“I can’t ask him; I dare not beg him to intercede,” thought Marcus. “He would only jeer at me for being a boy, and put me out of temper again. But I must,” he said. “It is for father’s sake. Yes, I will. Why should I mind? Let him laugh at me if he likes.”
Raising his courage he was on his way to their visitor’s side when Caius Julius turned and caught sight of the approaching boy.
“Ah, Marcus,” he said; “is your father nearly ready to go?”
“Yes,” cried the boy, “but—”
He stopped short, for the words refused to come.
“Well, what were you about to say?” said Julius, frowning.
“Your father is not going to repent?”
“Repent? About me?” cried the boy, excitedly.
“About you, boy? Why should he repent about you?”
“And let me go with him,” cried Marcus, excitedly, as, forgetting all his dislike, he caught his father’s visitor by the robe and spoke eagerly and well. “I want to go with him to the war.”