my word!"

"But I am not going back, Serge," cried the boy, firmly. "I am going to
join my father."

"You are not going to join your father," said the old soldier, sturdily.
"You've run away like one of them village ragged-jacks, and I am
ashamed of you, that's what I am. But 'shamed or no 'shamed, I've
catched you and I am going to take you back."

"No!" cried Marcus, fiercely.

"Nay, boy, it's yes, so make no more bones about it."

"I am going to join my father, sir, and answer to him, not to his
servant."

"You are going back home to your books and to take care of your father's
house."

"And suppose I refuse?" cried Marcus.

"Won't make a bit of difference, boy, for I shall make you."

"Indeed!" cried Marcus.

"Now then, none of that! None of your ruffling up like a young cockerel
and sticking your hackles out because you think your spurs have grown,
when you are not much more than fledged, because that won't do with me.
I tell you this: you come easy and it will be all the better for you,
for if you behave well perhaps I won't tell the master, after all. So
make up your mind to be a good boy at once."

"A good boy!" cried Marcus, scornfully. "Why, you called me a brave
young warrior just now."

"Yes, I am rather an old fool sometimes," growled Serge; "but you
needn't pitch that in my teeth. Now then, no more words, and let's
waste no more time. I want to get back."

"But Serge--" cried the boy.

"That'll do. You know what your father said, and you've got to obey
him, or I shall make you. Aren't you sorry for doing wrong?"

"Yes--no," cried Marcus.

"Yes--no? What do you mean by that, sir?"

"I don't know," cried Marcus, desperately. "Look here, Serge: it is too
late now. I've taken this step, and I must go on and join my father
now."

"Taken this step? Yes, of course you have," cried the old soldier,
sarcastically, "and a nice step it is! What's it led to? Your having
to take a lot more steps back again. I know; but you didn't, being such
a young callow bit of a fellow. Soon as you do anything wrong you have
to do a lot more bad things to cover it up. Lucky for you I catched
you; so now then, come on."

"But Serge," cried Marcus, passionately, "you can't understand how I
felt--how it seemed as if I must go after my father, to be with him in
case he wanted help. He might be wounded, you know."

"Well, if he is there'll be plenty to help him. Soldiers are always
comrade