The examination of the statue was brief. Directly the Northman turned, and said something in the unknown tongue; then both looked at Ben-Hur. A few more words, and they advanced towards him.
"Who are you?" he asked in Latin.
The Northman fetched a smile which did not relieve his face of its brutalism, and answered,
"Barbarians."
"This is the palace of Idernee. Whom seek you? Stand and answer."
The words were spoken with earnestness. The strangers stopped; and in his turn the Northman asked, "Who are you?"
"A Roman."
The giant laid his head back upon his shoulders.
"Ha, ha, ha! I have heard how a god once came from a cow licking a salted stone; but not even a god can make a Roman of a Jew."
The laugh over, he spoke to his companion again, and they moved nearer.
"Hold!" said Ben-Hur, quitting the pillar. "One word."
They stopped again.
"A word!" replied the Saxon, folding his immense arms across his breast, and relaxing the menace beginning to blacken his face. "A word! Speak."
"You are Thord the Northman."
The giant opened his blue eyes.
"You were lanista in Rome."
Thord nodded.
"I was your scholar."
"No," said Thord, shaking his head.
"By the beard of Irmin, I had never a Jew to make a fighting-man of."
"But I will prove my saying."
"How?"
"You came here to kill me."
"That is true."
"Then let this man fight me singly, and I will make the proof on his body."
A gleam of humor shown in the Northman’s face. He
