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| Ben hur |
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| 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. |