ses.

"Oh, the stallion! My stallion!" shouted Modigisel. But the Moor was
already on the back of the magnificent animal. A word in its ear, the
horse sprang forward, the crowd scattered shrieking, and already Styx
and his rider were flying over the road to Numidia in the sheltering
darkness of the night.

"The stallion," muttered Modigisel. "That will cost me the casting of
the dice for the young wife."

Thrasaric gazed after the horse in amazement. "O God, I thank Thee! I
will deserve it; I will atone. Come, little one. To the King! He seems
to need me."

Meanwhile the nobles and their followers had pressed forward
threateningly against the King, who did not yield a step.

"We will not be ruled by you," cried Gundomar.

"We will not be forbidden to enjoy the pleasures of life!" exclaimed
Modigisel. "To-morrow, whether you are willing or not, I will invite my
friends. We will meet again in this arena."

"No, you will not," said the King, quietly, and taking the torch from
the hand of the nearest slave he rose in his stirrups, and, with a sure
aim, hurled it high over the heads of the crowd into the silk tent,
which instantly caught fire and blazed up brightly. Loud roars came
from the cages of the wild beasts.

"Do you dare?" shrieked Gundobad. "This house is not yours. It belongs
to the Vandal nation! How dare you destroy their pleasures, merely
because you do not share them?"

"And why do you not share them?" added Gundomar. "Because you are no
true man, no real Vandal."

"An enthusiast--no king of a race of heroes!"

"Why do you so often tremble?"

"Who knows whether some secret sin does not burden you?"

"Who knows whether your courage will not fail when danger--"

Just at that moment, drowning every other sound, a shrill shriek of
horror, of mortal fear, rang from many hundred throats; a short,
exulting roar could scarcely be heard through the tumult. "The tiger!
The tiger is free!" rose from the arena.

And rushing thence in a dense crowd, frantic with terror, came men,
women, and children, all struggling together. Everywhere they met other
throngs, and, unable to go farther, jostled, pushed, stumbled, fell,
and were trampled under foot.

Above them, on the first story of the Amphitheatre, directly opposite
to the King, the broken chain trailing from its collar, crouched the
huge tiger, lashing his flanks with his tail, his jaws wide open,
hesitating between the spur of his fierce hunger and