Marcus: the Young Centurion Part 41
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"Humph!" grunted Serge. "Because that may take us wrong, boy. You see, there's a lot of chance in it, and we must use our brains."
"Of course. That's what I'm trying to do, Serge."
"Don't seem like it, boy. We've got to track the army, haven't we?"
"Yes," cried Marcus, "but they've left no traces."
"Not that we have found as yet, boy, but they must have left some wounded men, or sick, belonging to the army or the enemy. If they're fighting their way, as is most likely, we may be sure that a good many men have fallen."
"Yes, that's reasonable enough, Serge, but we have seen no signs of one."
"Not one," said the old soldier. "So as there have been no traces, we must go by guesswork, mustn't we?"
"Yes, of course," cried Marcus. "Well, you guessed and I guessed, and I think my guess will be the better one."
"I know you do; but I don't, boy."
"Why?"
"Because there's no reason in yours and there is in mine."
"I can't see that," said Marcus, stubbornly. "Show me how your way can be better than mine."
"That's soon done, boy," said Serge. "Caius Julius will have a big army with him, won't he?"
"Yes, of course; a very large one."
"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."
"No, there mustn't, and there arn't, without you go a long journey round, and that a general is not likely to do. Pa.s.ses through the mountains are a long way apart; and besides, of course our new captain knew the way that Caius Julius was going, and this is the way he meant to follow if he had come on."
"Are you sure?" said the boy, doubtingly.
"Certain, my lad, or I wouldn't go this way."
Serge had struck for the right, and he proved to be right indeed, for before an hour had pa.s.sed the adventurers had good proof, the old soldier suddenly giving vent to a grunt of satisfaction.
"What is it, Serge?" cried Marcus, eagerly, seeing that the old man was smiling.
"I'm right," he said.
"What! Can you see anything?"
"Yes; look yonder, boy."
Marcus gazed in the direction the old man pointed, carefully scanning the distance, but seeing nothing save the undulating stony plain with here and there a stunted tree, and in one part a depression like an old river bed.
"Well," he said; at last; "I can see nothing."
"Not looking right," said Serge.
"I've looked right and left, and down that hollow too," said Marcus.
"That's what I say. You haven't looked right up. Look up."
"Up?" cried Marcus, who felt puzzled. "I do wish you would speak.
There is nothing to see there but those crows circling slowly round and round."
"That's right," grunted Serge; "you have seen what I mean."
"What, the crows?"
Serge grunted, and Marcus stared.
"I don't know a bit what you mean," said Marcus, irritably. "Don't, pray don't, waste time."
"I'm not wasting time. I say we're on the right track, boy. Look at the crows."
"What for?" cried Marcus, angrily.
"What for?" growled Serge. "S'pose you and me was at home and were out among the pastures and up the lowest slopes of the mountains where we drive the goats."
"Well, what then?" cried Marcus, impatiently.
"And suppose we saw crows flying round and round. What would you say then?"
"That there was a dead lamb or a kid lying somewhere about, or that the wolves had been down and killed a sheep."
"Well?" said Serge, with a dry look on his wrinkled face.
Marcus was silent for a few moments, and then, "Oh, Serge," he cried, with a look of horror, "you don't think--"
Marcus: the Young Centurion Part 41
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Marcus: the Young Centurion Part 41 summary
You're reading Marcus: the Young Centurion Part 41. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 591 views.
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