ll
seem to be moving the same way as we are to surround the army."

"Yes, Serge, and that's what I am afraid they are doing, and keeping us
outside. It's all desperate and bad."

"Oh, I don't know. We shall get to them some time," said Serge.

"Some time!" cried Marcus, mockingly. "Our poor general with his
followers must have been utterly destroyed by this time."

"Tchah! Not he! You don't know what a Roman general can do. He'll
hold out for months, or kill those who are attacking him. Give it up
your fashion!"

"What do you mean by my fashion?" cried Marcus, sharply.

"Give it up in despair sort of way when there's no need."

"No need!" cried Marcus, bitterly. "You seem to be blind to the danger.
Why, the main army, as you must see perfectly well, has penetrated so
far into the enemy's country that it is completely surrounded by the
tribes that have gathered together, and are only now waiting for a
favourable opportunity to fall upon it and crush it."

"Well, the army's no worse off than we are. They've surrounded us--
parties of them--only we wouldn't be crushed. It's just the same with
the Roman army; it won't be crushed. I've taught you times enough, boy,
what our generals can do--lock their men together, shield to shield,
cohort to cohort, all facing outwards and bristling with spear and
sword. These barbarians are brave enough and they rush at our men
meaning to crush them and sweep them out of the country; and so they
keep on at it, losing more and more, before they roll back beaten."

"Yes, Serge, but only to try again."

"Oh, of course. That's right enough, but it only means to be rolled
back again. Now, look here, my boy; you have got your message to
deliver."

"Yes, yes, I know," cried Marcus, despairingly.

"And you are a bit disappointed because it's not done. Everything's
bad, you say. It's been all misfortune since we started, and we may as
well give up at once."

"Well, isn't it all true?" cried Marcus, as he stood unconsciously
caressing one of the chariot horses as the pair stood ready to make
another dash at a moment's notice, their driver busying himself the
while with seeing to and examining the different parts of the harness.

"True! Hardly a bit of it," cried Serge. "I ought to give you a good
drilling and bullying for what you said; but somehow I can't, for we
have had some very hard work, and all through you have been such a brave
boy."

"Oh, nonsense, Serge