Ben Hur by Lew Wallace (best romance ebooks TXT) 📕

thought of everything rather than the wretchedness of the slaves upon the benches. Their motions, precise, and exactly the same on both sides of the vessel, after a while became monotonous; and then he amused himself singling out individuals. With his stylus he made note of objections, thinking, if all went well, he would find among the pirates of whom he was in search better men for the places.

There was no need of keeping the proper names of the slaves brought to the galleys as to their graves; so, for convenience, they were usually identified by the numerals painted upon the benches to which they were assigned. As the sharp eyes of the great man moved from seat to seat on either hand, they came at last to number sixty, which, as has been said, belonged properly to the last bank on the left-hand side, but, wanting room aft, had been fixed above the first bench of the first bank. There they rested.

The bench of number sixty was slightly above the level of the platform, and but a few feet away. The light glinting through the grating over his head gave the rower fairly to the tribune’s view⁠—erect, and, like all his fellows, naked, except a cincture about the loins. There were, however, some points in his favor. He was very young, not more than twenty. Furthermore, Arrius was not merely given to dice; he was a connoisseur of men physically, and when ashore indulged a habit of visiting the gymnasia to see and admire the most famous athletae. From some professor, doubtless, he had caught the idea that strength was as much of the quality as the quantity of the muscle, while superiority in performance required a certain mind as well as strength. Having adopted the doctrine, like most men with a hobby, he was always looking for illustrations to support it.

The reader may well believe that while the tribune, in the search for the perfect, was often called upon to stop and study, he was seldom perfectly satisfied⁠—in fact, very seldom held as long as on this occasion.

In the beginning of each movement of the oar, the rower’s body and face were brought into profile view from the platform; the movement ended with the body reversed, and in a pushing posture. The grace and ease of the action at first suggested a doubt of the honesty of the effort put forth; but it was speedily dismissed; the firmness with which the oar was held while in the reach forward, its bending under the push, were proofs of the force applied; not that only, they as certainly proved the rower’s art, and put the critic in the great armchair in search of the combination of strength and cleverness which was the central idea of his theory.

In course of the study, Arrius observed the subject’s youth; wholly unconscious of tenderness on that account, he also observed that he seemed of good height, and that his limbs, upper and nether, were singularly perfect. The arms, perhaps, were too long, but the objection was well hidden under a mass of muscle, which, in some movements, swelled and knotted like kinking cords. Every rib in the round body was discernible; yet the leanness was the healthful reduction so strained after in the palaestrae. And altogether there was in the rower’s action a certain harmony which, besides addressing itself to the tribune’s theory, stimulated both his curiosity and general interest.

Very soon he found himself waiting to catch a view of the man’s face in full. The head was shapely, and balanced upon a neck broad at the base, but of exceeding pliancy and grace. The features in profile were of Oriental outline, and of that delicacy of expression which has always been thought a sign of blood and sensitive spirit. With these observations, the tribune’s interest in the subject deepened.

“By the gods,” he said to himself, “the fellow impresses me! He promises well. I will know more of him.”

Directly the tribune caught the view he wished⁠—the rower turned and looked at him.

“A Jew! and a boy!”

Under the gaze then fixed steadily upon him, the large eyes of the slave grew larger⁠—the blood surged to his very brows⁠—the blade lingered in his hands. But instantly, with an angry crash, down fell the gavel of the hortator. The rower started, withdrew his face from the inquisitor, and, as if personally chidden, dropped the oar half feathered. When he glanced again at the tribune, he was vastly more astonished⁠—he was met with a kindly smile.

Meantime the galley entered the Straits of Messina, and, skimming past the city of that name, was after a while turned eastward, leaving the cloud over Aetna in the sky astern.

Often as Arrius resumed to his platform in the cabin he returned to study the rower, and he kept saying to himself, “The fellow hath a spirit. A Jew is not a barbarian. I will know more of him.”

III

The fourth day out, and the Astroea⁠—so the galley was named⁠—speeding through the Ionian Sea. The sky was clear, and the wind blew as if bearing the goodwill of all the gods.

As it was possible to overtake the fleet before reaching the bay east of the island of Cythera, designated for assemblage, Arrius, somewhat impatient, spent much time on deck. He took note diligently of matters pertaining to his ship, and as a rule was well pleased. In the cabin, swinging in the great chair, his thought continually reverted to the rower on number sixty.

“Knowest thou the man just come from yon bench?” he at length asked of the hortator.

A relief was going on at the moment.

“From number sixty?” returned the chief.

“Yes.”

The chief looked sharply at the rower then going forward.

“As thou knowest,” he replied, “the ship is but a month from the maker’s hand, and the men are as new to me as the ship.”

“He is a Jew,” Arrius remarked, thoughtfully.

“The noble Quintus is shrewd.”

“He is very