The hand that smote us is in the dust.

Ours the glory! Ha, ha!--steady! The work is done--soho! Rest!" There had never been anything of the kind more simple; seldom anything so instantaneous.
At the moment chosen for the dash, Messala was moving in a circle round the goal.

To pass him, Ben-Hur had to cross the track, and good strategy required the movement to be in a forward direction; that is, on a like circle limited to the least possible increase.
The thousands on the benches understood it all: they saw the signal given--the magnificent response; the four close outside Messala's outer wheel; Ben-Hur's inner wheel behind the other's car--all this they saw.

Then they heard a crash loud enough to send a thrill through the Circus, and, quicker than thought, out over the course a spray of shining white and yellow flinders flew.

Down on its right side toppled the bed of the Roman's chariot.