d Marcus and with a merry laugh, "a boy too!"

"Hah! Yes," said the stranger, smiling also, as he gazed searchingly in
the boy's clear eyes. "So you lead a very happy life here, do you?"

"Oh yes!"

"But not alone?" said the stranger.

"Oh no, of course not," cried Marcus. "There's father, and old Serge,
and the labourers and servants."

"Yes, a very pleasant place," said the stranger, as he once more wiped
his dewy face.

"You look hot," said the boy. "Come in and sit down for a while and
rest. It's nice and shady in my room, and you get the cool breeze from
the mountains."

"Thank you, my boy, I will," said the stranger, and he followed Marcus
through the shady garden and into the lately vacated room, where the boy
placed a chair, and his visitor sank into it with a sigh of relief.

"Have you walked far?" he asked.

"Yes, some distance," was the reply; "but the country is very beautiful,
especially through the woodlands, and very pleasant to one who is fresh
from the hot and crowded city."

"The city!" cried Marcus, eagerly. "You don't mean Rome?"

"I do mean Rome," said the visitor, leaning back smiling, and with his
eyes half closed, but keenly reading the boy the while. "Have you ever
been there?"

"Oh no," said Marcus, quickly, "but I know all about it. My father
often used to tell me about Rome."

"Your father? May I ask who your father is?"

"Cracis," said the boy, drawing himself up proudly, as if he felt it an
honour to speak of such a man. "He used to live in Rome. You've come
from there. Did you ever hear of him?"

"Cracis? Cracis? Yes, I have heard the name. Is he at home?"

"No; he went out this morning; but I daresay he will be back soon.
Serge is out too."

"Serge?" said the stranger.

"Yes; our man who superintends the farm. He was an old soldier, and
knew Rome well. He was in the wars."

"Ha!" said the stranger. "And they are both away?"

"Yes; but you are tired, sir, and look faint. I'll come back directly."

Marcus hurried from the room, but returned almost immediately, laden
with a cake of bread, a flask and cup, and a bunch or two of grapes
lying in an open basket.

"Ha, ha!" said the visitor, smiling. "Then you mean to play the host to
a tired stranger?"

"Of course," said the boy. "That is what father would do if he were at
home."

"And the son follows his father's teaching, eh?"

Marcus smiled, and busied himself in pouring out a cup of wine