“With plenty of mounted soldiers and chariots.”
“Yes,” said Marcus.
“Well, would he pick out the roughest part of the country all among the rocks, like you have, or the lower and more even way like mine?”
“You are right and I’m wrong, Serge,” cried Marcus, frankly. “Let’s go your way.”
The old soldier nodded, the order was given, and the driver turned his horses’ heads more to the right; but before they had gone far Marcus caught his companion by the arm.
“But suppose, Serge, that the army did not come this way at all? We do not know that it did.”
“How’s that?” asked the old soldier.
“Why, it might have gone by some other way.”
“Which?” growled Serge.
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied the boy. “There must be plenty of ways through the mountains by which an army could go.”