With these observations, the tribune's interest in the subject deepened.
"By the gods," he said to himself, "the fellow impresses me! He promises well.

I will know more of him." Directly the tribune caught the view he wished--the rower turned and looked at him.
"A Jew! and a boy!" Under the gaze then fixed steadily upon him, the large eyes of the slave grew larger--the blood surged to his very brows--the blade lingered in his hands.

But instantly, with an angry crash, down fell the gavel of the hortator.

The rower started, withdrew his face from the inquisitor, and, as if personally chidden, dropped the oar half feathered.

When he glanced again at the tribune, he was vastly more astonished--he was met with a kindly smile.
Meantime the galley entered the Straits of Messina, and, skimming past the city of that name, was after a while turned eastward, leaving the cloud over AEtna in the sky astern.
Often as Arrius resumed to his platform in the cabin he returned to study the rower, and he kept saying to himself, "The fellow hath a spirit.