low, clattering sound
was heard.

"Why, you ought to know by now. That's our foot-men joining shields
together to receive the enemy's horse, which must have scattered ours.
They are driven back, and they will come round behind us if I am not
mistaken."

"What, have they run away?" cried Marcus.

"Oh no, boy. Bent back to right and left. They were taken by surprise,
I should say, and gave way. That's the art of war. And now! Hark at
them! The enemy's coming down with a rush upon our infantry to cut them
up and sweep us all away."

"What!" cried Marcus, wildly. "And we in the chariots are ambling on
like this! Oh, if I could only see something besides that line in
front!"

"See with your ears, boy, as I do," growled Serge. "This is the first
bit of real work I have been in for many a year, but it's all going
right. We have got a captain over us who knows what he is about.
There! What did I say? Hear that?"

It was plain enough to hear: a confused rush of galloping hoofs away in
front beyond the line of infantry, another thunder of galloping horses
panting and snorting as they rushed by in the darkness close at hand,
and another body away to Marcus' left, beyond the second half of the
line of chariots. This ceased directly afterwards, and, as the boy
glanced back, he could see a mass of horsemen forming up behind the
cars, while, at the same moment from away in front, there was a terrific
burst of savage yells, answered by shouts of defiance and the clatter of
spears and shields, mingled with a confused clash as the enemy's
horsemen charged home upon the infantry.

Marcus' ears rang with the confusion of sounds which followed--cries of
agony, shouts of triumph, and the trampling of horses, and then a roar,
above which rang out somewhere near at hand the shrill note of a
clarion, whose effect was to make the chariot horses burst into a
gallop.

"Now we are off," shouted Serge into the boy's ear. "Your spear, lad.
Throw when you get a chance; I have another ready for you. But don't
waste your stroke."

Marcus heard, but he did not heed, for his heart was beating violently,
his head swimming with excitement, and he felt half stunned, half
maddened, as he was borne onward, his chariot about the middle of the
little line so close together that, moment by moment, it seemed as if
the wheels of the cars on either side must come into collision.

But the collision was not to be there, for as, excited b