When the dash for position began, Ben-Hur, as we have seen, was on the extreme left of the six.

For a moment, like the others, he was half blinded by the light in the arena; yet he managed to catch sight of his antagonists and divine their purpose.

At Messala, who was more than an antagonist to him, he gave one searching look.

The air of passionless hauteur characteristic of the fine patrician face was there as of old, and so was the Italian beauty, which the helmet rather increased; but more--it may have been a jealous fancy, or the effect of the brassy shadow in which the features were at the moment cast, still the Israelite thought he saw the soul of the man as through a glass, darkly: cruel, cunning, desperate; not so excited as determined--a soul in a tension of watchfulness and fierce resolve.
In a time not longer than was required to turn to his four again, Ben-Hur felt his own resolution harden to a like temper.

At whatever cost, at all hazards, he would humble this enemy! Prize, friends, wagers, honor--everything that can be thought of as a possible interest in the race was lost in the one deliberate purpose.
Regard for life even should not hold him back.