Marcus: the Young Centurion | Page 6

the six boys backing to the far side, beyond the great stone hewn-out press, empty now, dry and clean, for the time of grape harvest was not yet.
"Now then, my fine fellows," growled Serge; "you want to fight, do you?"
"We want to go," half whimpered the one who acted as spokesman.
"Oh, yes, you want to go," said the old soldier; "of course. Well, you shall go soon, but you wanted to fight young Marcus here, and you didn't play fair."
"Never touched him till he came at us," cried another.
"So I suppose," said Serge. "Very hard on you! Six nice boys! Interfered, did he, when you were breaking down the vines and stealing the grapes?"
"They warn't ripe," whimpered another.
"Then they ought to have been, seeing that you wanted them," cried Serge, indignantly, while Marcus laughed. "But as they weren't ripe, of course, it made you cross, and you began to fight young Marcus here."
None of the boys spoke, but gazed longingly at the door.
"Ah! You see it ain't fastened inside," said Serge, mockingly; "but it is fastened outside with dog's teeth. I wouldn't advise you to try to get out, because our dog, Lupus, doesn't like boys, and he's hungry. Nothing he'd like better than to eat such a chap as one of you. But you know that, and you wouldn't have come, only you'd seen me go off to the forest with him to herd up the young swine. Didn't know that we should be back so soon. You see, the young swine were just at the edge."
"You'd better not touch us, old Serge," cried the biggest lad, in a whining tone. "You touch me and see if my father don't mark you!"
"I'm not going to touch you, boy," replied the herdsman. "I've done all I wanted to you for breaking down my grape poles that I cut and set up. I've got you here because you wanted to fight."
"I don't want to fight," cried the youngest of the party. "You'd better let us go."
"Yes, I'm going to as soon as you've fought young Marcus and beat him as you meant to."
"We don't want to fight," half sobbed another. "We want to go home."
"I don't believe it," growled Serge. "You want to whip young Marcus, and I'm going to see you do it; only old Lupe, our dog, and me's going to see fair."
"No, you ain't!" came in chorus. "You've got to call that dog off and let us go."
"Yes, when you've done," said the old soldier, with a grin. "Who's going to be the first to begin? For it's going to be a fair fight, not six all at once upon one. Now then, anyhow you like, only one at a time. What, you won't speak? They're nice boys, Marcus, my lad, so modest they don't like to step before one another; so you'll have to choose for yourself. Just which you like, but I should go or that big fellow first."
"I don't want to fight," whined the lad indicated, and he backed in among his companions and placed himself as far behind them as he could.
"Oh, come! This is wasting time. There, go and fetch him out into the middle, Marcus, my lad--or no, I'll do it."
CHAPTER THREE.
AN OLD-FASHIONED FIGHT.
Serge had been standing leaning over his crook, but now, taking it in both hands and holding it before him, he stepped quickly towards the big lad, who backed more and more away; but his effort to escape was in vain, for, quick as thought, Serge brought down his crook as if to strike the lad a violent blow, making him wince and bound aside, when, before he knew what was happening, he was hooked by the leg like an obstinate swine, and dragged, yelling and calling for help, out into the middle of the stone shed.
"Got you," said Serge, coolly. "There, it's no use to kick. Here, you other boys, close up and see fair."
Satisfied at once that they were outside the trouble, the other lads began to grin, and, obeying the old soldier, they closed in together, whispering to their companion who had just been hauled out, as they believed, to bear the brunt of the expected punishment.
Their whispers were ill received by the selected victim, who, as soon as his leg was released from the crook, made as if to back away again; but his companions put a stop to this and began urging him on, trying to incite him to begin, he reluctant and resisting all the time, till his ire was roused by Marcus, who, at a word from the old soldier, dashed in to make a beginning, using his fists upon his enemy so well that, at the end of two or three minutes, the latter threw himself down, howling dismally and covering