“Oh yes, I recollect something of it; but it was all wild and confused and strange. I couldn’t see anything clearly.”
“No more could anyone else, boy. We, who do the fighting, never see.”
“Because it was so dark to-night.”
“It would be just the same by day. But, hallo! Where’s your spear?”
“I don’t know,” said Marcus, staring. “Oh, I think I remember, I threw it at a horseman, just before we went crash upon him and the chariot was nearly overturned. But there, don’t ask me. It seemed to be all one wild struggle and noise, and my head’s all whirling now.”
“Well, what did you expect it to be?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Marcus. “But tell me, Serge, have we won?”
“Won? Of course! We Romans always do. This was through our leader’s skill, training against an undisciplined horde of horsemen, twice our number I should think. They are in full retreat, and I expect we shall find they have left half their number upon the field.”
“Hark!” cried Marcus, excitedly. “Here they come again!”
“No, boy; not at a gentle trot like that. Those you hear are the best portion of our horsemen who have been pursuing and scattering the enemy far and wide. Rather exciting all this, my lad, eh?”