"Does he, then, seem to shrink?" asked the child.
"I do not," replied Claudius, "observe any shrinking, my lord. It is I who shrink. He has drawn slowly near the horse in front, and stands about half a yard from his left shoulder. He is following Tiberius Cæsar with his eyes."
"Go on!"
"The arena is now clear of all save on the one hand the two Cæsars and their retinues, who have taken their stand very near to us, just opposite to and beneath this platform, my lord; and on the other hand, the group around that horrible animal. Ah! me miserable! Tiberius Cæsar lifts his hand, and you hear the trumpet! That is the signal."
"I hear it! I hear it!" cried the child, in a sort of ecstasy. "What follows now? Has the knight Paulus mounted?"
"No, my lord; he has—"
"He shrinks, does he not?" interrupted the other with a taunting giggle.
"The horse trembles in every limb," said the slave; "his nostrils dilate and quiver, and show scarlet, as if on fire; and his eyes shoot forth a blood-red gleam, and he has stooped his head, and—"
"But the man, the man?" screamed Caius; "what of him? Has he not failed, I say—lost heart?"
The most profound stillness had succeeded to the hubbub of blended sounds which a moment previously filled the air.