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 that
into a walk, while the fugitives watched the slow, steady advance of the
barbarians, 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 chariot
and its occupants as they kept on closing up and gradually narrowing the
extent of the open plain about which the galloping evolutions had taken
place.

"It's just as if they knew that we were the bearers of an important
message, Serge," said Marcus.

"Seems like it, boy, but it is not," was the reply. "We're enemies and
invaders on their lands, and they mean to take us at all costs. It
looks bad too."

"What does?" said Marcus, sharply.

"The country being up like this. It looks bad for our army, boy. I'm
beginning to think that Julius has had to fight every step of the way he
has come, and if our message was not what it is I should say it was our
soldierly duty to give up attempting to get through with it."

"What!" cried Marcus, with a look of horror, as he turned from watching
the 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 even
for 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 we
are now we should about be in the line our army took."

"Then we must make a brave dash now and with lowered spears gallop right
through 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 do
it?"

"Why like this," cried Marcus, excitedly--"Pull up!" he cried to the