For some moments his mind was a complete blank, and the darkness seemed
impenetrable, while his mind absolutely refused to answer the mental
question--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 at
the imaginary patriarch of the home herd, but at his own head, which was
saved from harm by his helmet, the stroke causing a sharp sound
sufficiently loud to make Lupe utter an ominous growl, and the horses
where they were tethered start and stamp.

"And sarve you right too!" growled Serge, removing his helmet, which he
had knocked on one side, and softly rubbing one spot that had felt the
bottom edge keenly. "And here have I been going on about being honest
and keeping a true watch over that boy! Here, I'm proud of myself, I
am! If I go to sleep again it shall be standing up, anyhow." And
pulling himself together he shouldered his spear and commenced pacing up
and down, to keep it up steadily hour after hour, only pausing to listen
from time to time, to hear nothing more suspicious than the regular
night sounds of a camp surrounded by sentries and scouts and on the
watch for an enemy known to be near at hand.

Marcus slept well till daybreak, when the first warning of the enemy's
movements was given, and he sprang to his feet, to find himself face to
face 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, the
enemy had been gathering together again among the hills, and were coming
on in force to attack the camp; but what they had failed to do by their
night attack proved doubly difficult in the light of day. The little
Roman force, though vastly outnumbered and surrounded, was well
commanded by a skilful officer, who was able, by keeping his
well-disciplined men together, to roll back the desultory attacks
delivered on all sides, till, quite disheartened, the enemy retreated in
all directions and the march was resumed again.

That day's tramp and the many that followed were a succession of marches
through an enemy's country, with the foe always on the watch to harass
the little force, and cut it off from joining the main invading body far
ahead.

Every day brought i