A silence all at once fell upon the vast swaying crowd, while several men with trumpets, advancing from the centre of the stadium and addressing the people, cried out the names of the competitors, and the cities from which they came. Rachel and Diana exchanged delighted glances when the name of Agis of Athens was announced among the rest, and, after the last notes of the trumpets had died away, they saw the athletes being arranged for the first race. “That’s the umpire, I suppose?” whispered Rachel, pointing to a man who was marshalling the boys. Sheshà nodded, and, a second later, Diana asked eagerly: “What are they doing now?” For one of the umpires was reciting something in a loud voice, to which all the competitors replied with a shout of assent. “The athletes are taking the oath to observe all the rules of the games, and to gain no advantage by means unfair and dishonourable,” explained Sheshà. “Look! Look! They’re off,” cried Rachel, as she pranced up and down, quite unable to keep still. Like a streak of white lightning round the ring, the boys and young men rushed with a swiftness which made the children hold their breath. Shouts of encouragement and of delight from the audience accompanied their course, and, after a few moments of tense excitement, the trumpets blew, and, yes—! It was the name of Agis that resounded through the stadium! There came a hurricane of applause in which the children madly joined. Then other contests took place. Each one of these, the wrestling, boxing, quoit throwing, and especially the chariot racing, had its separate thrill, and was followed with breathless interest by the crowd. But it was the great horse-race to which both the children looked forward with the most intense longing—the race in which Phidolas and his beautiful mare, Aura, were to compete. At last it came. There were many competitors, all of them splendid youths, mounted upon splendid horses. But, while preparations for the start were being made, Rachel and Diana’s eyes strayed oftenest to Phidolas and Aura. A deep sigh from both of them told of their suspense, when like an arrow from a bow, Aura sprang forward with her rider, and the whole crowd of horsemen were off like the wind. Once round the stadium had the racers been, when suddenly a great cry arose from the spectators. Phidolas had been thrown! For a second he lay on the ground, till the umpires, rushing forward, dragged him out of the way of thundering hoofs. Then a mighty clamour arose.... “What are they saying? Oh, what _is_ it they’re shouting?” begged the children, wild with anxiety. “They are pitying Phidolas, since it was to keep faithfully the rules of the race that he was unseated,” explained Sheshà. “Did you not see how he swerved to avoid hindering the rider that followed him in his course?” But the children scarcely listened, for another shout, this time of amazement, made them look to where everyone was pointing.