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Updated: May 26, 2025
Cracis looked wildly at his brother in arms, and then slowly turned his eyes upon his son eyes that had flashed but a short time before, but which now softened into a look of loving pride, as he slowly sank back insensible upon his rough pillow, Marcus darting to his side.
"He sent you, boy?" cried Cracis, quickly. "Yes, father," replied Marcus, "and I was to say that at all cost he would hold out till help was sent." "Help shall be sent at once," said Cracis, firmly; "or better still, Julius," he continued, "our work being so far completed, with yesterday's victory, we will march to his help ourselves."
Take off those unseemly weapons, which are far from suited for my student son. Let this be done at once, Serge. You, Marcus, will follow me to my room, and be there an hour hence. I have much to say to you, my boy, very much to say." Cracis turned thoughtfully away, leaving his son with the old soldier, for them to gaze sadly at one another as the slow steps of the father and master died away.
"But you don't know, master, how you may be surrounded by enemies ready to strike at you." "No," said Cracis, firmly, and there was a ring of command in his tones. "Neither do I know how closely my boy may be hemmed in, and I want to leave here with the peaceful feeling that, whatever happens, my son has one beside him that I can always trust.
"Indeed," replied the visitor. "Only a few minutes ago I was telling your boy how that once we were the greatest of friends. Did I not?" he said quickly, turning to Marcus. "Yes, father, that is right," cried Marcus. "He praised you very highly at first, and said he was your friend." "My friend!" said Cracis, bitterly. "My greatest enemy, he meant." "I was, Cracis, in the past.
Whom am I to leave in charge of my home? Who is to protect my son if I take you with me?" "Home Son?" faltered Serge. "But you, master who is to protect you if your old follower is left behind?" "I must protect myself, Serge," said Cracis, and his voice lost for the moment the hard, firm sternness of the soldier. "Your duty is here, Serge, and I look to you to carry it out.
"Cracis, after much thought and battling with my pride, the pride that has come with the position to which I have climbed, I have mastered self so as to come humbly to my oldest and best friend." "Why?" said Cracis. "Because you are the only man I know whose counsel I can respect, and in whom I could fully trust."
You want to ask me something before I go?" These words stirred the boy into action, and he started to his father's side; but, though his lips parted, no words came. "The time is gliding away, Marcus, my boy," said Cracis, sadly. "Come, speak out. You want to ask some favour before I go?" "Yes, father, but after what you have said I hardly dare," cried the boy, hoarsely.
These final preparations made, Cracis stood, grave and thoughtful, asking himself whether there was anything more he wished to do, anything in the way of orders to give his servant and his son before he left his home. "Leave me now, Marcus," he said. "I wish to be alone for a while. Well," he continued, as the boy stood frowning and looking at him wistfully, "why do you stay?
Cracis looked up, wonderingly, and seemed to be obliged to drag his attention from the book, smiling pleasantly in the flushed face of his son, and with every trace of anger missing from his own. "Well, boy," he said, gently, "what is it? Something you can't make out?" "Yes, father old Serge." "Ah, Serge!" said Cracis, with his brow clouding over.
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