CHAPTER XIII
About three
o'clock, speaking in modern style, the program was concluded except the
chariot-race. The editor, wisely considerate of the comfort of the people,
chose that time for a recess. At once the vomitoria were thrown open, and all
who could hastened to the portico outside where the restaurateurs had their
quarters. Those who remained yawned, talked, gossiped, consulted their tablets,
and, all distinctions else forgotten, merged into but two classes - the
winners, who were happy, and the losers, who were grum and captious.
Now, however, a
third class of spectators, composed of citizens who desired only to witness the
chariot-race, availed themselves of the recess to come in and take their
reserved seats; by so doing they thought to attract the least attention and
give the least offence. Among these were Simonides and his party, whose places
were in the vicinity of the main entrance on the north side, opposite the
consul.
As the four stout
servants carried the merchant in his chair up the aisle, curiosity was much
excited. Presently some one called his name. Those about caught it and passed
it on along the benches to the west; and there was hurried climbing on seats to
get sight of the man about whom common report had coined and put in circulation
a romance so mixed of good fortune and bad that the like had never been known
or heard of before.
Ilderim was also
recognized and warmly greeted; but nobody knew Balthasar or the two women who
followed him closely veiled.
The people made
way for the party respectfully, and the ushers seated them in easy speaking
distance of each other down by the balustrade overlooking the arena. In
providence of comfort, they sat upon cushions and had stools for footrests.
The women were
Iras and Esther.
Upon being
seated, the latter cast a frightened look over the Circus, and drew the veil
closer about her face; while the Egyptian, letting her veil fall upon her
shoulders, gave herself to view, and gazed at the scene with the seeming
unconsciousness of being stared at, which, in a woman, is usually the result of
long social habitude.
The new-comers
generally were yet making their first examination of the great spectacle,
beginning with the consul and his attendants, when some workmen ran in and
commenced to stretch a chalked rope across the arena from balcony to balcony in
front of the pillars of the first goal.
About the same
time, also, six men came in through the Porta Pompae and took post, one in
front of each occupied stall; whereat there was a prolonged hum of voices in
every quarter.
"See, see!
The green goes to number four on the right; the Athenian is there."
"And Messala
- yes, he is in number two."
"The
Corinthian -”
"Watch the
white! See, he crosses over, he stops; number one it is - number one on the
left."
"No, the
black stops there, and the white at number two."
"So it
is."
These
gate-keepers, it should be understood, were dressed in tunics colored like
those of the competing charioteers; so, when they took their stations,
everybody knew the particular stall in which his favorite was that moment
waiting.
"Did you ever
see Messala?" the Egyptian asked Esther.
The Jewess
shuddered as she answered no. If not her father's enemy, the Roman was
Ben-Hur's.
"He is
beautiful as Apollo."
As Iras spoke,
her large eyes brightened and she shook her jeweled fan. Esther looked at her
with the thought, "Is he, then, so much handsomer than Ben-Hur?" Next
moment she heard Ilderim say to her father, "Yes, his stall is number two
on the left of the Porta Pompae;" and, thinking it was of Ben-Hur he
spoke, her eyes turned that way. Taking but the briefest glance at the wattled
face of the gate, she drew the veil close and muttered a little prayer.
Presently
Sanballat came to the party.
"I am just
from the stalls, O sheik," he said, bowing gravely to Ilderim, who began
combing his beard, while his eyes glittered with eager inquiry. "The
horses are in perfect condition."
Ilderim replied
simply, "If they are beaten, I pray it be by some other than
Messala."
Turning then to
Simonides, Sanballat drew out a tablet, saying, "I bring you also
something of interest. I reported, you will remember, the wager concluded with
Messala last night, and stated that I left another which, if taken, was to be
delivered to me in writing to-day before the race began. Here it is."
Simonides took
the tablet and read the memorandum carefully.
"Yes,"
he said, "their emissary came to ask me if you had so much money with me.
Keep the tablet close. If you lose, you know where to come; if you win" -
his face knit hard -”if you win - ah, friend, see to it! See the signers escape
not; hold them to the last shekel. That is what they would with us."
"Trust
me," replied the purveyor.
"Will you
not sit with us?" asked Simonides.
"You are
very good," the other returned; "but if I leave the consul, young
Rome yonder will boil over. Peace to you; peace to all."
At length the
recess came to an end.
The trumpeters
blew a call at which the absentees rushed back to their places. At the same
time, some attendants appeared in the arena, and, climbing upon the division
wall, went to an entablature near the second goal at the west end, and placed
upon it seven wooden balls; then returning to the first goal, upon an
entablature there they set up seven other pieces of wood hewn to represent
dolphins.
"What shall
they do with the balls and fishes, O sheik?" asked Balthasar.
"Hast thou
never attended a race?"
"Never
before; and hardly know I why I am here."
"Well, they
are to keep the count. At the end of each round run thou shalt see one ball and
one fish taken down."
The preparations
were now complete, and presently a trumpeter in gaudy uniform arose by the
editor, ready to blow the signal of commencement promptly at his order.
Straightway the stir of the people and the hum of their conversation died away.
Every face near-by, and every face in the lessening perspective, turned to the
east, as all eyes settled upon the gates of the six stalls which shut in the
competitors.
The unusual flush
upon his face gave proof that even Simonides had caught the universal
excitement. Ilderim pulled his beard fast and furious.
"Look now
for the Roman," said the fair Egyptian to Esther, who did not hear her,
for, with close-drawn veil and beating heart, she sat watching for Ben-Hur.
The structure
containing the stalls, it should be observed, was in form of the segment of a
circle, retired on the right so that its central point was projected forward,
and midway the course, on the starting side of the first goal. Every stall,
consequently, was equally distant from the starting-line or chalked rope above
mentioned.
The trumpet
sounded short and sharp; whereupon the starters, one for each chariot, leaped
down from behind the pillars of the goal, ready to give assistance if any of
the fours proved unmanageable.
Again the trumpet
blew, and simultaneously the gate-keepers threw the stalls open.
First appeared
the mounted attendants of the charioteers, five in all, Ben-Hur having rejected
the service. The chalked line was lowered to let them pass, then raised again.
They were beautifully mounted, yet scarcely observed as they rode forward; for
all the time the trampling of eager horses, and the voices of drivers scarcely
less eager, were heard behind in the stalls, so that one might not look away an
instant from the gaping doors.
The chalked line
up again, the gate-keepers called their men; instantly the ushers on the
balcony waved their hands, and shouted with all their strength, "Down!
down!"
As well have
whistled to stay a storm.
Forth from each
stall, like missiles in a volley from so many great guns, rushed the six fours;
and up the vast assemblage arose, electrified and irrepressible, and, leaping
upon the benches, filled the Circus and the air above it with yells and
screams. This was the time for which they had so patiently waited! - this the
moment of supreme interest treasured up in talk and dreams since the
proclamation of the games!
"He is come
- there - look!" cried Iras, pointing to Messala.
"I see
him," answered Esther, looking at Ben-Hur.
The veil was
withdrawn. For an instant the little Jewess was brave. An idea of the joy there
is in doing an heroic deed under the eyes of a multitude came to her, and she
understood ever after how, at such times, the souls of men, in the frenzy of
performance, laugh at death or forget it utterly.
The competitors
were now under view from nearly every part of the Circus, yet the race was not
begun; they had first to make the chalked line successfully.
The line was
stretched for the purpose of equalizing the start. If it were dashed upon,
discomfiture of man and horses might be apprehended; on the other hand, to
approach it timidly was to incur the hazard of being thrown behind in the
beginning of the race; and that was certain forfeit of the great advantage
always striven for - the position next the division wall on the inner line of
the course.
This trial, its
perils and consequences, the spectators knew thoroughly; and if the opinion of
old Nestor, uttered that time he handed the reins to his son, were true -
"It is not
strength, but art, obtained the prize,
And to be swift is
less than to be wise" -
all on the benches might well look for warning of the winner to be now
given, justifying the interest with which they breathlessly watched for the
result.
The arena swam in
a dazzle of light; yet each driver looked first thing for the rope, then for
the coveted inner line. So, all six aiming at the same point and speeding
furiously, a collision seemed inevitable; nor that merely. What if the editor,
at the last moment, dissatisfied with the start, should withhold the signal to
drop the rope? Or if he should not give it in time?
The crossing was
about two hundred and fifty feet in width. Quick the eye, steady the hand,
unerring the judgment required. If now one look away! or his mind wander! or a
rein slip! And what attraction in the ensemble of the thousands over the
spreading balcony! Calculating upon the natural impulse to give one glance -
just one - in sooth of curiosity or vanity, malice might be there with an
artifice; while friendship and love, did they serve the same result, might be
as deadly as malice.
The divine last
touch in perfecting the beautiful is animation. Can we accept the saying, then
these latter days, so tame in pastime and dull in sports, have scarcely
anything to compare to the spectacle offered by the six contestants. Let the
reader try to fancy it; let him first look down upon the arena, and see it
glistening in its frame of dull-gray granite walls; let him then, in this
perfect field, see the chariots, light of wheel, very graceful, and ornate as
paint and burnishing can make them - Messala's rich with ivory and gold; let
him see the drivers, erect and statuesque, undisturbed by the motion of the
cars, their limbs naked, and fresh and ruddy with the healthful polish of the baths
- in their right hands goads, suggestive of torture dreadful to the thought -
in their left hands, held in careful separation, and high, that they may not
interfere with view of the steeds, the reins passing taut from the fore ends of
the carriage-poles; let him see the fours, chosen for beauty as well as speed;
let him see them in magnificent action, their masters not more conscious of the
situation and all that is asked and hoped from them - their heads tossing,
nostrils in play, now distent, now contracted - limbs too dainty for the sand
which they touch but to spurn - limbs slender, yet with impact crushing as
hammers - every muscle of the rounded bodies instinct with glorious life,
swelling, diminishing, justifying the world in taking from them its ultimate
measure of force; finally, along with chariots, drivers, horses, let the reader
see the accompanying shadows fly; and, with such distinctness as the picture
comes, he may share the satisfaction and deeper pleasure of those to whom it
was a thrilling fact, not a feeble fancy. Every age has its plenty of sorrows;
Heaven help where there are no pleasures!
The competitors
having started each on the shortest line for the position next the wall,
yielding would be like giving up the race; and who dared yield? It is not in
common nature to change a purpose in mid-career; and the cries of encouragement
from the balcony were indistinguishable and indescribable: a roar which had the
same effect upon all the drivers.
The fours neared
the rope together. Then the trumpeter by the editor's side blew a signal
vigorously. Twenty feet away it was not heard. Seeing the action, however, the
judges dropped the rope, and not an instant too soon, for the hoof of one of
Messala's horses struck it as it fell. Nothing daunted, the Roman shook out his
long lash, loosed the reins, leaned forward, and, with a triumphant shout, took
the wall.
"Jove with
us! Jove with us!" yelled all the Roman faction, in a frenzy of delight.
As Messala turned
in, the bronze lion's head at the end of his axle caught the fore-leg of the
Athenian's right-hand trace-mate, flinging the brute over against its
yoke-fellow. Both staggered, struggled, and lost their headway. The ushers had
their will at least in part. The thousands held their breath with horror; only
up where the consul sat was there shouting.
"Jove with
us!" screamed Drusus, frantically.
"He wins!
Jove with us!" answered his associates, seeing Messala speed on.
Tablet in hand, Sanballat turned to them; a crash
from the course below stopped his speech, and he could not but look that way.
Messala having
passed, the Corinthian was the only contestant on the Athenian's right, and to
that side the latter tried to turn his broken four; and then; as ill-fortune
would have it, the wheel of the Byzantine, who was next on the left, struck the
tail-piece of his chariot, knocking his feet from under him. There was a crash,
a scream of rage and fear, and the unfortunate Cleanthes fell under the hoofs
of his own steeds: a terrible sight, against which Esther covered her eyes.
On swept the
Corinthian, on the Byzantine, on the Sidonian.
Sanballat looked
for Ben-Hur, and turned again to Drusus and his coterie.
"A hundred
sestertii on the Jew!" he cried.
"Taken!"
answered Drusus.
"Another
hundred on the Jew!" shouted Sanballat.
Nobody appeared
to hear him. He called again; the situation below was too absorbing, and they
were too busy shouting, "Messala! Messala! Jove with us!"
When the Jewess
ventured to look again, a party of workmen were removing the horses and broken
car; another party were taking off the man himself; and every bench upon which
there was a Greek was vocal with execrations and prayers for vengeance.
Suddenly she dropped her hands; Ben-Hur, unhurt, was to the front, coursing
freely forward along with the Roman! Behind them, in a group, followed the
Sidonian, the Corinthian, and the Byzantine.
The race was on;
the souls of the racers were in it; over them bent the myriads.
CHAPTER XIV
When the dash for
position began, Ben-Hur, as we have seen, was on the extreme left of the six.
For a moment, like the others, he was half blinded by the light in the arena;
yet he managed to catch sight of his antagonists and divine their purpose. At
Messala, who was more than an antagonist to him, he gave one searching look.
The air of passionless hauteur characteristic of the fine patrician face was
there as of old, and so was the Italian beauty, which the helmet rather
increased; but more - it may have been a jealous fancy, or the effect of the brassy
shadow in which the features were at the moment cast, still the Israelite
thought he saw the soul of the man as through a glass, darkly: cruel, cunning,
desperate; not so excited as determined - a soul in a tension of watchfulness
and fierce resolve.
In a time not
longer than was required to turn to his four again, Ben-Hur felt his own
resolution harden to a like temper. At whatever cost, at all hazards, he would
humble this enemy! Prize, friends, wagers, honor - everything that can be
thought of as a possible interest in the race was lost in the one deliberate
purpose. Regard for life even should not hold him back. Yet there was no
passion, on his part; no blinding rush of heated blood from heart to brain, and
back again; no impulse to fling himself upon Fortune: he did not believe in
Fortune; far otherwise. He had his plan, and, confiding in himself, he settled
to the task never more observant, never more capable. The air about him seemed
aglow with a renewed and perfect transparency.
When not half-way
across the arena, he saw that Messala's rush would, if there was no collision,
and the rope fell, give him the wall; that the rope would fall, he ceased as
soon to doubt; and, further, it came to him, a sudden flash-like insight, that
Messala knew it was to be let drop at the last moment (prearrangement with the
editor could safely reach that point in the contest); and it suggested, what
more Roman-like than for the official to lend himself to a countryman who,
besides being so popular, had also so much at stake? There could be no other
accounting for the confidence with which Messala pushed his four forward the
instant his competitors were prudentially checking their fours in front of the
obstruction - no other except madness.
It is one thing
to see a necessity and another to act upon it. Ben-Hur yielded the wall for the
time.
The rope fell,
and all the fours but his sprang into the course under urgency of voice and
lash. He drew head to the right, and, with all the speed of his Arabs, darted
across the trails of his opponents, the angle of movement being such as to lose
the least time and gain the greatest possible advance. So, while the spectators
were shivering at the Athenian's mishap, and the Sidonian, Byzantine, and
Corinthian were striving, with such skill as they possessed, to avoid
involvement in the ruin, Ben-Hur swept around and took the course neck and neck
with Messala, though on the outside. The marvellous skill shown in making the
change thus from the extreme left across to the right without appreciable loss
did not fail the sharp eyes upon the benches; the Circus seemed to rock and
rock again with prolonged applause. Then Esther clasped her hands in glad
surprise; then Sanballat, smiling, offered his hundred sestertii a second time
without a taker; and then the Romans began to doubt, thinking Messala might
have found an equal, if not a master, and that in an Israelite!
And now, racing
together side by side, a narrow interval between them, the two neared the
second goal.
The pedestal of
the three pillars there, viewed from the west, was a stone wall in the form of
a half-circle, around which the course and opposite balcony were bent in exact
parallelism. Making this turn was considered in all respects the most telling
test of a charioteer; it was, in fact, the very feat in which Oraetes failed.
As an involuntary admission of interest on the part of the spectators, a hush
fell over all the Circus, so that for the first time in the race the rattle and
clang of the cars plunging after the tugging steeds were distinctly heard.
Then, it would seem, Messala observed Ben-Hur, and recognized him; and at once
the audacity of the man flamed out in an astonishing manner.
"Down Eros, up Mars!" he shouted, whirling his lash with
practised hand -”Down Eros, up Mars!" he repeated, and caught the
well-doing Arabs of Ben-Hur a cut the like of which they had never known.
The blow was seen
in every quarter, and the amazement was universal. The silence deepened; up on
the benches behind the consul the boldest held his breath, waiting for the
outcome. Only a moment thus: then, involuntarily, down from the balcony, as
thunder falls, burst the indignant cry of the people.
The four sprang
forward affrighted. No hand had ever been laid upon them except in love; they had
been nurtured ever so tenderly; and as they grew, their confidence in man
became a lesson to men beautiful to see. What should such dainty natures do
under such indignity but leap as from death?
Forward they
sprang as with one impulse, and forward leaped the car. Past question, every
experience is serviceable to us. Where got Ben-Hur the large hand and mighty
grip which helped him now so well? Where but from the oar with which so long he
fought the sea? And what was this spring of the floor under his feet to the
dizzy eccentric lurch with which in the old time the trembling ship yielded to
the beat of staggering billows, drunk with their power? So he kept his place,
and gave the four free rein, and called to them in soothing voice, trying
merely to guide them round the dangerous turn; and before the fever of the
people began to abate, he had back the mastery. Nor that only: on approaching
the first goal, he was again side by side with Messala, bearing with him the
sympathy and admiration of every one not a Roman. So clearly was the feeling
shown, so vigorous its manifestation, that Messala, with all his boldness, felt
it unsafe to trifle further.
As the cars
whirled round the goal, Esther caught sight of Ben-Hur's face - a little pale,
a little higher raised, otherwise calm, even placid.
Immediately a man
climbed on the entablature at the west end of the division wall, and took down
one of the conical wooden balls. A dolphin on the east entablature was taken
down at the same time.
In like manner,
the second ball and second dolphin disappeared.
And then the
third ball and third dolphin.
Three rounds
concluded: still Messala held the inside position; still Ben-Hur moved with him
side by side; still the other competitors followed as before. The contest began
to have the appearance of one of the double races which became so popular in
Rome during the later Caesarean period - Messala and Ben-Hur in the first, the
Corinthian, Sidonian, and Byzantine in the second. Meantime the ushers
succeeded in returning the multitude to their seats, though the clamor
continued to run the rounds, keeping, as it were, even pace with the rivals in
the course below.
In the fifth
round the Sidonian succeeded in getting a place outside Ben-Hur, but lost it
directly.
The sixth round
was entered upon without change of relative position.
Gradually the
speed had been quickened - gradually the blood of the competitors warmed with
the work. Men and beasts seemed to know alike that the final crisis was near,
bringing the time for the winner to assert himself.
The interest
which from the beginning had centred chiefly in the struggle between the Roman
and the Jew, with an intense and general sympathy for the latter, was fast
changing to anxiety on his account. On all the benches the spectators bent
forward motionless, except as their faces turned following the contestants.
Ilderim quitted combing his beard, and Esther forgot her fears.
"A hundred
sestertii on the Jew!" cried Sanballat to the Romans under the consul's
awning.
There was no
reply.
"A talent -
or five talents, or ten; choose ye!"
He shook his
tablets at them defiantly.
"I will take
thy sestertii," answered a Roman youth, preparing to write.
"Do not
so," interposed a friend.
"Why?"
"Messala
hath reached his utmost speed. See him lean over his chariot rim, the reins
loose as flying ribbons. Look then at the Jew."
The first one
looked.
"By
Hercules!" he replied, his countenance falling. "The dog throws all
his weight on the bits. I see, I see! If the gods help not our friend, he will
be run away with by the Israelite. No, not yet. Look! Jove with us, Jove with
us!"
The cry, swelled
by every Latin tongue, shook the velaria over the consul's head.
If it were true
that Messala had attained his utmost speed, the effort was with effect; slowly
but certainly he was beginning to forge ahead. His horses were running with
their heads low down; from the balcony their bodies appeared actually to skim
the earth; their nostrils showed blood red in expansion; their eyes seemed straining
in their sockets. Certainly the good steeds were doing their best! How long
could they keep the pace? It was but the commencement of the sixth round. On
they dashed. As they neared the second goal, Ben-Hur turned in behind the
Roman's car.
The joy of the
Messala faction reached its bound: they screamed and howled, and tossed their
colors; and Sanballat filled his tablets with wagers of their tendering.
Malluch, in the
lower gallery over the Gate of Triumph, found it hard to keep his cheer. He had
cherished the vague hint dropped to him by Ben-Hur of something to happen in
the turning of the western pillars. It was the fifth round, yet the something
had not come; and he had said to himself, the sixth will bring it; but, lo!
Ben-Hur was hardly holding a place at the tail of his enemy's car.
Over in the east
end, Simonides' party held their peace. The merchant's head was bent low.
Ilderim tugged at his beard, and dropped his brows till there was nothing of
his eyes but an occasional sparkle of light. Esther scarcely breathed. Iras
alone appeared glad.
Along the
home-stretch - sixth round - Messala leading, next him Ben-Hur, and so close it
was the old story:
"First flew
Eumelus on Pheretian steeds;
With those of Tros
bold Diomed succeeds;
Close on Eumelus'
back they puff the wind,
And seem just
mounting on his car behind;
Full on his neck
he feels the sultry breeze,
And, hovering
o'er, their stretching shadow sees."
Thus to the first goal, and round it. Messala,
fearful of losing his place, hugged the stony wall with perilous clasp; a foot
to the left, and he had been dashed to pieces; yet, when the turn was finished,
no man, looking at the wheel-tracks of the two cars, could have said, here went
Messala, there the Jew. They left but one trace behind them.
As they whirled
by, Esther saw Ben-Hur's face again, and it was whiter than before.
Simonides,
shrewder than Esther, said to Ilderim, the moment the rivals turned into the
course, "I am no judge, good sheik, if Ben-Hur be not about to execute
some design. His face hath that look."
To which Ilderim
answered, "Saw you how clean they were and fresh? By the splendor of God,
friend, they have not been running! But now watch!"
One ball and one
dolphin remained on the entablatures; and all the people drew a long breath,
for the beginning of the end was at hand.
First, the
Sidonian gave the scourge to his four, and, smarting with fear and pain, they
dashed desperately forward, promising for a brief time to go to the front. The
effort ended in promise. Next, the Byzantine and the Corinthian each made the
trial with like result, after which they were practically out of the race.
Thereupon, with a readiness perfectly explicable, all the factions except the
Romans joined hope in Ben-Hur, and openly indulged their feeling.
"Ben-Hur!
Ben-Hur!" they shouted, and the blent voices of the many rolled
overwhelmingly against the consular stand.
From the benches
above him as he passed, the favor descended in fierce injunctions.
"Speed thee,
Jew!"
"Take the
wall now!"
"On! loose
the Arabs! Give them rein and scourge!"
"Let him not
have the turn on thee again. Now or never!"
Over the
balustrade they stooped low, stretching their hands imploringly to him.
Either he did not
hear, or could not do better, for halfway round the course and he was still
following; at the second goal even still no change!
And now, to make
the turn, Messala began to draw in his left-hand steeds, an act which
necessarily slackened their speed. His spirit was high; more than one altar was
richer of his vows; the Roman genius was still president. On the three pillars
only six hundred feet away were fame, increase of fortune, promotions, and a
triumph ineffably sweetened by hate, all in store for him! That moment Malluch,
in the gallery, saw Ben-Hur lean forward over his Arabs, and give them the
reins. Out flew the many-folded lash in his hand; over the backs of the
startled steeds it writhed and hissed, and hissed and writhed again and again;
and though it fell not, there were both sting and menace in its quick report;
and as the man passed thus from quiet to resistless action, his face suffused,
his eyes gleaming, along the reins he seemed to flash his will; and instantly
not one, but the four as one, answered with a leap that landed them alongside
the Roman's car. Messala, on the perilous edge of the goal, heard, but dared
not look to see what the awakening portended. From the people he received no
sign. Above the noises of the race there was but one voice, and that was
Ben-Hur's. In the old Aramaic, as the sheik himself, he called to the Arabs,
"On, Atair!
On, Rigel! What, Antares! dost thou linger now? Good horse - oho, Aldebaran! I
hear them singing in the tents. I hear the children singing and the women -
singing of the stars, of Atair, Antares, Rigel, Aldebaran, victory! - and the
song will never end. Well done! Home to-morrow, under the black tent - home!
On, Antares! The tribe is waiting for us, and the master is waiting! 'Tis done!
'tis done! Ha, ha! We have overthrown the proud. The hand that smote us is in
the dust. Ours the glory! Ha, ha! - steady! The work is done - soho!
Rest!"
There had never
been anything of the kind more simple; seldom anything so instantaneous.
At the moment
chosen for the dash, Messala was moving in a circle round the goal. To pass
him, Ben-Hur had to cross the track, and good strategy required the movement to
be in a forward direction; that is, on a like circle limited to the least
possible increase. The thousands on the benches understood it all: they saw the
signal given - the magnificent response; the four close outside Messala's outer
wheel; Ben-Hur's inner wheel behind the other's car - all this they saw. Then
they heard a crash loud enough to send a thrill through the Circus, and,
quicker than thought, out over the course a spray of shining white and yellow
flinders flew. Down on its right side toppled the bed of the Roman's chariot.
There was a rebound as of the axle hitting the hard earth; another and another;
then the car went to pieces; and Messala, entangled in the reins, pitched
forward headlong.
To increase the
horror of the sight by making death certain, the Sidonian, who had the wall
next behind, could not stop or turn out. Into the wreck full speed he drove;
then over the Roman, and into the latter's four, all mad with fear. Presently,
out of the turmoil, the fighting of horses, the resound of blows, the murky
cloud of dust and sand, he crawled, in time to see the Corinthian and Byzantine
go on down the course after Ben-Hur, who had not been an instant delayed.
The people arose,
and leaped upon the benches, and shouted and screamed. Those who looked that
way caught glimpses of Messala, now under the trampling of the fours, now under
the abandoned cars. He was still; they thought him dead; but far the greater
number followed Ben-Hur in his career. They had not seen the cunning touch of
the reins by which, turning a little to the left, he caught Messala's wheel
with the iron-shod point of his axle, and crushed it; but they had seen the
transformation of the man, and themselves felt the heat and glow of his spirit,
the heroic resolution, the maddening energy of action with which, by look,
word, and gesture, he so suddenly inspired his Arabs. And such running! It was
rather the long leaping of lions in harness; but for the lumbering chariot, it
seemed the four were flying. When the Byzantine and Corinthian were halfway
down the course, Ben-Hur turned the first goal.
AND
THE RACE WAS WON!
The consul arose; the people shouted themselves
hoarse; the editor came down from his seat, and crowned the victors.
The fortunate man
among the boxers was a low-browed, yellow-haired Saxon, of such brutalized face
as to attract a second look from Ben-Hur, who recognized a teacher with whom he
himself had been a favorite at Rome. From him the young Jew looked up and
beheld Simonides and his party on the balcony. They waved their hands to him.
Esther kept her seat; but Iras arose, and gave him a smile and a wave of her
fan - favors not the less intoxicating to him because we know, O reader, they
would have fallen to Messala had he been the victor.
The procession
was then formed, and, midst the shouting of the multitude which had had its
will, passed out of the Gate of Triumph.
And the day was
over.
No comments:
Post a Comment