakfast beforeit was light, for I was watching and wakeful, and I got thinking likethis as I heard them busy at it, crop and blow, crop and blow, and afterthey had eaten all they wanted they had a drink of water, and there theyare fit for the day, while we three have got to find out some place oranother where we can buy, or frighten them into giving us some bread andmilk. We always have been lucky enough so far, and I don't see why weshouldn't be again to-day. "

"But which way shall we go, Serge? It's of no use to try to follow upthe army as we did yesterday, and then have to turn back because theenemy are between us and it. "

"No, boy; I think the best thing we can do is to leave that till we havedone foraging, for we must have something to eat. Then we'll try if wecan't creep round these tribes, or get in between them somehow. Perhapswe may have a bit of luck to give us a little help. Anyhow, we are notgoing to despair. "

"No, Serge, " cried Marcus, firmly; "anything but that. "

"Hah!" cried Serge. "That's spoken like Cracis' son. "

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. 

ON THE BRINK. 

Evening was coming on on the following day, when, growing tired but inhigher spirits, Marcus and Serge were cautiously following the traceswell marked along the side of a forest which gave unmistakable evidenceof the passing of a large body of men. 

There had been rain some hours before, which had left the earth softenedand refreshed, ready, too, for yielding to the pressure of horses' hoofsand the clearly-indicated lines formed by chariot wheels. These formeda splendid guide for the adventurers, who added their own traces as theypressed eagerly on. 

"They are our people, Marcus, boy, and they are not far ahead. "

"Think so, Serge?"

"Sure of it, boy. It has rained since morning, and whoever passed alonghere has made these marks since the rain. "

"And it's certainly not a retreat, Serge, for there's no sign offighting. "

"Not a bit, my boy. It's our army on the march, and all those signsshow that our men were in full fettle, ready for anything, and arepushing forward into the middle of the enemy's country. See yonmountains?"

"Mountains!" said Marcus. "You might call them hills. "

"Well, hills, then; and it strikes me that we shall find these trackslead straight to one of those green nicely-rounded tops with a pleasantslope all round. Now, there's that one there, " continued Serge, pointing to a hill standing by itself; "that's just the sort of place myold officer would have picked out for his next halting camp, lead hismen right to the top, mark out their places, and have them all at workbefore sundown, busy as bees digging out a ditch and throwing up a wallof earth in front for our men to fight behind, in case they wereattacked. "

Serge had hardly ceased speaking as he walked with Marcus on one side oftheir horses, the driver on the other, to rest the brave little animalsas much as possible, when, passing round a clump of trees, following thebend of the track made by the marching army, they came more fully inview of the hills whose tops only they had seen before. 

Nearest of all was the one to which Serge had drawn attention, and asthis opened out more and more in the evening sunshine Marcus uttered anejaculation and caught at his companion's arm. 

"Ah!" cried Serge, starting, and he raised his hand to sign to theirdriver to stop, before catching at one of the ponies' reins. "What isit? Enemy?"

"I don't know, " cried Marcus, excitedly. "Look!"

The old soldier shaded his eyes, and uttered a cry of joy. 

"Enemy? No?" he cried. "It's just as I said. Look, boy! Our people!Our army! Far off as it is, I know them by the standards, and the waythey have gone to work. Look at them! Why they look no bigger thanbees from here, and it is as I said. They are forming camp as if theymeant to stop for days. "

"Oh, don't, Serge, " cried the boy, huskily. "Don't talk like this ifyou are not sure. It seems too good to believe, after all that we havegone through. "

"Not it, boy!" cried Serge, excitedly. "Not a bit too good. Look atall the bad we have had. Everything has another side, and there it isfor us. "

"Are you sure?"

"As that I am here, boy. That's the Roman army, or part of it, for Ican't be certain that Julius and Cracis are there. But if it's only apart it will do for us, for the general who commands can receive ourmessage and go to yon poor fellows' help. Now, then, forward at once, for though that camp looks so near we have miles to travel before we canmarch up and be stopped by their sentries ready to challenge us in thegood old Latin tongue. Why, boy, you said yesterday that all was badand everything had failed. What do you say now?"

"Forward!" cried Marcus, "and at once!"

The ponies had done little work that day, for the advance had been madecautiously on account of the many bands of the enemy's warriors whichswarmed throughout the country, and the empty chariot had formed theload; but now without further conversation Marcus sprang in. 

"If we walk, Serge, " he said, "we shall not get there till after dark. "

"And then have a lot of trouble about going up to the camp, " saidSerge--"perhaps get a spear in one's ribs; but I wouldn't hurry. Besides, we don't know whether the country's clear between us and them. "

It was a glorious evening, and for the first time the land with itsforest and verdant hills looked beautiful to Marcus by comparison withthe rugged barren mountains they had traversed, and whose peaks loweredup stern and forbidding in the distance, as they glanced back from timeto time. 

A sharp look-out was kept, as whenever the trees were not too close theadventurers made cautious observations of the surrounding country, butnothing suggestive of the enemy was seen, the broad track made by theadvancing Roman army marked their way, descending gradually from theedge of the forest into one of the valleys beyond which extended therange of verdant hills. Upon the special one that they had marked downthey had a clear view of the busy soldiery passing to and fro andlooking diminutive in the extreme, before the track led farther into thewoody valley and the hills were completely shut out. 

The distance proved greater than they had expected, but there was theirguide wandering here and there up ascents or down into the depths of thevalley along which meandered a lovely little river whose moistmeadow-like sides were sadly trampled and cut up. Still there was nosign of danger, and the river bank was followed for some distance. 

"But those hills are on the other side, Serge, " said Marcus after atime. 

"Yes, and before long we shall come upon a shallow place that has beenforded. They'll have picked out a spot where the chariots could easilypass, and what would do for them will do nicely for us, boy. So keepon, and hold your eyes open, for where the Roman soldiers are, theenemy's men will be pretty near at hand. "

Soon after, the track followed a bend of the river, going nearer andnearer, and then all at once struck straight for the bright flowingwater, ending at the trampled down bank, and reappearing plainly enoughon the farther side. 

"Not above a foot deep, " grunted Serge; and he proved to be right, thewater never once coming up to the chariot's axle trees, while theponies' hoofs just splashed in the barely covered gravel as they passedout on to the springy grass on the farther side, where the track wasmore plain than ever. 

"Shall we get there before dark, Serge?" said Marcus, after a time. 

"Hope so, boy, or we shall find it a bit hard. It's easy enough now, but when the sun's down it will be rather hard to follow the marks withall these trees overhead. "

"But the path must soon begin to ascend the hill, " said Marcus. 

"I expect they'll have found it easier to walk round it and slope upfrom the other side. I dare say they've got a good deal of baggage--impedimenta, as we call it--else I should have thought that they mighthave struck up the valley slope at once. It will be dark before long;sooner than I expected. "

"But they had the broad daylight, and of course taking a long sweep itwould be much easier for the chariots. "

"Yes, " grunted Serge, "I don't like having it dark. We mustn't strikeup at once, must we? It would be nearest. "

"No, " said Marcus, decisively; "we might not strike the track again, andperhaps find that we had chosen the wrong hill, and have to come back. "

"Yes, that's right, " said the old soldier. "Slow but sure;" and theponies went steadily on, their hoofs rustling through the thick, moistgrass where it was not trampled down. 

"What's the matter, Lupe? Thirsty?" asked Marcus, as the dog raisedhimself up, looked over the front of the chariot, and then turned togaze wistfully in his master's eyes. "Want water, old fellow?"

The dog gave the speaker an intelligent look and then sprang out of thechariot, and after trotting alongside for a time, bounded silentlyforward and disappeared. 

They saw no more of him for the next quarter of an hour, and then cameupon him sitting waiting at a spot where the beaten track swept awayfrom the river. 

"At last!" said Marcus, eagerly, as the ponies' heads were turned; andbefore they had gone many hundred yards they had the satisfaction ofseeing the trees open out and the sky look lighter. 

Lupe sprang on in front and disappeared, but at the end of a few minutesthey came upon him again, standing gazing straight before him, motionless, while as the ponies reached him, they too stopped short. 

"What does that mean?" whispered the old soldier. "Has he seen anythingto scare him?"

Serge had hardly spoken when from somewhere in front there came thedistant whinnying of a horse. 

"From the army!" cried Marcus, excitedly. But Serge clapped his handupon the boy's lips. 

"Our army is not there, " he said, in a hoarse whisper, and the drivergave a quick snatch at the reins, just as one of the ponies stretchedout its neck to answer the challenge. 

"Good!" said Serge, sharply. "Now then, back. "

"Turn back, " said Marcus, "now we are so near?"

"Yes, boy, and try to get round to the camp another way. "

"You think the enemy are near?" whispered Marcus. 

"And enough to make me, boy, seeing how our people have been surroundedand followed. I thought we were getting on too fast. "

"But look here, " said Marcus, excitedly, "I don't like to turn backwithout making sure. Let me go on alone and see if you are right. "

"Well, " said Serge, slowly, "it would be best, for then--No, I can't letyou do that, boy. We'll stay here for a while till it grows darker, andthen, go on together, creeping amongst the bushes to see what we canmake out, and then come back to the chariot. "

"Why not make a brave dash forward?" said Marcus. 

Serge shook his head. 

"It would be too rash, " he said. "We'll take the horses into yon clumpof trees, where they can stand well hidden and it will be easy to findwhen we come back. "

"Serge, we shall never find it again in the darkness. Better keep withit, " whispered Marcus, excitedly. 

"Well, maybe you are right, boy. Lead on, then, my man, as silently asyou can. This way. "

Serge stepped in front, and with the darkness closing in fast the ponieswere led forward some twenty yards and then out of the clear open spacein amongst the dark patch of young growth, and the chariot was hardlyhidden from the sight of anyone who might be passing along the trackthey were following, before Lupe uttered a low warning growl. 

Marcus bent over the dog and seized him by the muzzle to keep his jawsclosed, and the dog crouched down, while directly after there came theheavy tramp of advancing men, following their path exactly, and verydimly-seen from where the adventurers lay _perdu_ a body of men, who, from the time they took in passing, must have numbered two or threethousand, came by, the dull sound of their footsteps dying out suddenlywhen they were some little distance away. 

"Gone?" whispered Marcus, as soon as he thought it safe to speak. 

"No, boy, " was whispered back directly. "They've halted a little wayfarther on. "

"What does it mean?" said Marcus. 

"I believe, " replied Serge, with his lips close to his young companion'sear, "that there is quite an army of the enemy in front, and that thesewe heard are going to join them. "

"Then we ought to go on and give our people warning that they are goingto be attacked. "

"No need, boy, " whispered Serge; "they won't catch our men lying aboutwith their eyes shut. Careful watch has been set by now, and scoutswill be well advanced. Cracis and Julius will not be caught asleep inthe enemy's country. Now, then, as soon as we can feel sure that nomore are coming we will try and get up to the camp. "

"But you will not be able to find it in the darkness. "

"I think I shall, boy, " said the old fellow, confidently. 

"Pst!" whispered the driver, and Lupe uttered another growl, and thenhad to suffer the indignity of being muzzled with Marcus' hand, till thefresh tramping sound had approached them and then passed away. 

"Now, then, " said Marcus, "we must risk it now. "

"I'm ready, " said Serge. "But what are you going to do?"

"Go back nearly to the river, and then strike for the hill which must beto our right. It will be too dark to see, but we ought to be near itbefore long, and we are pretty sure to be challenged. "

"I can't propose anything better, " said Serge. "So on at once. "

The ponies were led out, and in the gloom Lupe was just seen as hestepped out in front of the chariot and started off as if to lead theway, while directly after the low, dull trampling of the ponies and thesoft, crushing sound of the chariot wheels rose in the moist eveningair, the ponies following the dog and the latter acting as if heperfectly well knew where his master meant to go. For some little timeafter the rippling of the river had reached their ears the dog struckoff to the right up a very gradual slope apparently quite free fromtrees, keeping on for nearly an hour, before he stopped short, utteringa low, deep growl, while as it rose in the silence the driver checkedthe ponies, just as a sharp, low whispering of voices came from theirfront, and then there was silence again, while Marcus and Serge stoodtogether in the chariot, hand clasped in hand. 

CHAPTER THIRTY. 

WHAT SERGE THOUGHT. 

The silence seemed to be awful to the listeners, who were prepared togive the word for the ponies to dash away as soon as the approach theyexpected commenced. 

"Our people?" whispered Marcus at last, with his lips close to Serge'sear. 

"No, " was whispered back, and the next moment there was the heavytrampling of feet, but not towards them; and they had proof directlythat they were no friends by the strange yell of defiance which suddenlyrang out in response to a challenge given in the unmistakable Romantongue. 

"Oh!" whispered Marcus, excitedly. "Our people, and so near! We mustgo forward now. "

"No, not yet, boy. Hark! Yonder are our people speaking out, and thefight is beginning. "

"A night attack, " whispered Marcus, hoarsely, and with his heart beatingheavily. 

"Yes, boy, and as far as I can make out the hill and camp have beensurrounded. Now, then, the darkness may prove to be our friend. Whatdo you say? Shall we try to join our people, or fall back till morning, when we can see what is best for us to do?"

"Try and join the army, " said Marcus, firmly. "If the hill issurrounded we shall be getting into fresh danger by attempting to fallback. "

"Yes, " said Serge, in a low, deep voice, and no further word wasuttered. Lupe gave vent to an impatient growl, and the ponies from timeto time stamped uneasily as if eager to advance, while away to right andleft rose, all the more horrible for the darkness, the clash of arms androar of voices, mingled with the loud braying of trumpets, followed bythe responsive shouts of the soldiery. There were moments when the tideof battle seemed to flow in the direction of the chariot, but only to bebeaten back and sway to and fro. 

Then, Marcus never afterwards knew how it happened--all he could recallwas a fragment or two of their situation--Serge had just almost shoutedin his ear, having to raise his voice to make himself heard, that theymust at all costs make a dash to get away, and he himself had laid hishand on their driver's shoulder to bid him drive on, when he found thathe was too late. For all at once he discovered that the battle wasraging close at hand, right in front of the horses' heads, and directlyafter as they were swung round in the opposite direction for theoccupants of the chariot to seek safety, there was a rush of armed men. These came into contact with another body, and so it was that whicheverway they turned there was the wild turmoil and fury of the fight goingon, while as far as Marcus could make out, one minute the Roman soldierswere driving the barbarians back and carrying all before them, but onlyto be overwhelmed in turn by some tremendous wave of the enemy in theshape of reinforcements, which raged and swirled round the moredisciplined men, carrying them back by sheer weight of numbers in thedirection from which they had come. 

Both Marcus and Serge seemed to bear a charmed life. They made noattempt to use their weapons, and their position in the car hadsomething to do with their escape from injury as they held on to thefront, to be borne here and there by their frantic horses, whilenaturally enough Roman and Gaul, where they were crowded together incontention, yielded and made way for the plunging and rearing steeds, whose hoofs seemed to them for the time being more dangerous than theweapons of a foe. 

How long all this lasted Marcus never knew. 

It was enough for his brain to take in the wild horrors of the fiercefight and its many changes till all at once in the dim light shed by thestars the chariot horses had borne him and Serge partly out of thefierce crowds of fighting men. 

Encounters were taking place all around in single combat, and chargesand counter charges made by little parties who were separated from themain body crowded together in the central portions of the battlefield;and snatching at the opportunity, Serge, spear in hand, leaned over toMarcus and, pointing forward to an opening in front, shouted to him tobid their driver make for that gap in the human wall. 

Marcus planted his spear shaft sharply down upon the floor of thechariot to steady himself, as he leaned down to the driver to utter hiscommands, and the next minute the fiery little steeds were tearing awayat full gallop along the open space, as if in their wild excitement theywere eager to escape from the savage scenes and bloodshed going onaround. 

But before a hundred yards had been traversed, the sea of human beingsclosed in again, completely filling up the opening, and seeming about toentirely stop the fugitives' course. 

Serge and the driver, both now as excited as the horses, burst forthinto a wild cry of command, and this and the sight of the dimly-seenapproaching steeds thundering along had their effect. The crowd openedout again just as the driver's efforts were rewarded and he was able tocheck the furious gallop of his steeds and save them from plunging intothe mass of friend and foe alike. 

The gallop became a trot, the trot a gentle amble, as the chariot nowrolled slowly on to where about a score altogether of Romans and Gauls, each party headed by an officer, were just in the act of meeting, prettyevenly balanced, in deadly combat. 

As with wild shouts they rushed together with sword and spear clashingloudly against helmet, shield, or the protecting body armour they wore, the driver of Marcus' chariot dragged upon his left rein to try andswing round to avoid the contending foes. But in the darkness he didnot grasp that which was on his left, and Marcus became aware by asudden jerk that their further progress was at an end, the chariot beingwedged in between a couple of trees, while the horses were plungingwildly to escape from a tangle of bush and branch, and the driver hadleaped out to seize them by their heads. 

"Look, look!" shouted Serge just then. 

Marcus, who had had to cling to the sides of the chariot to save himselffrom being thrown out, turned sharply to learn the meaning of his oldcomrade's cry, and he was just in time to see him throw himself over thechariot's side, evidently to hurry to the help of the Roman officer andhis few men, who, completely outnumbered, were being beaten down by twoor three times their number of Gauls. 

Serge said no more in words; his acts spoke for themselves, and graspingthat he meant at all costs to go to the help of the Roman officer, Marcus stood for a moment spear in hand and hurled it with all his mightat four of the barbarians who were attacking the Roman leader, who wascut off from his companions and faring badly, in spite of a valorousdefence, at his enemies' hands. 

It was pretty nearly momentary, but Marcus took all in at a glance. Hesaw that their coming and the dash of the chariot had had their effectupon a portion of the Gauls, who turned and fled, while some of theirfellows were beating back the few Roman soldiers left unhurt. 

There were enough still, though, of the Gauls to rush at spear-armedSerge with a yell of triumph, and Marcus, as he saw the sturdy oldsoldier making furious play with his spear, snatched out his sword torush to his help; but his course was diverted by that which he saw justbeyond, dimly enough, but with sufficient vividness to go straight tohis heart. 

It was the Roman officer staggering back with his helmet falling fromhis head from a blow he had just received from one Gaul, while, takingadvantage of his momentary helplessness, a second rushed at him with hisspear, bore him down backwards, and with a yell of triumph planted onefoot upon his chest and drove his spear with all his force right at histhroat. 

There was a curious crashing sound as the spear point was turned asideby the finely-tempered gorget the Roman wore, and with a snarl the Gaulraised his weapon again for a second blow. 

He made the thrust, but it was caught midway by the sword of Marcus, whoended his rush to the Roman's help with a bound; his keen sword met thedescending spear shaft, cutting it right through as if it were a twig, while he who wielded the sword came with all his weight full upon theGaul's chest and sent him rolling over and over upon the ground. 

Marcus, too, came heavily to earth, but it was upon hands and knees, and, still retaining his sword, he scrambled to his feet again at thesame time as the Gaul, who raised his headless spear on high to bring itdown upon the head of his assailant. 

But at that moment Marcus was reinforced by the officer whose life hehad saved, and who, regaining his feet, cut down the Gaul and turned tomeet his next enemy; for about a dozen men came at him with a rush, butonly to be borne back in turn by a rallying party of the Romans, who, coming at their officer's help, sprang at the Gauls, to be swept on inturn by a tremendous rush in which Marcus was trampled down, to lie halfinsensible for a few minutes before he struggled up, looked round, andthan staggered towards the trees in which the chariot was entangled, while the horses were still being held by the driver. 

Here Marcus supported himself, panting and breathing hard, by the edgeof the chariot. He was giddy, and the dim battlefield seemed to beheaving and slowly gliding round before his eyes. There was a curiousfeeling of sickness troubling him and an intense longing for a draughtof water, while his thoughts were all, so to speak, broken and confusedand mingled together with a selfish feeling that he must be very badlyhurt. 

By degrees, though, the various objects began to settle down, and theroar of battle and clash of arms gave place slowly to a dull, singingnoise in his ears. Then, as if by a sudden jump, his power of thinkinglucidly came back, and he looked round for the officer he had tried tohelp. 

But he was not there. Some twenty or thirty dead and wounded men werescattered about as they had fallen, some few of whom wore the armour ofRoman soldiers, but for the most part they were Gauls, and Marcus lookedin vain for the object of his search. 

Then he turned giddy again, for a mental cloud seemed to close him in, and he snatched at his helmet and dragged it off, when the cool nightwind that played upon his heated brow brought with it a sense of relief, and he thought clearly again, not of self but of Serge, and with a cryof horror he ran from where he had stood, to bend over each of theprostrate Roman soldiers in turn, uttering a sigh of relief as he raisedhimself up, replaced his helmet, and looked round, fully conscious nowthat the tide of war had swept right away to a distance. The fightingwas still going on, and the cries and the clashing of weapons werestrangely commingled, but faintly heard. One side had evidently won thebattle and was driving its enemies before it. But were was Serge?

Marcus turned to where the driver was still soothing the horses, but hecould give him no information. He had not seen Serge since he leaptfrom the chariot and was lost directly in the crowd of fighting men. Marcus stepped back to the spot where his own encounter had taken place, and looked round again for a few moments, but though he could seeseveral prostrate bodies Serge's was not one, and going on and on in thedim starlight he was to some extent able to follow the course of thefighting men by those they had left behind, till he grew confused as tohis position and began to retrace his steps. 

It was not easy, for he had nothing to guide him, and some considerablespace of time had elapsed before, utterly worn out and disheartened, hemade out a clump of trees, towards which he now directed his steps inthe hope that it might be the one in which the chariot had beenentangled. 

To his great delight, as he approached, he heard the voice of the drivertalking to the horses, and, hurrying on, he found that he wasapproaching the chariot from the opposite side to that he had left. Thenext minute he was tugging his sword from its sheath, for an armed mansuddenly rose up from just in front, and as the boy's sword fell to hisside, caught him in his arms. 

"And I thought you were dead--I thought you were dead!" came in afamiliar, deep, gruff voice, broken by sobs. "Oh, Marcus, my boy, wherehave you been?"

"Looking for you, Serge. "

"You have? Well, that's what I have been doing for you. "

"But where were you?" cried Marcus. 

"I d'know, boy, only that I have been fighting. I was hard at it whenthere was a rush, and I was carried along with all the rest, getting ahit now and then at one of the enemy, but not often, for they don'tfight fair. They all crowd at you together, and I got the worst of itbadly. "

"Then you are wounded?" cried Marcus. "No, boy; but I lost my spear. "

"Lost your spear?" cried Marcus, staring. "Yes, boy; this 'ere's only asavage one. "

"But you are not hurt?" cried Marcus again. 

"Not hurt?" cried Serge. "Why, boy, I just am. Battered and banged andhit all over. If it hadn't been for the goodness of my armour therewouldn't have been no Serge--nothing left but a few bits. But you, myboy?"

"Oh, I'm very sore and bruised and sprained, but nothing worse. Butthat officer, Serge, that we went to help?"

"Ah!" cried Serge. "That officer we went to help! What about him? Youdidn't let him be killed, boy?"

"No; I remember he got up and fought again. "

"That's right, boy; but where is he now?"

"I don't know, " cried Marcus. "I was trampled down and lost my senses. Don't you know what became of him?"

"No, " said Serge, "and I don't care, boy now that I have found you. Here, don't let's stand talking, but help to get out that chariot. Iwant to get up to the Roman camp. "

"Can we? Did our people win?"

"Win? Why, of course, my lad! Romans never fail. "

"Quick, then!" cried Marcus. "The chariot, and then up to the camp. There's the message; and let's hope my father's there. "

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. 

THE GENERAL'S TENT. 

The driver's face lit up as he saw Marcus and Serge come to his help, for the battle was as nothing to him compared to the state of thechariot and horses; and he eagerly set to work over the extraction ofthe vehicle, which, though splintered and battered, was not much theworse for the accident, and was soon dragged out from where it had beenwedged close to the spot where the horses, now quit calmed, had settleddown to browse upon the grass, which grew in abundance outside the clumpof trees. 

It was the harness which had fared the worst, but the driver and Sergewere both pretty handy, and by the time the day dawned tying and lacinghad done their work, so that, excepting appearance, the ropes, strapsand thongs were as good as ever, and, tired and anxious, Marcus hurriedhis companions into the chariot to start for the camp. 

Guessing at the direction where the slope led, they had just startedwhen they were encountered by a minor officer at the head of a party ofmen, who looked hard at them and accosted them with:

"Have you seen anything of an overturned chariot in a clump of trees?"

"Yes, " said Marcus, smiling. 

"Which way?" cried the officer, who looked surprised at Marcus' way ofreceiving the question. 

"Straight down that slope, " said Marcus. "You can almost see the treesfrom here. "

The officer nodded his thanks and was turning away, but Marcus stoppedhim by saying:

"The chariot is not there now. "

"Not there?"

"No; this is it. "

"Ah!" cried the officer, eagerly. "Then you are the youth and this isthe man I want. "

"What for?" asked Marcus, flushing slightly. 

"Oh, you'll know soon enough. My chief has sent me to find you. It isfor something that took place in the fight last night. "

"Something that took place in the fight last night?" faltered Marcus, wearily. "But tell me, did the Romans win the battle?"

"Oh, yes, of course; but don't stop to talk. I must make haste back. You haven't been murdering and plundering the people, have you?"

"No, of course not, " cried Marcus, sharply. 

"So much the better for you, " said the officer, shortly. "Come along. "

He gave orders to some of his men to form up behind the chariot, andwith the rest he placed himself in front, and gave the order to march, leading off at once to the left of the route in which the chariot hadbeen moving when it was stopped. 

"Why, anyone would think that we were prisoners, " said Marcus, who feltannoyed, but, satisfied that they were being taken to the camp, hethought of his message and was content. He, however, reached over thefront of the chariot and called to the young officer, asking who was incommand of the army. 

The young man looked at him superciliously. 

"What is it to you?" he said, shortly. "Ask the general himself whenyou come before him, and then perhaps you will be able to explain whyyou who are Romans have come to be fighting on the side of the Gaul. "

"What!" said Marcus. "Do you know that--"

"Never mind what I know, my lad, " said the officer, shortly, "and don'tspeak to me again in that free off-hand tone. Please to understand thatI am an officer and you a prisoner. Forward, and mind this: any attemptto escape will be followed by a shower of spears. "

"Thanks, " said Marcus, sarcastically; and he turned to Serge. 

"I shall not tell him why we have come, " he said, with his face of adeeper red than before. 

"That's right, boy, " growled Serge. "We don't want him to be civil; allwe want is for him to take us to the general. You can tell him why wehave come. "

They were ascending a slope that grew more and more steep, and themorning would have seemed beautiful to Marcus, whose heart beat high atthe prospect of being able to deliver his message to the general incommand, whoever it might be; but the beauty of the scene and theapproaching sunrise were marred by the traces left by the battle, whichthey were constantly passing: the dead here, wounded men waiting forhelp there; the trampled and stained earth everywhere. It was apleasant relief when the top of the hill they were ascending had beenreached, though it showed no trace of any camp till the descending slopecame into view, and then the adventurers found that they had to cross avalley, beyond which, with the trench and banks showing in rich browntints gilded by the rays of the rising sun, was the Roman camp, with itsfew tents and moving columns of men passing up the flanks of the steephill upon which it stood, evidently returning in regular order from thepursuit of the scattered foes who had resisted the attack upon theinvader during the past night. 

In his eagerness Marcus gave an order to the driver for the chariot toadvance down the slope and cross the valley at a trot; but the officerturned upon him angrily, and ordered two of his spear-armed men to takethe ponies by the rein, and in this fashion Marcus and his companionwere led right to the centre of the camp before one of the tents, up towhose entrance the officer marched, spoke to another who was on guard, and then entered. 

"Got all you want to say ready?" whispered Serge. 

"Yes, " whispered back Marcus. "Oh, if he would only be quick! This isall wasting time. "

The young officer was quick enough, for he returned directly, and hismanner seemed changed as he stepped up to the chariot. 

"Follow me, sir, " he said. "The generals will see you directly. "

Marcus' heart beat quicker than ever now, as he sprang from the chariot, wincing slightly from his stiffness, while Serge limped and screwed uphis face as he strove in vain to hold himself erect. 

It was bright with the early sunshine outside the tent, where Marcus nowfound himself face to face with a stern-looking man in the dress of ageneral, who sat with his hand resting upon his helmet. 

But he was not alone, for another officer was lying upon a rough couch, evidently, from his bandaged head, wounded; but he was fully dressed, and his helmet and sword were upon the rolled-up cloak at the side ofhis averted head. 

"You are welcome, " began the sitting general, warmly. "I have sent foryou to give you the thanks of my injured friend, whose life--Why, whatis this! My severe young friend Marcus here!"

"What!" came from the couch, and its occupant sprang into a sittingposition. 

"Father!" cried Marcus, and Serge, who had doffed his helmet, now in hisastonishment let it fall upon the skins which covered the ground with aheavy thud. 

As Marcus spoke he ran to his father's side and sank down upon one kneeto gaze anxiously in his face. 

"Are you much hurt?" he said, hoarsely. 

"No, no, not much, my boy, " said Cracis; "but in the excitement I didnot know you, Marcus. Oh, it seems impossible that you could have beenmy preserver!"

"It was more Serge than I, father, " cried Marcus, quickly. 

"Nay, nay, nay!" growled the old soldier, in his hoarsest tones. "Speakthe truth, boy. "

"That is the truth, " cried Marcus, quickly. 

"I helped, of course, but it was him, master, who made that cut at theGaul's spear and knocked him over. But we neither of us knew that itwas you. "

"But you, Marcus, my boy, " said Cracis, as he gazed wonderingly in hisson's face, while Caius Julius watched them both in turn--"you knew me, of course?"

"No, father, " replied Marcus, whose face was scarlet now withexcitement. "I only saw that it was a Roman officer. "

"And you dashed at once to his help, " said Caius Julius, smiling. "Well, it was a brave act then, while now I scarcely know what to callit. Why, Marcus, you must feel very proud of what you have done. "

"Stop!" cried the boy, quickly, eager to end the words of praise andcompliment. 

"Yes, stop, " said Cracis, sternly. "You here, Marcus, in a soldier'sarmour, and Serge as well! Is this the way my commands are obeyed? Whyare you here?"

"To bring the message of the general commanding the rear-guard, father. He is shut in on the snowy pass that crosses the mountain, and heldthere by many times his number of the enemy; and he sent me and Serge tothe army here to ask for help. "

"He sent you, boy?" cried Cracis, quickly. 

"Yes, father, " replied Marcus, "and I was to say that at all cost hewould hold out till help was sent. "

"Help shall be sent at once, " said Cracis, firmly; "or better still, Julius, " he continued, "our work being so far completed, withyesterday's victory, we will march to his help ourselves. "

Caius Julius bent his head without saying a word, and then sat back inhis seat, attentively watching father and son. 

"But your message did not answer my question, boy, " said Cracis, coldly. "Marcus, my son, how came it that you were with the little army that atmy orders was to follow in our wake, crushing down the Gauls who wouldbe sure to gather after we had passed? Speak out, sire: how came youthere?"

"I could not bear it, father: something seemed to tell me that you wouldbe in danger, and I followed you to Rome, and then on here. "

"Then you disobeyed my commands, boy, " said Cracis, sternly; and Marcussank upon his other knee, clasped his hands, and held them out beforehim. Closing his eyes then he threw back his head and was silent whileone might have slowly counted ten. Then in a low, distinct tone, fullof sorrow and despair, he said slowly:

"Yes, father; I disobeyed your command. "

"And you, Serge, my old and trusted servant, old soldier though youwere, " continued Cracis, in tones that sounded icy, "as soon as my backwas turned you plotted with my son to follow me and forsake your post. "

"Nay, master, " cried Serge, quickly; "there was no plotting. I desertedfirst. "

"Hah!" ejaculated Caius Julius again, and his clearly-cut face looked asif it were formed of marble. 

"Worse and worse, " cried Cracis, angrily. "Then you set the examplewhich my weak son followed?"

"No, father, " cried Marcus, quickly; "I did not know that Serge hadgone. "

"Ah!" said Cracis, quickly. "What excuse have you to make, sir, fordeserting your post?"

"I didn't, master, " cried the old soldier, stoutly. "I didn't desert mypost. My post was where I was last night, at my master's side. It wasmy post that deserted me. "

"What!" cried Cracis, angrily. "Insolent!"

"Nay, master, " cried the old soldier; "I'm as humble as young Marcusthere, and I'd kneel down just the same as he's a-doing now, but themGauls knocked me about so in the fight that my legs won't bend. Lookhere, master; I couldn't help it. I was just like the boy there; I feltsomehow that you'd want your old follower's help, and I was obliged tocome and join you. You see, we came together, and reached you just intime. "

"You disobeyed my commands, Serge, " said Cracis, speaking as if deaf tohis old follower's appealing words. "You too, my son; but the words ofboth tell of the repentance in your breasts. Prove, then, by your nextacts that you are willing to make amends. Silence! Do not speak, butact. The horrors and bloodshed of this campaign are not for my son andservant. You, Serge, do your duty as guardian--you, Marcus, yours, inobedience at once. Back home at once, and I will forgive. "

"And leave you now, father, wounded, amidst all these perils?" criedMarcus, wildly. "I cannot! I would sooner die!"

Cracis started angrily to his feet and tore the bandage from his head, as at that moment two officers advanced as if to receive commands. 

"You hear me, Marcus?" he cried, sternly. "You hear me, Serge?"

"Yes, master, " said the old soldier, slowly, and making an effort withhis bruised and stiffened limb, he slowly passed his hand across to hisleft side and drew his short, heavy sword, passed the hilt into his leftso that he could clasp the blade with his right, and in that way held itout to Cracis as he went on speaking: "I disobeyed you once, master, andthat's enough for a Roman soldier. Take hold. I've kept it as sharp asit was in the old days when I followed you to victory, ready to die foryou, master, as I am this day, for I can't live to disobey you again. Take it, I say, master, and let me die at once; better that you shouldcut me down than that I should myself fall upon my sword, for that hasalways seemed to me a coward's death. "

"Stop, Serge!" cried Marcus, passionately, and he laid his hand upon hisold comrade's blade. "I am a Roman, if only a boy, and I have the rightto appeal. "

Turning to Caius Julius, he cried:

"You refused me once, sir, when I appealed to you, saying that I was buta weak unseasoned boy--not in those words, but that is what you meant. "

Caius Julius gravely bent his head, and fixed his keen, glittering eyesupon the speaker, who went on:

"Since then I have tried hard to prove myself worthy to bear the arms Iwas taught by an old soldier to use. "

The general bowed his head slowly once again. 

"Then help me, sir. It is from no desire to disobey, but I feel that Icannot leave my father now. Forgive me, father. I cannot obey you. Forgive me, too, for this appeal. "

"Yes, " said Caius Julius, rising from his seat and taking a step or twoforward. "You both disobeyed, and came here bearers of an importantdespatch which means more than you, boy, can imagine, in time to save afather's and a master's life. Serge, old comrade, " he continued, layinghis hand upon the unsheathed sword, "keep your blade for our enemies. If it prove necessary I will kneel for you to my oldest friend and askhis forgiveness for you and my brave young soldier here. Boy, " hecontinued, "you have confessed your fault as your father's son, butsince he left you, a simple scholar, you have become a soldier andbravely done your duty in your country's cause. Cracis, my brothergeneral, I grant your son's appeal. Endorse it, man, for a fault sofrankly acknowledged is half atoned. "

"I must have obedience, " said Cracis, coldly, "not defiance, at a timelike this. "

"I feel with you, old friend, " said Caius Julius, slowly, "but yourwounds have fevered you, and it has not been cool, calculating Craciswho has spoken, but the angry, offended general. Brother, you desirethat your old servant and your son should return home at once?"

"Yes, " said Cracis, speaking faintly now. 

"How?" said Caius Julius, quickly. "Alone, to fight their way throughthe thousands of half conquered Gauls who will bar their way to the passwhere the great captain is waiting for help?"

Cracis looked wildly at his brother in arms, and then slowly turned hiseyes upon his son--eyes that had flashed but a short time before, butwhich now softened into a look of loving pride, as he slowly sank backinsensible upon his rough pillow, Marcus darting to his side. 

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. 

"MY OWN BRAVE BOY!"

The speech Cracis made when he recovered from the fainting fit broughton by emotion when he was weak and prostrate from his wounds, and foundMarcus by his side bathing his face, was very short, setting the boy'sheart at rest and telling him that the past was entirely forgiven; andthe stern Roman judge merged once more in the loving father. For thespeech was this:

"My own brave boy!"

"Ah!" cried Caius Julius, who had just hurried back, after having beenaway for a very brief time giving the orders which had set the wholecamp in motion. "This is bad for you, Cracis, for we start at oncestraight for the pass, and as fast as we can go. Do you think you willbe able to sit a horse?"

"I will, " said Cracis, firmly. "Yes, I am better now. My wounds aremere scratches, and once I get to-day and to-night over I shall benearly myself again. "

"Nearly, " said Caius Julius, with a smile. "Well, we shall see. Whatdo you say, nurse?"

Marcus flushed up at the term by which he was addressed. 

"If my father says he will do a thing he will, " cried the boy. 

"No doubt, " said the general; "but do you feel well enough to give meyour counsel and make any suggestions about our return?"

"Yes, certainly, " was the reply. "First, then, tell me if you are fullyaware of our position. "

"Yes, " said Julius, "we have scattered the Gauls in every direction, andas soon as we start they will take it for granted that we are sodisheartened that we are hurrying back through the country in fullretreat, and they will begin to flow back upon us like a great tide, fiercer and more venturesome than ever. "

"That is enough, " said Cracis. "I ought to have known your feelings, but nearly helpless as I am, I was afraid that last triumph would makeyou over confident, and that our followers would take their cue fromtheir leader and become careless at a time when our position will bemore hazardous than ever. "

"Trust me, Cracis; I shall be ready for the enemy at any moment. Now, Marcus, can I leave your father in your charge?"

"No, " said Cracis, before the boy could speak, "I am not going to be aburden to our men and join the train of litters and our wounded. My sonMarcus and his old follower, Serge, will join one of the cohorts, andyou will place him where I am sure he would like to be as his father'sson. "

"And that is--?" said Caius Julius. 

"Where would you like to be, my boy?"

Marcus flushed deeper than ever as he replied:

"Serge always taught me, father, that the place of honour was in thefront. "

That morning, as the army moved off in perfect order from their campupon the hill, a message came to where Marcus was marching on one sideof his father's horse, Serge limping stiffly along on the other, thatthe boy was to come forward to join his cohort at once, by the general'sorders; and Marcus started upon seeing that the messenger, at the headof ten stern-looking veterans, was the young officer who had fetched himto the general's tent. 

There was a brief and soldierly leave-taking, and then Marcus washurrying forward with his guide, who began at once to falter outhurriedly his apologies for his former treatment of the boy. 

"I didn't know, " he said. "I couldn't tell who you were. I thought youwere to be a prisoner brought in as a traitorous Roman who had beenfighting on the enemy's side. "

"Don't say a word more, " cried Marcus, holding out his hand, and, thebest of friends directly, the young officer began to tell him how allthat he had done was known in the cohort, and how proud the men were tohave Cracis' son appointed to join their ranks. 

"Ah, " said Serge, as soon as he could get an opportunity to speak toMarcus alone, "do you see how I am marching now, my lad?"

"Oh, I have been watching you all the way, " cried Marcus, "and pityingyou. "

"What!" growled the old soldier. 

"You seemed so lame and in such pain. I don't know what has become ofour chariot, but as that's gone you ought to be in one of the litterscarried by the slaves. "

"Wha-a-at!" growled the old soldier, making the interjection as long inits utterance as half a dozen six-syllabled words. "Well, I do callthis hard! The knocking about you have had must have got into yourhead, my lad, and upset your eyes. Why, you can't see a bit!"

"What do you mean?" cried Marcus. 

"Why, this, boy. When I began to march after that young cockerel hadbrought the orders, I was so stiff that I could hardly put one legbefore the other; but the very news of you being appointed to take yourplace in one of the leading cohorts of the army has acted like salve, and all my stiffness is as good as gone. Carried in a litter by slaves!Me! Do I look the sort of fellow who wants carrying in a litter like asick woman? Bah! Why, before we get far on the march we shall have theenemy closing in on all sides, and the fight beginning. "

"Think so, Serge?"

"Yes, my boy. We have got our work cut out, for they'll never believetill it's knocked into them that we are not making a retreat. Me in alitter!" he growled. "Just you wait a bit, and I shall be showing thatI have got a little fighting left in me. "

Serge proved his words the very next day, when, after many hours'marching painfully in the ranks, pretty close to where his young masterhad been appointed a junior officer, and been received by the men withcheers, a desperate attack was made upon this, the advance guard, by aperfect crowd of fierce Gallic warriors made up of the scatteredremnants of the beaten army, who came down upon the marching cohort likethe sea upon some massive rock. So fierce was the onslaught that thoughthe Roman ranks remained comparatively unbroken, they were pressed backby the sheer weight of their enemies, but only to recoil, and as theyadvanced to recover their lost ground, it was over the bodies of some oftheir wounded men, and to Marcus' horror he found himself once morecalled upon to dash forward to another's help. This time, however, itwas not blindly and in the dusk, for a shiver of dread ran through him, knowing how crippled his old companion was, when he saw that Serge wasone of those who had been unable to keep his place in the rank when theRomans were driven back, and that now he was defending himself andstriving to hold his own against the attack of three of the Gauls. Tearing off his helmet, as if it were an incumbrance, and making hisshort sword flash through the air, Marcus rushed to his old companion'shelp, but too late to save him being hurled heavily to the ground, while, ready as he was to contend against ordinary weapons, thisbarbaric method of attack confused and puzzled him. One of hishalf-nude enemies made as if to flinch from a coming blow, and thensprang up, hurling something through the air, and in an instant the boyfound himself entangled in the long cord of strips of hide, which wasdragged tight above his arms and crippled the blow he would have struck, while as he was jerked round the Gaul's companions flung themselves uponhis back, and for the moment he was prisoner in his turn. 

The struggle that followed was brief, for the blade Marcus wielded wasthat in which old Serge had taken pride, feeling as he did that hismaster's son should be armed with a weapon that was keenest of the keen. Fortunately, too, the aim of the enemy was to make a prisoner of thewell-caparisoned young Roman, and not a slay, so that Marcus, in spiteof the way in which his arms were dragged to his side, was able to turnthe point of his sword upward, and give one thrust between the cord andhis breast, when the rope parted like tinder upon the razor-like edge, and his enemies started back from the sweep of the terrible blade hewhirled above his head. 

Staggered for the moment, they were preparing for a fresh attack whenSerge, uttering a deep growl like a wounded lion, sprang to his feet, after snatching his sword from where it lay. 

That was enough for the three Gauls, who turned at once and fled, for arank of the Roman soldiers was advancing, and as they closed up, Marcusand Serge were free to take their places in the line once more as ifnothing had happened, and the advance guard steadily pressed on. 

There was a fortnight's hard fighting carried on day by day, with asuccession of halts for the formation of camps in the strongestpositions that offered themselves as havens of refuge against a teemingenemy which refused to be crushed and constantly swarmed round theretiring Roman army, perfectly reckless of life, and apparently contentwith the smallest advantages that they could gain. 

Rolled back one day by a Roman charge, the Gauls gathered together againduring the night to attack and harass the retiring troops; but all wasin vain, for step by step Caius Julius carried all before him, and thehelp that Marcus had been sent to seek gradually drew nearer to thebeleaguered force till one morning, as the army came into position tocontinue its march, Marcus was passing along the ranks and halted bySerge, who eagerly drew his attention to the glittering snow upon themountains a mile or two in front. 

"See that?" he cried. "Why, before long we shall reach that stream andbe marching into that great hollow among the mountains where we stoppedthat day with the chariot to see our general lead his men up into thepass. Why, to-night we ought to be camping there amongst the snows; anda nice change too, my boy, for its been rather hot work for about afortnight now. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, quietly; "but according to the tidings the scoutshave been bringing in all through the night, the Gauls are swarming inthat great amphitheatre between here and the pass, and all promises forthe biggest fight that the army has yet had. "

Serge took off his helmet and rubbed one ear thoughtfully, as he gazedstraight before him in the direction of the pass. 

"Well, " he said, slowly, "I shouldn't wonder if such a fight did comeoff, and if it does it will be hard and fierce. I shouldn't wonder ifit is what your father means. That used to be the way we went on: heplanned where the fight was to be, and Caius Julius went on and won. Iremember every bit of that amphitheatre place, and what a death trap itseemed. You know the captain would not stay in it when the Gauls hadsurrounded him, but left the way clear for us to go for the help we'vebrought, and led his force right up into the pass so as to make theenemy follow him. Now our generals are scheming to get the Gauls, whohave kept on attacking us front, rear and flanks, right into thatamphitheatre of a place in the mountains, where they mean, so it seems, to make a stand and stop our getting up by the pass--for that's whatthey think we mean to do--so as to join forces with him who is holdingit still. "

"But is he holding it still?" said Marcus. "The scouts that were sentout last night as soon as it was dark have not yet returned. "

"Yes they have, " said Serge, quickly. "I saw them come back an hourago, and make for the general's headquarters. "

Serge was right, for one of his comrades had heard the result of theirinvestigation, the news they brought back being that their leader wasstill holding the pass, and, what was more, he was well supplied withprovisions, for the country people on the farther slope, realising thestrength of the Roman general's position, had judged it best to acceptthe conquest, and, making friends, had kept up an ample supply of food, so that the little force which kept the gateway into Gaul and commandedthe approaches on either side, had had no greater difficulties tocontend with than an occasional attack on the part of the enemy. 

This being made known to Serge, he laughed softly. 

"There, you'll see how our generals will carry to-day's work out, mylad. That's it: Cracis has calculated upon its being like this, andthis place will be instead of a retreat a masterly scheme which will endthis war. "

"How?" said Marcus. 

"How? Why, in the way your father has arranged. You'll see that whenwe advance the general will throw out two wings to secure the littlehollows by which the Gauls have been advancing, till he has got roundthem, and then, and then only, he will advance his centre. Do you see?"

"Not quite, " said Marcus, "though I am trying to follow you. "

"Well, I should have thought you would have been soldier enough to haveseen what would follow. "

"A desperate fight?" said Marcus. 

"Most likely, boy; but don't you see what will happen then?"

"A horrible slaughter, Serge, " said Marcus, excitedly. 

"Perhaps, boy, but it may happen that when the enemy finds how he hasbeen out-manoeuvred and that he is trapped he may surrender. "

"But everything has proved that the enemy is too stubborn for that. "

"He has never been in such a fix as this yet, my boy. "

"But he has equal chances with us, Serge, and may fight to the last anddrive us back. "

"Not when he finds out the truth. "

"That our men are better disciplined than his?"

"No, boy; he must have found that out long ago. Not that, but that, asI said before, he has been completely out-manoeuvred by your father. "

"Well, you said that before, Serge, " said Marcus, impatiently; "but Idon't see matters as you do, though I have tried very hard. "

"Then you ought to have seen, " cried the old soldier, gruffly. "Thecaptain is still holding the pass, isn't he?"

"Yes, we have heard so. "

"Well, boy, knowing him, do you think he will go on holding it withoutdoing anything when we advance and close the enemy in more and more?"

"Ah! I see now!" cried Marcus, eagerly. "He will come down from thepass with his men, and attack the Gauls in the rear. "

"To be sure he will, and do the greater part of the fighting and drivingthe enemy on to our troops. Why, in a very short time, as I see it, Imean after the attack, half their men will be prisoners, for no matterhow clever the Gaul general may be he is bound to give up or have hisforces cut down to a man. "

"Yes, " said Marcus, eagerly. 

"Just you take warning, then, boy, by this day's work: never you, whenyou grow up to be a general with an army at your command, never you letyourself be driven into a hole like this where you may be caught betweentwo fires. "

"I never will if I can help it, " said Marcus, smiling. 

"Forewarned is forearmed, boy. You know now. "

"Yes, Serge; but I am anxious to see what this afternoon brings forth. "

"Not much but a little marching and counter marching to get things quiteexact and to the satisfaction of our generals. I expect this battlewill be fought out before night. "

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. 

AFTER THE BATTLE. 

Serge was right. The weather was glorious; the hot sun blazed down; butthe heat was tempered by the gentle breeze which wafted its coolnessfrom the snowy pass. 

To one ignorant of the horrors that lurked behind, it was one granddisplay of armed men, with their armour glittering and standards onhigh, marching in different bodies as if to take part in some gloriouspageant to be held in the mighty, rugged amphitheatre whose walls weremountains and whose background was formed by the piled-up masses of iceand snow, here silvery, there dazzling golden in the blaze of theafternoon sun, and farther back beauteous with the various azure tints, from the faintest tinge to the deepest purple, in the rifts and chasmsfar on high. 

There was a grim meaning behind it all as the troops under the commandof Caius Julius swept round by slow degrees to seize upon and hold thedifferent little valleys leading into the amphitheatre, and all in aslow orderly fashion suggesting merely change of position, and as ifcollision with the Gallic force was the last thing likely to occur. 

For as the Roman soldiery gradually advanced as if the distant pass werethe object they held in view, ready for pressing through it in one longextended column, the barbarian troops gradually fell back, to formthemselves into one vast dam whose object it was to check the Romanhuman river and roll it back broken and dismembered, ready for finaldestruction in the plains they had invaded. 

There were moments when, as he stood beside the line of stalwart menwith whom he had been placed, Marcus' thoughts were wholly upon thescene of which, from high up on a slope of one of the valleys, he had amost comprehensive view; and he too was ready to forget what was behind, as for an hour he watched and waited, until as if by magic the marchingand changing of position of the thousands before his eyes had ceased. 

It was evening then, with the sun sinking behind the hills in the rearof the now concentrated Roman army, while the Gauls who filled theamphitheatre and faced them were lit up, and their armour and weaponsblazed as if turned to fire by the orange glow which rose and filled themountain hollows and the pass beyond with its ever-deepening reddeninghaze. 

Naturally enough Marcus took his stand close by Serge, who seemed tohave quite recovered from the injuries which he had received, and stoodup bronzed and sturdy, with his face lit up with the expectancy of onewhose training taught him to foresee a triumph for the Roman arms. 

"Are we all ready, Serge?" said Marcus, in a low voice. 

"Yes, boy. Isn't it grand! Take the lesson to heart. You willunderstand it better later on, for it's too much for one so young as youto take in all at once. Look how our generals have placed their men, with never a bit of confusion from beginning to end, and all ready whenthe trumpets sound to advance and strike, while these Gauls, crowded uptogether into this great trap, don't even know as yet that their numberswill be worse than nothing, only a big crowd in which every man will bein his neighbour's way. "

"But suppose they stand fast, " said Marcus, "instead of giving way?"

"We shall march over them, boy, straight for the pass. Nothing can stopour advance. One of our lines may go down, but another will step intoits place, and if that is broken there is another close behind, andanother and another, each of which must weaken the resistance and pavethe way for our army to pass on. "

"Don't say pave the way, Serge. It sounds too horrible, and makes methink of what it means. "

"Don't think, then, boy. "

"I must, " replied Marcus; "but it will be dreadful for the first cohortwhich leads. "

"Grand, you mean, boy, " cried the veteran, "and you ought to be proud, for it is ours. "

"I don't see any signs of the captain's coming to meet us. "

"In hiding perhaps, " said Serge. "He's certain to be there. He willnot let his men show themselves until we advance, and he has not stirredas yet. "

"How do you know?"

"Look at the barbarians, " cried the old soldier, pointing to the distantcrowd far up the slope. "They would be showing it by now if he werecoming on. "

"It is getting late, " said Marcus, after a pause. 

"Yes, " replied Serge, "and if I were in command I should be here tobegin leading on my men. Think of that now, " he whispered, sharply. "Here he is!"

"Who? My father?"

"No, boy. He'd be in the rear upon one of these hills, directing theadvance of the legions, where he can look over the whole amphitheatre. "

No more was said, for a thrill seemed to be running through the longserried line of veterans extending to right and left, as, followed by agroup of his principal officers, Caius Julius rode close up to hisleading cohort, gave the order to advance, and turned his horse to ridein front and lead. 

Then as the heavy tramp of the armed men rang out and the advance withshield joined to shield moved on over the stony ground, there was a roarlike distant thunder which rose and rolled and reverberated from therocks around, as the Gauls in one vast mass flashed forward to meet themand sweep the van of the Roman army away. 

The deep thunderous sound as of a storm was awe-inspiring enough todaunt the stoutest, but it had no effect upon the Roman warriors whosteadily advanced close to the heels of their leaders' horses; and oncemore with his heart beating fast the while, it all seemed to Marcus likesome grand pageant in which he was honoured by being allowed to play hislittle part. 

Fate had placed his rank almost within touch of their general, who rodecalmly, probably anticipating that the wild charge of Gauls as they cametearing on would never be carried home, and that the enemy would meltaway to right and left before the steady pressure of that rank upon rankof unbroken shields bristling with sword and spear. 

But the general was deceived. The wild barbarian charge ofundisciplined Gallic warriors was carried home. Borne on by their ownimpetuosity, and pressed forward by the crowd behind, the enemy came onwith a wild rush, and then came the clashing arms, the roar of thefierce multitude. Then as the steady stride of the line of Romanveterans was checked in the awful shock, Marcus was conscious of thestruggles of a charger which reared up, fighting fiercely with its hoofsagainst the enemy which hemmed him in, and then of its sidewise fall, tolie upon its flank, plunging feebly in its efforts to rise, before lyingprone and motionless with half a dozen spear thrusts in its breast andthroat. 

Marcus was conscious of striking out fiercely with his keen, shortsword, and of the pressure on both sides amidst the roar and rush of thefight in which he was taking part. But all seemed wild and confused, ashe stood with one foot planted on the fallen horse's side, the other onthe rock, holding his shield the while in front of the fallen rider, whowas striving vainly to free himself from the weight of the charger whichpinned him down. 

It seemed to be some long space of time, all horror and death, duringwhich men fought and heaved and swayed, sometimes beaten back a fewfeet, then recovering themselves, regaining the lost ground, andpressing on, till in regular rhythmic pulsation rank after rank ofwarriors tramped on, opening out as they reached the group of dead andwounded men whose core was the spear-slain horse. But in fact it wasbut a matter of minutes before the pressure ceased as the ranks passedon and a big, heavy-looking man came up, and by signs--for no voicecould make itself heard--seemed to be urging other men to seize and dragthe dead horse off the prisoned officer, who was saving himself fromfalling prone, possibly to be trampled to death by the advancing ranks, by clasping his hands round Marcus' waist as he still stood over himwith ready sword and shield. 

The start having been made, there were willing hands in plenty to dragthe horse away, and its rider stood up, holding on by Marcus' arms, asonce more a wave of the enemy seemed to rise up out of the tumultuoussea of carnage, sweeping between the two Romans and their friends, theformer being left to face the bristling spears of the Gauls, and deathappearing inevitable for Marcus and the officer he had saved. 

The boy was borne back by half a score of the hirsute semi-savages, leaving his companion standing erect with nothing to defend himself buthis clenched hand, when, half maddened by the scene, Marcus uttered awild cry, recovered himself, and dashed forward to the rescue, staggering the foe with astonishment by the fierceness of his onslaught, as he literally hurled himself between the officer and his fate, theupraised shield turning aside the spears gliding with deadly aim towardhis throat. 

At that moment the deadly wave of destruction was checked in its onwardsweep by the rebound of a line of Roman veterans, the Gauls fell back, and the officer drew himself up panting and waving one arm on high, whena couple of officers rode up, one of whom dismounted and held hisstirrup, when, without a word, the companion of Marcus in peril sprangupon the charger's back and dashed forward, the late rider holding on bythe mane. 

"Well done, boy! Grand!" was shouted in Marcus' ear, as he stood therewondering whether it was all real, that noise of men tramping by, theclash of arms, and the roar as of muttering thunder ahead, and not somehorrible dream in which, faint and sick, everything was whirling slowlyround. 

"That you, Serge?" someone said, for they did not seem to be his words. 

"Yes, boy; grand, but we ought to be along with our cohort, and it's farahead, so we must join the ranks of one of these that are going by. "

"Are we losing?" said Marcus, faintly, and still it was as if someoneelse was speaking. 

"Losing!" cried the old soldier. "Winning, you mean. But think of youhaving such luck as that!"

"Luck?--Luck?" said the same voice, slowly. 

"Yes, I never saw anything like you. Sprang forward, you did, just asthe general's horse reared up, and saved him from an ugly death by thethrust you gave that Gaul. "

"Who did?" said the same voice, feebly heard in the horrible dream. 

"Who did? Why, you did, and covered him afterwards with your shield allthe while he was pinned down by his dead charger. Why, Marcus, boy, ifyou were a man you'd be made a big officer at once. But what's thematter with you, boy?"

"I--I don't know, Serge. "

"But I do!" roared the old soldier, with a roar like a lion. "Why, whodid this?"

"That--that Gaul, " said the boy, faintly, as he felt himself seized andpressed back, to lie with his head pillowed upon the dead charger'sneck, while he was conscious of his old comrade's hands being busilyunbuckling his armour and then bandaging him tightly to stop the flowingblood. 

"Feel better now, boy?" cried Serge, at last, as he bent down close tothe wounded lad's face. 

"Yes; not so sick, " was the reply. "But tell me, Serge, about thefight, " and as Marcus uttered these words he was conscious that theywere his own. 

"Tell you about the fight? Ah, that's a sign you are better. A nastycut, my boy, between the shoulder and the neck. But it's nothing tohurt. "

"But it does, Serge. "

"Pooh! Only smarts. It hasn't killed you. Soldiers expect wounds, andyou've got yours. "

"But the fight--the fight?"

"Oh, just what I told you it would be, boy. The captain has brought hismen down the pass, and the Gauls, taken between the two armies, arebreaking up and streaming away to right and left. There'll be no Gallicarmy by the time the litters come to carry the wounded off the field, and the first shall be for the lad who saved the life of Caius Julius. "

"Oh, Serge, it is impossible that I could have done that, " said Marcus, feebly. 

"That's what I should have said, boy, if I had not seen. "

"But, Serge?"

"I look out sharp, boy, so don't doubt what I say. Your wound made youforget. I wonder whether the general will. "

"But you don't tell me about the fight, Serge. "

"What, do you want to know more?"

"Of course. "

"Well, the Gauls are taken in a trap, and after all is over I hope thatone of those snowstorms will come down from the pass to cover all thatthe amphitheatre will have to show. It's terrible work, my boy. "

"Horrible! Horrible indeed!" sighed Marcus, as he looked sadly round atthe traces of the fight that had taken place about the fallen horse. 

"Yes, my lad, I can't help thinking just the same, " said the oldsoldier, as he stooped to pick up the spear he had laid down while hebound his young companion's wound, and leaned upon the staff as he gazedstraight away in the direction where the fight seemed to be ragingstill. 

And the time passed on, till the tumult died away, and the old soldierstood watching still and waiting anxiously, while Marcus lay silent inthe troubled sleep that came to dull his pain. 

At last the boy stirred, and Serge bent over him. 

"Awake, boy?" he said. 

"Yes, Serge. Have been asleep?"

"Yes. "

Marcus gazed around him, and shuddered at the traces of the fight. 

"Horrible!" he sighed. 

"Yes, boy, " said the old warrior, gravely; "I suppose it is, in spite ofall the glory and triumph and the like; but, " he continued, after apause, as he raised his spear, whose head glimmered in the pale light ashe pointed in the direction of the shining crest of one of the mountainsbeyond, while far away lay Rome, "our country must rule the world. "

Marcus sighed. 

"And give up the bravest and the best of her sons to fight her cause!"sighed the old soldier to himself. "But I hope the general won't forgetwhat even a boy can do. "

Caius Julius did not, for a little later a group of mounted menappeared, and the faint cheers of the wounded soldiery greeted them asthey passed. 

"It was somewhere near here, Cracis, " said one of the party, and thenpointing with his sword, "Ah, it must have been there. Yonder is mypoor horse. Yes, there lies your brave son not dead, for he has raisedand is waving his hand to you. Another great triumph for Rome, Cracis, but I'd give up all the glory I have won to possess a son like yours. "