s. Old
veteran, I give you charge as bodyguard of this, my young despatch
bearer. I do not tell you to do your duty, both of you; I only say,
remember Rome. Farewell."

The captain turned quickly away to join a knot of his chiefs who were
anxiously awaiting his return, and the next minute, fixed in their
positions, neither feeling as if he had the power to stir, Marcus and
Serge were alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE FIGHT BEGUN.

Marcus was the first to break the silence.

"Serge," he panted, "isn't he grand!"

"Grand!" cried the old soldier, excitedly. "Grand arn't half big
enough. He's a hero, that's what he is; and only think of me with a
head like the old bull at home. Just as thick and stupid. Why, if he
hadn't been such a great, wise, clever general as he is, he'd have
knocked me down with the hilt of his sword. But it's all right after
all, and look here, boy, you've got to do it."

"We've got to do it, Serge," cried Marcus. "Why, the idea is splendid;
but I say--Lupe?"

"What about him?"

"What are we to do with him?"

"Nothing," said Serge, promptly; "he'll do for himself. Why, if you
made up your mind to leave him behind he'd come."

"I suppose so, Serge. There's no press-house here in which to shut him
up."

"No, and there's no other way of getting rid of him but cutting off his
head," said the old soldier, grimly; "and you wouldn't like to do that."

"Serge!" cried Marcus, taking for the moment his companion's words as
being meant seriously.

"Ah, I thought you wouldn't, boy," said the old fellow, smiling. "He'll
hop into the chariot, of course, and when the way's clear we can let him
down for a run, and do him good. But no more talking; we've got to get
ready."

"No," said Marcus; "we're soldiers, and all ready now. I can see
nothing to do but wait till we see that it is time to go."

"And that isn't far away," said Serge, "for here comes back one of the
captains. Why, Marcus, boy, I feel happy enough to begin to dance.
Just think of it: here we are off on quite a holiday, straight away for
the Roman camp, to get to your father at once, and--Oh, my thick head!
I never thought of that!"

"Thought of what?" said Marcus.

"What we're going to do: both of us going straight to face the lion and
put our heads into his mouth."

"You mean my father?"

"Of course."

"Nonsense! He will have no time to think of punishing us."

"Won't he?" growled Serge. "Trust the