clapping the back of the senator whom he
had scurrilously insulted a moment ago. If he was conscious of applause
from the group of courtiers and gladiators he gave no sign of it. What
pleased him was his own ability, not their praises.

"Lions!" he said. "Loose that big one!"

"Paulus," a scarred veteran answered (they were all forbidden to address
him by any other name in that arena), "you have ordered us to keep that
fellow for the birthday games. If you keep killing all the best ones
off at practise, what shall we do when the day comes? The last ship-
load has arrived from Africa and already you have used up nearly half of
them. There is no chance of another cargo arriving in time for the
games. And besides, we have lacked corpses recently; that big one
hasn't tasted man's flesh. He is hungry now. He will eat whatever we
throw in, so let him taste the right meat that will make him savage."

"Loose a leopard then."

The veteran went off without a word to give his orders to the men below-
ground, whose duty it was to drag the cages to the openings of tunnels
in the masonry through which the animals emerged into the sunlight.
There were ten such openings on either side of the arena, closed by
trapdoors, set in grooves, that could be raised by ropes from overhead.

Commodus picked up one javelin and poised it. Half-a-dozen gladiators
watched him, paying no attention to the doors, through any one of which
the animal might come. They knew their Paulus, and were trained,
besides, to look at death or danger with a curious, contemptuous calm.
But the courtiers were nervous, grouping themselves where the sunlight
threw a V-shaped shadow on the sand, as if they thought that semi-
twilight would protect them.

A wooden door rose squeaking in its grooves but Commodus kept his back
toward it.

"Women!" he exclaimed.

His sudden scowl transformed his handsome face into a thing of horror.
He began to mutter savagely obscene abuse. A leopard crept into the
sunlight, tried to turn again but was prevented by the closing trap, and
crouched against the arena wall.

"Beware! The beast comes!" said a gladiator.

"Hold your presumptuous tongue, you slave-born rascal!" Commodus
retorted. "Take that yapping dog away and have him whipped!"

A man stepped from the entrance gate to beckon the offending gladiator,
who walked out with a look of hatred on his face. He paused once,
hesitating whether to ask mercy, and t