, glittering eye from the movements of the swordsman. Suddenly,
when Sporus had approached nearly at arm's length, the retiarius threw
himself forward and cast his net. A quick inflection of body saved the
gladiator from the deadly snare; he uttered a sharp cry of joy and rage
and rushed upon Niger; but Niger had already drawn in his net, thrown it
across his shoulders, and now fled around the lists with a swiftness
which the _secutor_[6] in vain endeavored to equal. The people laughed
and shouted aloud to see the ineffectual efforts of the broad-shouldered
gladiator to overtake the flying giant; when at that moment their
attention was turned from these to the two Roman combatants.

[Footnote 6: So called from the office of that tribe of gladiators in
_following_ the foe the moment the net was cast, in order to smite him
ere he could have time to re-arrange it.]

They had placed themselves at the onset face to face, at the distance of
modern fencers from each other; but the extreme caution which both
evinced at first had prevented any warmth of engagement, and allowed the
spectators full leisure to interest themselves in the battle between
Sporus and his foe. But the Romans were now heated into full and fierce
encounter: they pushed--returned--advanced on--retreated from each
other, with all that careful yet scarcely perceptible caution which
characterizes men well experienced and equally matched. But at this
moment Eumolpus, the older gladiator, by that dextrous back-stroke which
was considered in the arena so difficult to avoid, had wounded Nepimus
in the side. The people shouted; Lepidus turned pale.

"Ho!" said Clodius, "the game is nearly over. If Eumolpus rights now the
quiet fight, the other will gradually bleed himself away."

"But, thank the gods! he does _not_ fight the backward fight. See!--he
presses hard upon Nepimus. By Mars! but Nepimus had him there! the
helmet rang again!--Clodius, I shall win!"

"Why do I ever bet but at the dice?" groaned Clodius to himself;--"or
why cannot one cog a gladiator?"

"A Sporus!--a Sporus!" shouted the populace, as Niger, now having
suddenly paused, had again cast his net, and again unsuccessfully. He
had not retreated this time with sufficient agility--the sword of Sporus
had inflicted a severe wound upon his right leg; and, incapacitated to
fly, he was pressed hard by the fierce swordsman. His great height and
length of arm still continued, however, to give him no d