"Oh, I do, I do, father! I can feel that it must be terrible," cried
the boy, excitedly; "but there is no need for you to go alone. I know
how young I am, but I could be of great help to you. I am sure I could.
So pray, pray don't leave me behind."

"Is that all you have to say, Marcus?" said Cracis, sternly.

"Ye-e-es, father," faltered the boy, in a despairing tone, for he could
read plainly enough in his father's eyes that his appeal had been in
vain.

"Then leave me now, boy, and do not make my task harder by speaking like
this again. I have my duty to do towards my country and my home. My
duty to my country is to follow Caius Julius in the great venture he is
about to attempt; my duty to my home and son is to leave you here and
not expose you, at your age, to the horrors of this war."

"But father!" cried the boy, wildly.

"Silence, boy!" said Cracis, firmly. "Obey me. I will hear no more.
Go!"

Marcus' lips parted to make one more appeal, but, as his eyes met his
father's where Cracis stood pointing towards the door, his own fell
again, and feeling mastered, crushed in his despair, he moved slowly
towards the door, his heart seeming to rise to his throat to strangle
him in the intense emotion from which he suffered; but, as soon as he
was outside, his elastic young spirit seemed to spring up again, and he
hurried to his room, to stand there thinking, with the resolve to make
one more strong effort to move his father's determination.

"He does not--he cannot know what I feel," he said to himself with
energy. "I did not half try. I should have thrown myself at his feet
and prayed to him. No, no," said the boy, mournfully, as he felt more
and more the hopelessness of his cause. "It would have been no good.
Father is like iron in his will; he is so strong, I am so weak--He a
great man--I only a poor, feeble boy to be left behind to mind the
house, as if I were a girl! Oh, it's of no use; I must stay--I must
stay!" he half groaned, in his despair. "When perhaps I might help him
so, I and Serge, when he was in the fight, or--oh, if he were wounded!
Suppose he were cut down and bleeding, perhaps dying, and I not there to
help him! Oh, it's of no use to despair; I must--I will go. I know!
I'll appeal to Caius Julius; he will hear me, I feel sure."

Full of enthusiasm once more, he hurried out of his room to seek for the
visitor, who had wrought such a change in their quiet home; but, as he
caught