With such
force and skill was the blow directed that next instant the critic was
sprawling on his back upon the pavement, the blood gushing from his
nostrils. Now most of them laughed, but some murmured, while Gallus
said:
"Way there, friends, way there! I am charged to deliver this lady to the
Caesars and to certify that while she was in my care no man has so
much as laid a finger on her. Way there, I pray you! And as for that
whimpering puppy on his back, if he wishes it, he knows where to
find Gallus. My sword will mark him worse than my elbow, if he wants
blood-letting, that I swear."
Now with jests and excuses they fell back one and all. There were few
of them who did not know that, lame as he might be now, old Gallus was
still the fiercest and most dreaded swordsman of his legion. Indeed he
was commonly reported to have slain eighteen men in single combat, and
when young even to have faced the most celebrated gladiator of the day
for sport, or to win a private bet, and given him life as he lay at his
mercy.
So they passed on through long halls guarded by soldiers, till at length
they came to a wide passage closed with splendid curtains, where the
officer on duty asked them their business.
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