Now the Jews
laughed, while the Romans uttered a shout of rage at the intolerable
affront offered to their commander. As for Marcus, he wheeled round,
sword in hand, and flew straight at Caleb's throat.
But it was for this that the Jew had been waiting, since he knew that no
Roman, and least of all Marcus, would submit to the indignity of such a
blow. As his adversary came on, made almost blind with fury, he leapt
to one side lightly as a lion leaps, and with all the force of his long
sinewy arm brought down his heavy sword upon the head of Marcus. The
helm was good, or the skull beneath must have been split in two by that
blow, which, as it was, shore through it and bit deeply into the bone.
Beneath the shock Marcus staggered, threw his arms wide, and let fall
his sword. With a shout Caleb sprang at him to make an end of him, but
before he could strike the Roman seemed to recover himself, and, knowing
that his weapon was gone, did the only thing he could, rushed straight
at his foe. Caleb's sword fell on his shoulder, but the tempered mail
withstood it, and next instant Marcus had gripped him in his arms. Down
they came together to the earth, rolling over each other, the Jew trying
to stab the Roman, the Roman to choke the Jew with his bare hand.
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