t array, and when, as the sun almost touched the meridian,
Lucius Sergius approached with despatches just arrived from Rome, he
was compelled to speak twice before the other was aware of his
presence. Then the dictator turned quickly, and, pointing to the
Carthaginians, exclaimed:--

"See! they are withdrawing. Do you not note how thin the centre grows?
Ah! I shall teach them new lessons of war--new lessons. They will find
in me no Flaminius, to let my enemy choose the day and field of battle."

Leaving the ramparts, they walked back toward the praetorium, Fabius
breaking the seals and reading the letters as he walked. When they
reached the tent, he stood still for a moment and seemed to study the
face of the young tribune who had followed, a half pace behind, to
receive any answer or order that might be forthcoming.

"What is your opinion of my refusing battle?" he asked suddenly, after
a short silence.

Sergius turned crimson, but he answered quickly:--

"I have learned to trust in my general until such time as I know him to
be unworthy of trust."

Fabius smiled.

"Some of your colleagues appear to have already arrived at the latter
conclusion," he said. Then, after a pause, he went on: "After all, it
is the judgment of the centurions that counts for most. Our legates
and tribunes feel disgraced by our refusing a challenge; they may be
sneered at for _that_, but who would blame _them_ for the defeat that
might follow its acceptance. The common soldier knows only his rage
against the enemy, sees his comrades about him furious for battle, and
comprehends nothing of its dangers. It is the centurions, our
veterans, who realize the truth: the worth of their own men as measured
against those of the enemy; nor are they puffed up with foolish pride
of rank. You observe, sir, that the centurions are with me."

Sergius bowed.

"Now mark well what will happen," pursued Fabius. "Hannibal will
retreat to his camp; he will break camp and march off during the night.
He must have forage, and he cannot scatter his forces while I am near.
He will escape, and I shall let him, rather than risk the army in a
night battle; but I shall hang close as the father-wolf to the stag's
haunch, keeping nevertheless to the high ground, where his cavalry
cannot trouble me. There will be need of good horsemen who shall cling
yet closer and advise me of his movements."

Sergius' eyes flashed with eagerness, but he said nothing.