ere eager to escape from the savage scenes and bloodshed going on
around.

But before a hundred yards had been traversed, the sea of human beings
closed in again, completely filling up the opening, and seeming about to
entirely stop the fugitives' course.

Serge and the driver, both now as excited as the horses, burst forth
into a wild cry of command, and this and the sight of the dimly-seen
approaching steeds thundering along had their effect. The crowd opened
out again just as the driver's efforts were rewarded and he was able to
check the furious gallop of his steeds and save them from plunging into
the mass of friend and foe alike.

The gallop became a trot, the trot a gentle amble, as the chariot now
rolled slowly on to where about a score altogether of Romans and Gauls,
each party headed by an officer, were just in the act of meeting, pretty
evenly balanced, in deadly combat.

As with wild shouts they rushed together with sword and spear clashing
loudly against helmet, shield, or the protecting body armour they wore,
the driver of Marcus' chariot dragged upon his left rein to try and
swing round to avoid the contending foes. But in the darkness he did
not grasp that which was on his left, and Marcus became aware by a
sudden jerk that their further progress was at an end, the chariot being
wedged in between a couple of trees, while the horses were plunging
wildly to escape from a tangle of bush and branch, and the driver had
leaped out to seize them by their heads.

"Look, look!" shouted Serge just then.

Marcus, who had had to cling to the sides of the chariot to save himself
from being thrown out, turned sharply to learn the meaning of his old
comrade's cry, and he was just in time to see him throw himself over the
chariot's side, evidently to hurry to the help of the Roman officer and
his few men, who, completely outnumbered, were being beaten down by two
or three times their number of Gauls.

Serge said no more in words; his acts spoke for themselves, and grasping
that he meant at all costs to go to the help of the Roman officer,
Marcus stood for a moment spear in hand and hurled it with all his might
at four of the barbarians who were attacking the Roman leader, who was
cut off from his companions and faring badly, in spite of a valorous
defence, at his enemies' hands.

It was pretty nearly momentary, but Marcus took all in at a glance. He
saw that their coming and the dash of the chariot had had t