we are very simple here, but
you will be welcome and stay here to-night."

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

"Not yet," said Cracis, gravely. "It means so much, and I must have the
night 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 drew
back with a feeling of relief on seeing that the old soldier was right
away crossing one of the fields. "It would not have been right without
speaking to my father first," thought Marcus. "I wonder what they are
saying 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 the
next 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 tossing
about, thinking how hot it was, getting in and out of bed to open the
window wider or to close it again, changing from side to side, and
trying as hard as he possibly could to go off to sleep; and, even when
at last he succeeded, it seemed that he had suddenly plunged into a new
state of wakefulness in which he was listening to Caius Julius and then
quarrelling with him.

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

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

The night, which generally passed so quickly, seemed as if it would
never end, and when at last he did start up from perhaps the worst and
most exciting dream of all, to find that the sun was just about