“And enough to make me, boy, seeing how our people have been surrounded and followed. I thought we were getting on too fast.”
“But look here,” said Marcus, excitedly, “I don’t like to turn back without making sure. Let me go on alone and see if you are right.”
“Well,” said Serge, slowly, “it would be best, for then—No, I can’t let you do that, boy. We’ll stay here for a while till it grows darker, and then, go on together, creeping amongst the bushes to see what we can make out, and then come back to the chariot.”
“Why not make a brave dash forward?” said Marcus.
Serge shook his head.
“It would be too rash,” he said. “We’ll take the horses into yon clump of trees, where they can stand well hidden and it will be easy to find when we come back.”
“Serge, we shall never find it again in the darkness. Better keep with it,” whispered Marcus, excitedly.
“Well, maybe you are right, boy. Lead on, then, my man, as silently as you can. This way.”
Serge stepped in front, and with the darkness closing in fast the ponies were led forward some twenty yards and then out of the clear open space in amongst the dark patch of young growth, and the chariot was hardly hidden from the sight of anyone who might be passing along the track they were following, before Lupe uttered a low warning growl.
Marcus bent over the dog and seized him by the muzzle to keep his jaws closed, and the dog crouched down, while directly after there came the heavy tramp of advancing men, following their path exactly, and very dimly-seen from where the adventurers lay perdu a body of men, who, from the time they took in passing, must have numbered two or three thousand, came by, the dull sound of their footsteps dying out suddenly when they were some little distance away.