“Is this the way that you obey a master who has always been true to you in his dealings?”
“It’s all bad, master,” replied the man, “and I tried hard to do my duty, and so I brought the old armour and our swords, and something seemed to make me keep everything clean and bright, ready if it should be wanted.”
“It never could be wanted by one who was rejected, humbled and disgraced as I was, man. You knew all that took place, and saw me cast down from my position.”
“Yes, master, and my heart bled for you. That’s why I came.”
“Yes,” said Cracis, more gently, “and in my heart, Serge, I thank you for your fidelity; but my orders were that all traces of our old position in the Roman army should be destroyed.”
“Yes, master,” said the man, humbly, “but they wouldn’t destroy. I only kept them, and cleaned them up now and then when no one was looking; but you know what young Marcus is: he found me out.”
“Yes, father,” cried Marcus, excitedly; “don’t blame Serge. I made him talk to me about the past, and he was obliged to tell me all about you being such a great friend of Caesar, and how, at last, you went against him and he—There, I won’t say any more, father, because I can see from your face how it hurts you; but I got to know everything, and, when you were busy reading and writing of an evening, I used to come and sit by the fire in the winter’s nights and make him tell me about the wars and what a great general you were; and so, from always loving to hear about rights, I loved to hear of the wars and conquests more and more, and—”
“Go on, my son, and keep nothing. I must hear everything now.”
“Yes, father; I want to be frank. It was all my doing, for I persuaded and then I ordered Serge to get me sword and armour, and made the armourer alter a man’s breast-plate and helmet to fit me, and—and paid for it all by degrees; and then I made Serge teach me how to wear the armour and use the sword and spear and shield; and it was all like that, father.”
“And he has taught you all this?” said Cracis, sternly.