yet, for
venturing to play the man?"

Sergius felt the added danger to which the master-of-the-horse had
exposed him by using his insubordination to point such a moral to his
commander; but the face of the dictator gave no sign that he had even
heard the taunting challenge. Calmly he gave his orders for cautious
scouting, for breaking camp, and for the army to resume its patient
march of observation, along the flank of the retiring foe. Then, when
one after another had retired to fulfil his commands, he turned again
to the waiting tribune.

"I have been considering your fault," he said slowly, "and I had marked
you out as a much needed victim for the rods and axe. Go to my
master-of-the-horse and thank him for your life. His taunt was
doubtless meant to destroy you, in order that he might play the
demagogue over your fate. I accept it as a challenge to my
self-control. It is more necessary that I should show myself wise and
forbearing than that one fool should perish for his folly. Go back to
Rome, and tell them that I have many soldiers who can fight, and that I
want only those who can obey."

Utterly exhausted, Sergius struggled vainly to withstand this last,
crushing blow. His composure was unequal to the task, and, sinking
upon his knees, as the dictator turned toward the tent, he could only
stretch out one hand and murmur:--

"The axe, my master; I pray you, the axe."

Fabius paused a moment and eyed him grimly. Then his rugged, weary
face softened slightly.

"I trusted you," he said. "Could you not trust me for a little while?
But go to Rome, as I bade you--only there shall others go with you, and
you shall bear for your message, instead of that one, this: that there
is no room for wounded men in my camp."

"But I shall be well in two days--in one--I am well now if you say it."

Fabius shook his head slowly.

"Aesculapius has not been unhonoured by me," he said, "and he has told
me that you will be but a burden for many days. For this reason go to
Rome, and for two others that you shall not tell of: one, for
punishment because you could not obey, and one, because the time will
come soon when Rome shall need even the men who can only fight."

Sergius saw the hopelessness of struggling against his softened fate,
bitter though it was. Open disgrace, indeed, had been turned aside;
but, on the other hand, he was doomed to inaction during times when all
Rome longed only to strike, and he could