Vergilius, now seeming unmindful of his pursuer, walked in the direction of the cohort.

Swiftly, stealthily, the prince came near, intending to plunge his lance into the back of the young tribune.

Suddenly there rose an outcry among the soldiers.

Vergilius turned; the prince halted, breathing heavily, for he had run near a hundred paces in the sea-sand.

A roar of rage burst from his lips.
"Dog!" he shouted.