Ch. 5: A Centurion of the Thirtieth - Page 2

turn away?
Here lies the road to Rome.'

She fired into the face of the lull, to wake up the
cowardly wind, and heard a grunt from behind a thorn in
the pasture.

'Oh, my Winkie!' she said aloud, and that was something
she had picked up from Dan. 'I b'lieve I've tickled
up a Gleason cow.'

'You little painted beast!' a voice cried. 'I'll teach you to
sling your masters!'

She looked down most cautiously, and saw a young
man covered with hoopy bronze armour all glowing
among the late broom. But what Una admired beyond all
was his great bronze helmet with a red horse-tail that
flicked in the wind. She could hear the long hairs rasp on
his shimmery shoulder-plates.

'What does the Faun mean,' he said, half aloud to
himself, 'by telling me that the Painted People have
changed?' He caught sight of Una's yellow head. 'Have
you seen a painted lead-slinger?' he called.

'No-o,' said Una. 'But if you've seen a bullet -'

'Seen?' cried the man. 'It passed within a hair's- breadth
of my ear.'

'Well, that was me. I'm most awfully sorry.'

'Didn't the Faun tell you I was coming?' He smiled.

'Not if you mean Puck. I thought you were a Gleason
cow. I - I didn't know you were a - a - What are you?'

He laughed outright, showing a set of splendid teeth.
His face and eyes were dark, and his eyebrows met above
his big nose in one bushy black bar.

'They call me Parnesius. I have been a Centurion of the
Seventh Cohort of the Thirtieth Legion - the Ulpia Victrix.
Did you sling that bullet?'

'I did. I was using Dan's catapult,' said Una.

'Catapults!' said he. 'I ought to know something about
them. Show me!'

He leaped the rough fence with a rattle of spear, shield,
and armour, and hoisted himself into Volaterrae as
quickly as a shadow.

'A sling on a forked stick. I understand!' he cried, and
pulled at the elastic. 'But what wonderful beast yields
this stretching leather?'

'It's laccy - elastic. You put the bullet into that loop,
and then you pull hard.'

The man pulled, and hit himself square on his thumbnail.

'Each to his own weapon,' he said gravely, handing it
back. 'I am better with the bigger machine, little maiden.
But it's a pretty toy. A wolf would laugh at it. Aren't you
afraid of wolves?'

'There aren't any,' said Una.

'Never believe it! A wolf's like a Winged Hat. He comes
when he isn't expected. Don't they hunt wolves here?'

'We don't hunt,'said Una, remembering what she had
heard from grown-ups. 'We preserve - pheasants. Do
you know them?'

'I ought to,' said the young man, smiling again, and he
imitated the cry of the