When I press it thus," and he suited the action to the word, "as I thought, my finger leaves scarcely any mark." "But my arm does," said a gruff voice beside him, and next moment this scented judge of human beings received the point of the elbow of Gallus between the eyes just where the nose is set into the forehead.

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.