r it; but don't, boy. I want to get on gently again, and to find
some sign of a farm, or peasants' hut. We must have food of some kind
if we are to do our work. Let's get a little farther on, and then I
must forage."

"Yes," said Marcus, sadly. "It seems waste of time, but it must be
done, I suppose. But why not let the ponies browse a little here? See,
they have already begun."

"Because it will be of no use for us to look about here."

"Of course not," said Marcus, hastily, and he stood looking hurriedly
round, to see for the first time that all along the edge of the forest
which should have been bordered with fresh green bushes, was broken down
and trampled, while not far from where he stood fire had been doing its
work, and a large portion was blackened stump and skeleton-like stem.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

MARCUS' PROMISE.

"Seems to me, my lad," said Serge, "that we ought to have been started
on this journey two days earlier."

"Yes, Serge," replied Marcus, in a despairing tone. "It's maddening.
Here have we gone on, almost starved, never getting a proper night's
rest--"

"Well, but that's nothing to grumble at, my boy. That's soldiering;
that is what I always told you. A soldier must be ready to fast and go
without sleep, and be always prepared to fight. Now, didn't I teach you
that?"

"Yes, Serge, but I didn't quite understand it then."

"But you do now?"

"Oh, yes, I know now; and I wouldn't care a bit if we could only
overtake them. Three times over during the past week we have been so
close that half a day's march must have brought us to the army."

"That's true," said Serge; "and each time we were cut off by parties of
the enemy, and driven back, just as we thought we could march in, find
the master and Caius Julius, and deliver our message. Fortune of war,
my lad; fortune of war."

"Misfortune of war," cried Marcus, angrily. "Here, I don't know how
many days it is since we started, for days and nights and time all seem
to have grown mixed up together."

"Yes, we have had rather a muddled and worrying time of it, Marcus,
lad."

"And now we are just as far off as ever."

"Well, not quite, my lad."

"I feel weak for want of food, and confused for want of sleep."

"Not you! You only fancy that because you're down in the dumps. You'll
be all right as soon as ever there's anything wants doing and we have
tumbled by accident near to one of those parties of the enemy, who a