on
guard."

Sergius gazed in astonishment. A Marcia spoke whom he had never known;
but the old man smiled grimly.

"It is the blood," he said. "She is truly 'Manlia,' though called,
against custom, for my dead Marcius. When Claudians change the toga
for the paludamentum, and Ogulnians cease to babble of Greek
philosophy, then shall a Manlian be lacking in the spirit of our
order--ay, and in the courage to act."

Marcia did not seem to hear his words. Her brows were drawn together
in what Sergius considered a very pretty frown. She turned toward him.

"They have gotten their butcher for consul," she went on; "now let him
lead them. How long before they will be begging for the swords they
have despised! Let them alone! Let Hannibal work his will; then we
shall stand forth, like the exiled Camillus, to defend a Rome purged of
its black blood--a Rome worth defending--"

But Sergius had recovered from his surprise, and his face was serious,
as he interrupted the torrent of words.

"Patrician and plebeian must stand or fall together, my Marcia," he
said quietly. "It is the Republic that we shall defend, and defend the
more bravely because it is, in a way, defenceless. If a time of
madness come upon a parent, do we not guard her the more tenderly who
cannot guard herself?--ay, and even against the foolish acts she may
herself attempt?"

"And you--you--a Sergius, will serve under this Varro?" she exclaimed.

"Truly," he said bowing, "I am a Roman, and the barbarians are in
Italy. When they are gone, I will fight Varro on the rostra, in the
Senate. Perhaps I shall even lead my clients to drag him, stabbed,
from his house."

She was gazing at him with great, round eyes in which the contempt and
anger began to give place to a softer look--a look which no man might
hope quite to interpret; then she threw her head to one side and
laughed, but the laugh was short and nervous.

"I congratulate your eloquence and patriotism, as I sympathize with
your unpropitious gallantry. May Venus make happy your next pursuit of
a pretty slave."

Again she laughed, and this time her laugh was unfeignedly malicious.
Sergius flushed crimson; Torquatus looked scandalized and stern; but
before either could answer, she was gone.

"You will return to the army, then?" said the old man, hurriedly and as
if to cover his annoyance. "How soon will your strength be sufficient?"

"I shall set out to-night," said Sergius. The flush