"Horsemen! They are dismounting before the house. There are more than a score of them. We shall be cut to pieces."
"We have more than fifty," retorted Dumnorix, viciously. "I will sacrifice them all, rather than have the attack fail!—" But before he could speak further, to the din of the fighting at the doors of the peristylium was added a second clamour without. And into the atrium, sword in hand, burst Caius Curio, and another young, handsome, aquiline-featured man, dressed in a low-girt tunic, with a loose, coarse mantle above it,—a man known to history as Marcus Antonius, or "Marc Antony "; and at their backs were twenty men in full armour.
The courage of the lanista had failed him. Already Drusus's reinforcements in the peristylium had become so numerous and so well armed that the young chieftain was pushing back the gladiators and rapidly assuming the offensive. Gabinius was the first to take flight. He plunged into one of the rooms off the atrium, and through a side door gained the open. The demoralized and beaten gladiators followed him, like a flock of sheep. Only Dumnorix and two or three of his best men stood at the exit long enough to cover, in some measure, the retreat.
Once outside, the late assailants gained a temporary respite, owing to the fact that the defenders had been disorganized by their very victory.
"We have lost," groaned Gabinius, as the lanista drew his men together in a compact body, before commencing his retreat.
"We are alive," growled Dumnorix.
"We cannot go back to Rome," moaned the other. "We are all identified. No bribe or favour can save us now."
"A robber's life is still left," retorted Dumnorix, "and we must make of it what we can. Some of my men know these parts, where they have been slaves, before coming to my hands. We must strike off for the mountains, if we live to get there."
All that day the country was in a turmoil. The Prænestean senate had met in hasty session, and the decurions[118] ordered the entire community under arms to hunt down the disturbers of the peace. Not until nightfall did Dumnorix and a mere remnant of his band find themselves able, under the shadow of the darkness, to shake off the pursuit. Gabinius was still with him. Curio and Antonius had chased them down with their horsemen; many of the gladiators had been slain, many more taken. For the survivors only the life of outlaws remained. The fastnesses of the Apennines were their sole safety; and thither—scarce daring to stop to pillage for victuals—they hurried their weary steps.