one or
the other of the little fish that glided about within the depths might
dart at them and apply its lips in the belief that something was offered
to it fit for food.

Caius Julius rose up slowly as he heard the heavy tramp of his friend's
armoured feet upon the paved floor, and took in his appearance with a
smile of satisfaction.

"You are ready, then?" he said.

"Yes," was the laconic reply.

"Then nothing remains but for you to take your farewell of my brave
young friend, your defender when I ventured to try his faith."

"That is done," said Cracis, gravely; "and as Rome awaits my coming,
lead the way."

"But I have not said my valediction to your son, Cracis, and it is this:
Wait, Marcus, my brave boy. Some day perhaps I may come to you as I
have come to your father to ask your help. Better still, send him, full
of the honours he has won, to bring his son to Rome. Till then,
farewell."

Marcus felt the touch of their visitor's hands and heard his words, but
he could not speak, only stand side by side with Serge, who looked older
and more bent than when he first learned the truth that he was to stay
behind; but the boy had no thought at the moment but of the father who
was going away to face peril as well as to strike for glory and his
country's welfare.

He could only follow the pair of Rome's great men as, side by side, they
passed out of the open court where the fountain played and the water
that sparkled like diamonds in the bright sunshine fell back into the
basin with a musical splashing sound.

A minute later and Cracis with his companion passed out through the
porched entry into the tree-shaded road, the grave, white-robed leader
and the well-armed general with his shield, which flashed and turned off
a shower of keen darts which came from on high, as he turned once to
wave his hand to his son.

At that moment there was a low, deep bay, and the great wolf-dog, which
had caught sight of his master, bounded from the shadow where he had
crouched to avoid the flies, and, seeing the two strangers, as they
seemed to him, he leaped forward, but crouched at his master's feet as
he recognised his face and voice.

"Good dog!" cried Cracis. "No, go back and guard all here till I
return."

If the dog did not grasp the words, he did the tone and gesture,
replying by throwing up his muzzle and giving vent to a piteous howl
full of protest, as he turned and walked slowly back to join Marcus and
Ser