“No, father,” cried Marcus, quickly; “I did not know that Serge had gone.”
“Ah!” said Cracis, quickly. “What excuse have you to make, sir, for deserting your post?”
“I didn’t, master,” cried the old soldier, stoutly. “I didn’t desert my post. My post was where I was last night, at my master’s side. It was my post that deserted me.”
“What!” cried Cracis, angrily. “Insolent!”
“Nay, master,” cried the old soldier; “I’m as humble as young Marcus there, and I’d kneel down just the same as he’s a-doing now, but them Gauls knocked me about so in the fight that my legs won’t bend. Look here, master; I couldn’t help it. I was just like the boy there; I felt somehow that you’d want your old follower’s help, and I was obliged to come and join you. You see, we came together, and reached you just in time.”
“You disobeyed my commands, Serge,” said Cracis, speaking as if deaf to his old follower’s appealing words. “You too, my son; but the words of both tell of the repentance in your breasts. Prove, then, by your next acts that you are willing to make amends. Silence! Do not speak, but act. The horrors and bloodshed of this campaign are not for my son and servant. You, Serge, do your duty as guardian—you, Marcus, yours, in obedience at once. Back home at once, and I will forgive.”
“And leave you now, father, wounded, amidst all these perils?” cried Marcus, wildly. “I cannot! I would sooner die!”
Cracis started angrily to his feet and tore the bandage from his head, as at that moment two officers advanced as if to receive commands.
“You hear me, Marcus?” he cried, sternly. “You hear me, Serge?”
“Yes, master,” said the old soldier, slowly, and making an effort with his bruised and stiffened limb, he slowly passed his hand across to his left side and drew his short, heavy sword, passed the hilt into his left so that he could clasp the blade with his right, and in that way held it out to Cracis as he went on speaking: “I disobeyed you once, master, and that’s enough for a Roman soldier. Take hold. I’ve kept it as sharp as it was in the old days when I followed you to victory, ready to die for you, master, as I am this day, for I can’t live to disobey you again. Take it, I say, master, and let me die at once; better that you should cut me down than that I should myself fall upon my sword, for that has always seemed to me a coward’s death.”