"Hah!" cried the captain, as he looked critically at Marcus, examining
him from top to toe, whilst, as if for no reason whatever, he slowly
drew his sword, while Marcus, who stood spear in hand and shield before
him, in the attitude he had been taught by Serge, quivered beneath the
captain's searching eye.

"Trained him yourself, have you?"

"Yes, captain--well."

"He can use his weapons?"

"Yes, captain."

To the astonishment of both Serge and Marcus, and as if without the
slightest reason, the big, burly, war-like captain made one step forward
and with it like lightning he struck a blow with his sword right at the
comb of Marcus' helmet, such a one as would have, had it been intended,
brought the boy to his knees.

But Serge had spoken truth when he said that he trained Marcus well,
for, quicker in his action than the deliverer of the blow, Marcus had
thrown up his shield-bearing left arm, there was a loud clang upon its
metal guards as he received the sword blow, and, the next moment, the
captain drew back as sharply as he had advanced, to avoid the boy's
short spear, directed at his throat.

"Good!" he cried. "Well done, boy!" And he began to sheath his sword.
"Your teacher, an old hand, no doubt, could not have done better. Why,
boy," he continued, "you are a soldier, every inch," and he grasped the
lad by both arms. "But this won't do; you must lay on muscle here, and
thicken and deepen in the chest. That helmet's too heavy for you too.
Yes, you are quite a boy--a brave one, no doubt, and well-trained; but
you are too young and slight to stand the hardships of a rough campaign.
I should like to take you, but I want men--strong men like your
companion here--and I should be wronging your parents if I took you.
Whose son are you, boy?"

"My father is Cracis, sir, a friend of Caius Julius, and he is at the
front."

"Ha!" cried the officer, looking at him searchingly. "Then why are you
at the rear?"

Marcus' spirits had been rising again, and his eyes were sparkling, lit
up as they were by hope; but at that question down they went directly to
the lowest point.

He tried hard to look firmly in the captain's face, but his eyes would
blench. He tried to speak, but he could not answer, and he stood
quivering in every nerve, shamefaced and humbled, while his trouble
increased and he turned his eyes upon Serge, looking appealingly at him
for help, as the big officer suddenly exclaimed, as he caught h