the stars and think
and listen to what he now knew was the distant howling of wolves and
the nearer curses of Marcus Decius. At last he stirred slightly, and
the decurion turned and looked down.

"Do you live, master?"

"Yes, truly," replied Sergius; "unless you chance to be a shade."

Then he struggled to his feet, and the two gazed silently at each other
and around them. All about, in the moonlight, lay the bodies of horses
and men, the latter glittering in their white tunics, save here and
there an officer whose helmet and breastplate had seemed to mark out
his corpse for stripping and nameless desecrations. Sergius'
head-piece was gone, but he glanced at his own corselet and then at
Decius.

"We were buried together under a heap of dead," said the latter, in
answer to the unasked query. "They made haste in their spoiling; and,
when they had gone, I drew myself free and found you: the wolves are
feasting well to-night; can you walk?"

Sergius moved stiffly a few steps. He felt bruised from head to foot,
and one arm hung useless from a dislocated shoulder, but he found no
wound. Decius had not escaped so lightly. Besides the gash he had
received earlier in the day, he had been cut again across the forehead,
but his prodigious strength seemed to have inexhaustible resources to
draw upon.

"Come," he said. "We must go southward as quickly as possible.
Sergius still walked slowly about, glancing at one corpse after
another, until the decurion, at last divining his thought, broke in
roughly:--

"Come! The wolves must provide him sepulchre as they will do for
better men. What would he have? The she-wolf suckled the twins. Let
Hostilius pay the debt by feeding the she-wolf's cubs. By Hercules!
other sepulchre for him means need of one for ourselves."

So speaking, he at last drew Sergius away, and they began their weary
tramp across the field.

"If I could have seen but one pulse-eater among the slain," said the
tribune, after they had gone some distance in silence.

"I know of one that should be dead," remarked Decius, grimly, "if a
spear through his midriff be enough for him. Truly the ancient shafts
are useless in close fight, save for a single thrust. I, for one,
welcome the Greek equipment--and the sooner the better."

Suddenly Sergius stopped and laid his hand upon his comrade's arm.

"Look!" he said.

A long, low rampart seemed to rise up from the plain two hundred yards
ahead.

"Th