In the houdah, the old man moved to escape; but he was hampered with age, and could not, even in the face of danger, forget the dignity which was plainly his habit.

It was too late for the woman to save herself.
Ben-Hur stood nearest them, and he called to Messala, "Hold! Look where thou goest! Back, back!" The patrician was laughing in hearty good-humor; and, seeing there was but one chance of rescue, Ben-Hur stepped in, and caught the bits of the left yoke-steed and his mate.

"Dog of a Roman! Carest thou so little for life ?" he cried, putting forth all his strength.
The two horses reared, and drew the others round; the tilting of the pole tilted the chariot; Messala barely escaped a fall, while his complacent Myrtilus rolled back like a clod to the ground.

Seeing the peril past, all the bystanders burst into derisive laughter.
The matchless audacity of the Roman then manifested itself.
Loosing the lines from his body, he tossed them to one side, dismounted, walked round the camel, looked at Ben-Hur, and spoke partly to the old man and partly to the woman.
"Pardon, I pray you--I pray you both.

I am Messala," he said; "and, by the old Mother of the earth, I swear I did not see you or your camel! As to these good people--perhaps I trusted too much to my skill.