ings, into horrible battle had, for the time, nothing to
do with his thoughts. The things thus in hope were unmixed with
doubts--they WERE. Hence his joy so full, so perfect, there was
no room in his heart for revenge. Messala, Gratus, Rome, and all
the bitter, passionate memories connected with them, were as dead
plagues--miasms of the earth above which he floated, far and safe,
listening to singing stars.

The deeper darkness before the dawn was upon the waters, and all
things going well with the Astroea, when a man, descending from
the deck, walked swiftly to the platform where the tribune slept,
and awoke him. Arrius arose, put on his helmet, sword, and shield,
and went to the commander of the marines.

"The pirates are close by. Up and ready!" he said, and passed to
the stairs, calm, confident, insomuch that one might have thought,
"Happy fellow! Apicius has set a feast for him."

CHAPTER V

Every soul aboard, even the ship, awoke. Officers went to their
quarters. The marines took arms, and were led out, looking in all
respects like legionaries. Sheaves of arrows and armfuls of javelins
were carried on deck. By the central stairs the oil-tanks and fire-balls
were set ready for use. Additional lanterns were lighted. Buckets were
filled with water. The rowers in relief assembled under guard in
front of the chief. As Providence would have it, Ben-Hur was one
of the latter. Overhead he heard the muffled noises of the final
preparations--of the sailors furling sail, spreading the nettings,
unslinging the machines, and hanging the armor of bull-hide over the
side. Presently quiet settled about the galley again; quiet full
of vague dread and expectation, which, interpreted, means READY.

At a signal passed down from the deck, and communicated to the
hortator by a petty officer stationed on the stairs, all at once
the oars stopped.

What did it mean?

Of the hundred and twenty slaves chained to the benches, not one but
asked himself the question. They were without incentive. Patriotism,
love of honor, sense of duty, brought them no inspiration. They felt
the thrill common to men rushed helpless and blind into danger. It may
be supposed the dullest of them, poising his oar, thought of all that
might happen, yet could promise himself nothing; for victory would but
rivet his chains the firmer, while the chances of the ship were his;
sinking or on fire, he was doomed to her fate.

Of the situation without th