the extraction of
the vehicle, which, though splintered and battered, was not much the
worse for the accident, and was soon dragged out from where it had been
wedged close to the spot where the horses, now quit calmed, had settled
down to browse upon the grass, which grew in abundance outside the clump
of trees.

It was the harness which had fared the worst, but the driver and Serge
were both pretty handy, and by the time the day dawned tying and lacing
had done their work, so that, excepting appearance, the ropes, straps
and thongs were as good as ever, and, tired and anxious, Marcus hurried
his companions into the chariot to start for the camp.

Guessing at the direction where the slope led, they had just started
when they were encountered by a minor officer at the head of a party of
men, who looked hard at them and accosted them with:

"Have you seen anything of an overturned chariot in a clump of trees?"

"Yes," said Marcus, smiling.

"Which way?" cried the officer, who looked surprised at Marcus' way of
receiving the question.

"Straight down that slope," said Marcus. "You can almost see the trees
from here."

The officer nodded his thanks and was turning away, but Marcus stopped
him by saying:

"The chariot is not there now."

"Not there?"

"No; this is it."

"Ah!" cried the officer, eagerly. "Then you are the youth and this is
the man I want."

"What for?" asked Marcus, flushing slightly.

"Oh, you'll know soon enough. My chief has sent me to find you. It is
for something that took place in the fight last night."

"Something that took place in the fight last night?" faltered Marcus,
wearily. "But tell me, did the Romans win the battle?"

"Oh, yes, of course; but don't stop to talk. I must make haste back.
You haven't been murdering and plundering the people, have you?"

"No, of course not," cried Marcus, sharply.

"So much the better for you," said the officer, shortly. "Come along."

He gave orders to some of his men to form up behind the chariot, and
with the rest he placed himself in front, and gave the order to march,
leading off at once to the left of the route in which the chariot had
been moving when it was stopped.

"Why, anyone would think that we were prisoners," said Marcus, who felt
annoyed, but, satisfied that they were being taken to the camp, he
thought of his message and was content. He, however, reached over the
front of the chariot and called to the young officer