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Updated: June 27, 2025
If anybody knows what I'm doing they'll say that Almo is a lunatic and I am another to send him. But nobody will ever know and if everybody knows, what do I care. Father knew a good man when he saw one. I'll take his word for it that Almo proved himself the greatest genius for desert fighting that the Republic has produced in a hundred years.
"Once inside the Atrium I'll not try to come back this way, I'll find the Palladium or make sure it is not there; then I'll run upstairs to the south-east corner. Those rooms are on a level with the pavement of the New Street." "But," Almo interrupted, "there isn't an opening towards the New Street.
"How do you expect to succeed in speaking to Almo?" he asked. "I leave that to you," she said; "you must manage to see the Dictator of Aricia and tell him that you have with you a lady in a litter who must speak to the challenger before the fight." "I'll attempt the commission," said Vocco, "and I'll do my utmost, but I hold it impossible."
The lanista, in fact, at once matched Almo with another full-armed giant. Again Almo gave an exhibition of perfect swordsmanship. The Romans were as quick to appreciate form in fighting as we moderns are to applaud our best bail players; they recognized pre-eminence in the swordman's art, as we acclaim the skill of a crack baseball pitcher or cricket bowler.
The incumbent was a dead man from the moment he faced Almo. Both knew it, too, and, since then he has done for the pick of the blackguards from all Italy. If Ravax and his gang could find no one to face him, there is none; if no man of that crew could best him, not Ravax himself, no man can best him. Don't you see?" "No, I don't," she said. "It will be just like his fights in the arena.
While it was in progress Manlia had seen one of the Emperor's orderlies enter the arena from one of the small doors in the wall and confer with the chief lanista, who directed the fighting. By the time Almo began a fourth bout half the audience was looking at him or at Brinnaria.
Consequently all that the racing-companies could do to find Almo was done as well as all that could be done by the private detective agencies and by government officials. All that was done was utterly in vain. No trace of Almo could be discovered after he had sailed from Hippo with Jegius. No slave-dealer named Jegius could be found nor anyone who knew such a slave-dealer.
At the end Almo slashed his opponent's wrist, feinted, pretended to be unable to avoid a clumsy thrust, slipped inside the big man's guard and drove his sabre deep under his arm-pit. The Colosseum rang with cheers. Without so much as a sponging down or a mouthful of wine Almo was faced by a seventh fresh swordsman in complete armor. This time there were no caterwaulings or groans.
He hates you because you wouldn't marry him and he is t-t-tenaciously resolved to be revenged. He is on the lookout for anything that might d-d-discredit you. He hoped to spy on an interview b-b-between you and Almo, for he surmised that you would arrange to have Almo meet you in the empty house!" "The nasty beast!" cried Brinnaria, shocked. "How dare he?"
Almo was an immediate and brilliant success as a leader of scouting expeditions, cavalry dashes, and, within a year, of raids in considerable force. His men adored him at once; his fellow-officers found him excellent company, unassuming and companionable, his commanders came early to rely on him.
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