“Send off messenger at once on to the generals in front, telling how you are fixed, and asking for help at once.”
“Hah!” cried the captain. “That is what I was waiting for you to say. Now for the messenger I must send to Julius and Cracis.”
“Someone who knows the country.”
“There is no one,” said the captain, sharply. “Whoever goes must find his way by the traces left by the generals.”
“Yes, that’s right, captain,” said Serge.
“Well, man, whom am I to send?”
“Me!” cried Marcus, excitedly. “I’ll find my father and take your message.”
“You shall, boy,” said the captain, catching Marcus by the arm. “It is what I planned, for I am going to send to Cracis, who will be directing the forces and the arrangements of the campaign, while Caius Julius leads the men. You, boy, have one of the best chariots and the swiftest horses in the force. There is no need for me to write if you tell your father that you come from me. Tell him everything you know, and that I am going to hold out to the last, even if I have to butcher the horses that the men may live. Tell him I am in a perilous strait, and that help must come to save me and give the enemy a lesson that they will not forget.”
“Yes—yes,” cried Marcus; “and I start at once?”
“Not yet, only be quite ready to dash off yonder by the lower track which you can see leading downward through those hills. I say dash off, but only if the enemy make for you. If you are not followed hasten slowly for your horses’ sake. Remember that he who goes softly goes far, and I want sureness more than speed.”