t at that wheel,
reared at it, and leapt it clean. As they leapt they were not helping to
pull the chariot, the yoke-mates pulled it over the stalled axles. But the
momentary check as the chariot hit the axles and leapt up gave the leaping
trace-mates just the instant of time they needed to find their feet and
regain their stride. The whole thing was a miracle; of training, of skill
and of luck."

"But don't forget," said Colgius, "that the skill and judgment Palus
displayed counted for more than the breed of his team and his luck. Do not
forget the perfect form he showed: not an awkward pose, not a sign of
effort, not a hint of anxiety; self-possession, courage, self-confidence
all through and the most perfect grace of movement, ease, and suggestion
of reserve strength. He is a prodigy."

After Agathemer and I were alone in the dark on our cots we whispered to
each other a long time.

"Do you really believe," I said, "that Commodus is so insane about horse-
racing as to be willing to put Furfur on his throne in his robes so that
he can degrade himself under the name of Palus?"

"I do," said Agathemer. "No other conjecture fits what we saw. The man on
the throne was certainly the image of Commodus, but had not his elegance
of port and grace of movement. Palus has all the inimitable gracefulness
which Commodus displayed when driving teams in the Palace Stadium."

"He is incredibly stupid in undervaluing and failing to prize his
privileges as Emperor," I said, "and amazingly reckless in allowing anyone
else to occupy his throne, wearing his robes."

"He is yet more reckless to race as he does," Agathemer commented, "and I
should not be astonished if we have seen his last public appearance as a
charioteer."

"Why?" I queried startled.

"Because," said Agathemer, "he must be incredibly stupid not to perceive,
now, what opportunities the Circus offers for getting rid of an Emperor
posing as a charioteer.

"A stupider man than Commodus can possibly be should be able to comprehend
that there must have been a very carefully planned plot in the Blue
Company, a plot which must have cost a mountain of gold to carry so far
towards success, a plot which never would have been laid for a mere
jockey, however much his rivalry threatened the Company's winnings and
prestige. Only a coterie of very wealthy men could have devised and pushed
it. It cost money to induce charioteers to come so close to almost certain
death in order