home
like a good boy now?"

"No," cried Marcus, fiercely. "I am going on to my father. I will not
stir a step backward now."

"What!" cried Serge, as fiercely now, for the old man was roused by the
boy's obstinacy. "You won't obey?"

"No," cried Marcus, catching his companion by the top of his breast
armour. "It's my turn now. Look here, sir; you talk about my father's
commands."

"Yes, boy, I do," roared the old soldier, looking as fierce now as one
of the campagna bulls, whose bellow he seemed to emulate, "and I'll make
you obey them too."

"Commands--obey--when I'm only going to join him?"

"Yes, that's it, my lad. So now then!"

"Yes," cried Marcus, giving his companion a fierce thrust which forced
him a little back so that he caught his heels against a projecting
stone, and as he tried to recover himself was brought down by Marcus
upon his knees. "Hah!" he cried. "I've got you! What have you got to
say about my father's orders? What are you doing here?"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

COMING TO TERMS.

Serge was in the act of gathering himself together so as to spring up
and catch his prisoner by the arms, but, as the boy questioned him
sharply he sank a little lower upon his knees, and, as if all the
strength had been suddenly discharged from within him, he said in quite
a different tone of voice:

"What am I doing here?"

"Yes, sir," cried Marcus, forcing him a little more back, and fixing him
with his eyes, "what are _you_ doing here?"

"Well, I--er--I--I'm here to take you back."

"You old shuffler!" cried Marcus, in a rage. "I can see through you.
My father's orders, indeed! What were his orders to _you_, sir?
Weren't they to stop and take care of his house and belongings, and of
me?"

"Well, they was something like that," growled the man, softly; "but
don't drive your knuckles into my throat like that, my lad. You hurt."

"Hurt! Yes, and you deserve it," cried Marcus, growing stronger in his
attack upon the old servant as the latter grew more confused and weak.
"So this is the way you obey my father's commands. You took upon
yourself to go into his room and help yourself to the armour you have
on. Confess, you did; didn't you?"

"Well, if it comes to that, Master Marcus," grumbled the man, "it was my
armour, and wouldn't fit no one else."

"That's shuffling again, Serge, and it's no good. You took the armour,
unknown to my father?"

"Course I did, my lad," cried the man, re