“You mustn’t, sir, and you will not,” cried the old soldier, sternly. “Now then, no nonsense; come on.”
“No, no, Serge. Pray, pray take my side. It is to be with my father; can’t you see?”
“No, boy; I’m blind when it comes to orders.”
“Oh, Serge, have you no mercy?” cried Marcus, piteously.
“Not a bit, boy. Now then, once more, come on.”
“I cannot,” cried Marcus, passionately.
“Then I’m going to make you.”
“What!”
“I’m going to carry you, heavy as you’ll be, and long as it will make the road. But I’ve got it to do, and, if it takes me a month, I’m going to make you obey your father’s orders, sir, and stop at home.”
As he spoke Serge swung his shield between his shoulders, pressed his sheathed sword a little more round to his side, and with a sharp dig made his spear stand up in the earth.