now what to call
it. Why, Marcus, you must feel very proud of what you have done."

"Stop!" cried the boy, quickly, eager to end the words of praise and
compliment.

"Yes, stop," said Cracis, sternly. "You here, Marcus, in a soldier's
armour, and Serge as well! Is this the way my commands are obeyed? Why
are you here?"

"To bring the message of the general commanding the rear-guard, father.
He is shut in on the snowy pass that crosses the mountain, and held
there by many times his number of the enemy; and he sent me and Serge to
the army here to ask for help."

"He sent you, boy?" cried Cracis, quickly.

"Yes, father," replied Marcus, "and I was to say that at all cost he
would hold out till help was sent."

"Help shall be sent at once," said Cracis, firmly; "or better still,
Julius," he continued, "our work being so far completed, with
yesterday's victory, we will march to his help ourselves."

Caius Julius bent his head without saying a word, and then sat back in
his seat, attentively watching father and son.

"But your message did not answer my question, boy," said Cracis, coldly.
"Marcus, my son, how came it that you were with the little army that at
my orders was to follow in our wake, crushing down the Gauls who would
be sure to gather after we had passed? Speak out, sire: how came you
there?"

"I could not bear it, father: something seemed to tell me that you would
be in danger, and I followed you to Rome, and then on here."

"Then you disobeyed my commands, boy," said Cracis, sternly; and Marcus
sank upon his other knee, clasped his hands, and held them out before
him. Closing his eyes then he threw back his head and was silent while
one might have slowly counted ten. Then in a low, distinct tone, full
of sorrow and despair, he said slowly:

"Yes, father; I disobeyed your command."

"And you, Serge, my old and trusted servant, old soldier though you
were," continued Cracis, in tones that sounded icy, "as soon as my back
was turned you plotted with my son to follow me and forsake your post."

"Nay, master," cried Serge, quickly; "there was no plotting. I deserted
first."

"Hah!" ejaculated Caius Julius again, and his clearly-cut face looked as
if it were formed of marble.

"Worse and worse," cried Cracis, angrily. "Then you set the example
which my weak son followed?"

"No, father," cried Marcus, quickly; "I did not know that Serge had
gone."

"Ah!" said Cracis, quickly. "What exc