nough, but free from any great impediments.
Then away and away as hard as they could go, while the more active of
those who were not hurt, recovering themselves a little from the shock
and scare, came after the charioteers in chase with levelled spears.

"Splendid, Marcus, boy!" cried Serge. "Bah! You need not look back;
they'll give up running directly. You did not think they would catch us
up?"

"No," replied Marcus, breathing hard, "but stop! Stop! Lupe is
fighting with them, and they'll spear him if we don't go to his help."

"Eh? Go back, boy? To certain death!" cried the old soldier, fiercely.
"It couldn't be done if it was to save the finest dog in the world."

"Oh, Serge!" cried Marcus, wildly.

"The message to Julius and your father, boy. We must not think of
either ourselves or the dog at a time like this."

"You are right, Serge," said Marcus, bitterly. "But poor old Lupe!" he
continued, as he held on to the side of the chariot with his left hand
and gazed back. "He'll kill no more wolves when they come down from the
mountains over the wintry snow."

"Why not?" growled Serge.

"Because the enemy are spearing him."

"I haven't heard him yelp," cried the old soldier, "but I can hear
somebody shouting as if Lupe was spearing him."

"Do you think so?" cried Marcus.

"Ay, that I do, boy. It wouldn't be an easy job to stick a long-handled
spear into old Lupe when he is bounding about attacking legs, and
waiting his chance to tackle throats. Like as not we shall find him
coming after us, scratched and bleeding perhaps, but not hurt more than
I can doctor him and set him right again, same as I've done more than
once when he has had a turn with the wolves."

"Ah, look, look!" shouted Marcus, joyously. "Why, here he comes!"

For all at once Lupe, who had been lost to sight, hidden as he was by
those of the enemy who had not taken up the pursuit, and who had
resented the dog's attacks by endeavouring to pin him to the earth with
their long spears, now dashed into sight, proving that he was uninjured
by the bounds and springs he kept on making, barking furiously the while
at those who were keeping up their pursuit of the chariot, but whose
attention was now diverted so that they turned the points of their
spears to repulse the dog's attack.

"Yah! Just like him!" cried Serge, angrily. "You ugly old idiot, you!
Whether it's men or wolves, you always would have the last bite. Come
away, stu