on a mission to claim the assistance of
some 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, to
place himself with Julius at the head of the waiting men.

"You should have been here then," said one old man, "and seen the
welcome they had from our gallant boys and the women who crowded the
streets waiting to see them go. Ah, it made the tears come into my old
eyes to think that I should be left behind."

"Then why were you left behind?" growled Serge. "You are not an older
man than I."

"No," said the old soldier, laughing softly, "but you have two legs to
march on. I have only one and this stick."

Marcus glanced sharply down at the speaker, and, seeing the boy's
intention, the old fellow laughed again.

"Oh, yes, you are thinking I lie. There's two of them, my lad, and
one's as good a leg as ever stepped; but as for the other, it's years
ago 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 round
to catch me just above the heel. But he never made another blow,"
continued the old man, grimly. "My short, sharp sword took him in the
chest, 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 was
never fit to march again, or I shouldn't be talking to you here. But
look here, old fellow, you were ready enough to twit me about not being
with 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 he
rested upon his staff, "and some great fighting men who win great
battles with their tongues are always too late to strike a blow. How is
it 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 been
there."

"Well, I'll tell you," said Serge. "It was like this. My chariot had
gone 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 the
driver had gone away to get married and couldn't be found, and so I had
to walk. And now you know."

"Bah!" cried the old man. "Look at your rough hands! You have been
like me. You never had a chariot or horses of y