“I am just from the stalls, O sheik,” he said, bowing gravely to IIderim, 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—