thanks.

"I'd about given it up, Marcus, boy," said Serge just then. "Here, come
along; here's a young captain waiting to show us where to go, and my
word, talk about a piece of luck! I thought I was going to be taken
away, never to see you again, and here we are. A chariot and pair with
our own driver, and me to sit behind you and do nothing but tell you how
to fight. Here, come along. Talk about a piece of luck! How old are
you? Eighteen. Why, you'll be a general at the end of another week!"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE CHARIOTEER.

"I shall never be able to do it, Serge," said Marcus, nervously, as he
stood with his old companion looking admiringly at a pair of
fiery-looking little steeds harnessed to a low chariot just big enough
to afford room for three.

The little pair were being held, stamping and covering their sides with
the foam they champed from their bits, by a short, broad-shouldered,
swarthy driver, who had his work to restrain the impatient little
animals.

They were less in size than what would now be termed cobs, almost
ponies, but beautifully formed, arched-necked and heavily maned and
tailed, a pair that had excited admiration in the boy's eyes as soon as
he saw the chariot to which he had been led. But they were almost wild,
and ready to resent the buffets given by their driver with teeth and
hoofs.

"A chariot to be proud of," Serge had growled in the boy's ear. "Why, a
captain needn't wish for better. I don't know what the master will say
when he sees you."

"Oh, don't talk about the meeting, Serge. I feel so excited," replied
the boy, and then he added the words which head this chapter.

"Never be able to do what?" cried the old soldier.

"Manage the chariot. It seems too much for me."

"Tchah!" cried Serge. "Don't want no managing. You've got your driver
to take you where you tell him right at the enemy, when you get your
orders to advance, and cut them up. You'll stand there in front with
your spear or javelin, and I shall sit behind ready with spare ones for
you to throw when you are amongst the enemy, and stop anyone who tries
to come up behind if he's foolish enough. But I don't hold with
throwing javelins. It wants a lot of practice, and those who have
practised most, when they are going at full gallop, are pretty well sure
to miss. I should like for you to use your spear, and keep it tightly
in your hand. It means closer quarters, but your thrusts are sure