Marcus laughed, and looked wonderingly at his companion, who now stood up stiffly with his hands resting upon his spear.
“Well, Serge, what now?” cried Marcus.
“Only waiting, captain. Orders to advance.”
“Forward!” cried Marcus; and, the next minute, with eyes eagerly scanning the track in front, they were marching together side by side on the way to Rome.
Chapter Fifteen.
Wearing Armour.
It was some hours afterwards, when the sun was beating down hotly, that Serge suggested that they should have half an hour’s rest in the shade of a clump of huge, spiral-barked chestnuts, whose dark, glossy-green leaves were spread over a bend of the track which had evidently been slightly diverted so that those who followed it might take advantage of the shade.
The trees were approached cautiously, and the pair scouted round the clump to make sure it was untenanted before they stretched themselves amongst the mossy, radiating roots that spread far and wide.