Hannibal's daughter

by Andrew Haggard

PART II.

CHAPTER I.
ELISSA.

All the lower parts of Spain had been conquered and settled. Hamilcar had died, as he had lived, fighting nobly, after enjoying almost regal rank in his new country. Hasdrubal, who had succeeded him, was also dead, and now Hannibal, Hamilcar’s son, a man in the young prime of life, held undisputed sway throughout the length and breadth of the many countries of Iberia that his father’s arms and his father’s talents had won for Carthage.

In the delightful garden of a stately building reared upon a hill within the walls of the city of Carthagena or New Carthage, a group of girls and young matrons were assembled under a spreading tree, just beyond whose shade was situated a marble fish pond, filled with graceful gold and silver fishes. The borders of the pond were fringed with marble slabs, and white marble steps led down into the basin for bathing purposes. In the centre a fountain threw up in glittering spray a jet of water which fell back with a tinkling sound into the basin.

Upon the marble steps, apart from the other young women, sat a maiden listlessly dabbling her fingers and one foot in the water, and watching the fishes as they darted hither and thither after some insect, or rose occasionally to the surface to nibble at a piece of bread which she threw them from time to time. The girl, who was in her seventeenth year, was in all the height of that youthful beauty which has not yet quite developed into the fuller charms of womanhood, and yet is so alluring with all the possibilities of what it may become.

Of Carthaginian origin on the father’s side, her mother was a princess of Spain—Camilla, daughter of the King of Gades. She had inherited from the East the glorious reddish black hair and dark liquid eyes, and had derived from the Atlantic breezes, which had for centuries swept her Iberian home, the brilliant peach-like colouring with its delicate bloom, seeming as though it would perish at a touch, which is still to be seen in the maidens of the modern Seville. For this city of Andalusia had been, under the name of Shefelah, a part of her grandfather’s dominions. Tall she was and graceful; her bosom, which was exposed in the Greek fashion on one side, might have formed the model to a Phidias for the young Psyche; her ivory arms were gently rounded and graceful. Her rosy delicate foot was of classical symmetry, and the limb above, displayed while dabbling in the water, was so shapely, with its small ankle and rounded curves, that, as she sat on the marble there by the fish pond in her white flowing robes, an onlooker might well have been pardoned had he imagined that he was looking upon a nymph, a naiad just sprung from the waters, rather than upon the daughter of man.

But it was in the face that lay the particular charm. Above the snow-white forehead and the pink, shell-like ear, which it partially concealed, lay the masses of ruddy black hair bound with a silver fillet. The delicious eyes, melting and tender, beamed with such hopes of love and passion that had the observer been, as indeed were possible, content for ever to linger in their dusky depths of glowing fire, he might have exclaimed, “a woman of passion, one made for love only, nothing more!” Yet closer observation disclosed that above those eyes curved two ebony bows which rivalled Cupid’s arc in shape, and which, although most captivating, nevertheless expressed resolution. The chin, although softly rounded, was also firm; the nose and delicious mouth, both almost straight, betokened a character not easily to be subdued, although the redness and slight fulness of the lips seemed almost to proclaim a soft sensuous side to the nature, as though they were made rather for the kisses of love than to issue commands to those beneath her in rank and station.

Such, then, is the portrait of Elissa, Hannibal’s daughter.

The other ladies, including her aunt, the Princess Cœcilia, widow of Hasdrubal, a buxom, merry-looking woman of thirty, kept aloof, respecting her reverie. For, notwithstanding her youth, the lady Elissa was paramount, not only in the palace, but also in the New Town or City of Carthagena during the absence of her father Hannibal and her uncles Hasdrubal and Mago at the siege of the Greek city of Saguntum, and had been invested by Hannibal, on his departure, with all the powers of a regent. For, being motherless almost from her birth, Hannibal, a young man himself, had been accustomed to treat her as a sister, almost as much as a daughter. He had been married when a mere lad, for political reasons, by his father Hamilcar, and Elissa had been the sole offspring of the marriage. Since her mother’s death he had remained single, and devoted all his fatherly and brotherly love to training his only daughter to have those same noble aims, worthy of the lion’s brood of Hamilcar, which inspired all his own actions in life. And these aims may be summed up in a few words: devotion to country before everything; self abnegation, ay, self sacrifice in every way, for the country’s welfare; ambition in its highest sense, not for the sake of personal aggrandisement, but for the glory of Carthage alone. No hardships, no personal abasement even—further, not even extreme personal shame, or humiliation if needful, was to be shrunk from if thereby the interests of Carthage could be advanced. Self was absolutely and at all times to be entirely set upon one side and placed out of the question, as though no such thing as self existed; the might, glory, and power of the Carthaginian kingdom were to be the sole rule, the sole object of existence, and with them the undying hatred of and longing for revenge upon Rome and the Romans, as the greatest enemies of that kingdom, through whom so many humiliations, including the loss in war of Sicily, and the loss by fraud of Sardinia, had been inflicted upon the great nation founded by Dido, sister of Pygmalion, King of Tyre.

These, then, were the precepts that Hannibal had ever, from her earliest youth, inculcated in his daughter; and with the object that she might learn early in life to witness and expect sudden reverses of fortune, he had hitherto, since her twelfth year, ever taken her with him upon his campaigns against the Iberian tribes. Thus she might from early experience be prepared, should the cause arise, to fulfil a noble destiny, even as he himself, having from his tenth year borne arms under his father Hamilcar and brother-in-law Hasdrubal, had been prepared for the mighty role which, with the siege of Saguntum, he was now commencing to fill in the world’s history.

For the Greek city of Saguntum, on the eastern coast of Spain, was strictly allied with Rome, and the fact of Hannibal’s attacking it was, he well knew, equivalent to a commencement of a new war with mighty Rome herself.

Upon Hannibal’s departure for the siege of Saguntum some eight months previous, he had taken all the generals and captains in whom he could put trust and the greater part of the army with him. Although not styled a king, his power was at that time more than regal in all the parts of Spain south of the Ebro, and his authority as regards the care of the City of New Carthage itself he had, on his departure, delegated under his sign manual and seal absolutely to his daughter Elissa.

It is, then, no cause for wonder, if her female companions looked with some degree of awe and respect upon this sixteen-years-old girl who sat there so pensively dabbling her hands and feet in the marble basin, while raising her head occasionally to cast a glance through the embrasures on the battlemented walls surrounding the garden, upon the gulf below and the blue sea stretching out far beyond. Elissa had far sight, and it seemed to her once or twice as though she could make out, shining in the evening sun, far away upon the horizon, the white sails of ships. But they were no larger than specks, and soon disappeared altogether; therefore the maiden, thinking that she had been misled by some sea birds, soon gave up watching the sea, and returned to the apparent contemplation of the fishes, but really to the continuation of the reverie upon which she was engaged.

Meanwhile the ladies under the trees were chatting away merrily.

“Oh! dear me, how hot it is,” exclaimed the rotund little Princess Cœcilia, fanning herself vigorously with a palm leaf fan. “I am sure when my poor husband, Hasdrubal, built this city of New Carthage, he must have selected it purposely as being the warmest site in all Spain, just to remind him of his native country which he was so fond of. Or else,” she continued, “it was to try and keep down my inclination to fat. Oh! dear me!” and she fanned away at herself more vigorously than ever.

“Don’t call it fat,” interposed Cleandra, a very handsome fair young woman of about twenty, who was herself by no means inclined to be thin—“say rather adipose deposit, it is a far more elegant way of putting it.”

“Or plumpness, Cleandra, that is nicer still,” struck in Melania, a dark young beauty with vivacious black eyes, who was a year younger. “I wish I could call myself plump like thee, I am sure I should not mind the heat,” she added, “instead of being the scarecrow that I am,” and rising she surveyed with mock ruefulness her really very graceful figure. She was the tallest of all the young women there, and was perfectly well aware of the fact that her comparative slenderness was most becoming to her willowy and lissome figure.

“A scarecrow, thou a scarecrow,” almost screamed the little Cœcilia. “Oh! just listen to the conceited thing; why, thou hast a lovely figure and thou knowest it; there is none in all New Carthage, save Elissa yonder, who can compare to thee. But then, of course, no one can compare with her in any way. But what a girl she is! how can she sit out there in the afternoon sun like that? the worst kind of sun, my dears, for the complexion, I can assure you. I am sure if I were to remain like that for only five minutes I should lose my complexion entirely, yes, become perfectly covered with freckles I am certain, in even less than five minutes. Now what are you giggling at, you naughty girls? I declare you are too wicked, both of you; I shall have to report you to our Queen Regent yonder and ask her to put you both in the dungeon if you make fun of an old lady like me. Alas! thirty years of age, don’t you call that old?”

For with a sly glance at each other the two girls had mutually looked at the lively little princess’s manifestly artificial complexion which was trickling away in little runnels down her cheeks.

“I wonder what she is thinking about?” she interposed hastily, to turn away the merry girls’ attention from herself, and glancing across towards the lady Elissa.

“Who?” said Cleandra.

“Why, Elissa, of course,” replied that lady’s aunt. “Canst thou not see that she hath been in a brown study for ever so long? She is no more thinking of the fish than I am; her thoughts are miles and miles away. But just notice how pretty the ruddy tints are in her dark hair, lighted up like that by the afternoon sun.”

“Perhaps she is thinking of affairs of State,” answered Cleandra, “and whether she is to put us in that black hole or no.”

“Or, perhaps,” said Melania with a grain of malice, “and far more likely, she is thinking of the siege of Saguntum and whether a certain young officer of cavalry called Maharbal will ever come back from the war again to do what we girls cannot hope to do, that is cheer her in her solitude. I really should like to go and disturb her, she reminds me so of her namesake Dido—Elissa is Hebrew for Dido, thou knowest, Lady Cœcilia—mourning on the heights of Carthage for her lost Æneas.”

“I wonder what she sees in that Maharbal,” continued Melania, in a tone of pique; “a great big mountain of a hobbledehoy, that’s what I call him, and merely a prefect of the Numidian cavalry, too. Such assurance on his part to be always making love to her! I wonder that Hannibal allows it—a mere nobody!”

“A mere nobody! a hobbledehoy! nonsense!” said the princess, “thou’rt jealous, Melania, because he never looks at thee. Why, he is own nephew to Syphax, King of Massaesyllia, and cousin to the powerful Massinissa, King of Massyllia, both great Libyan princes.”

“Mere vassals of Carthage! and the last named not very trustworthy,” replied the other interrupting.

“Well then,” gabbled on the princess, “look at his strength, a hobbledehoy indeed; Maharbal is a regular Hercules, and hath a beautiful face just like the celebrated Hermes of Praxiteles. I think Elissa will be a very lucky girl if she weds a magnificent fellow like that; she will be the mother of a race of giants.”

“Shsh! Shsh!” cried both the girls, smiling in spite of themselves. “Elissa is listening to all we are saying—just look at her.”

“Yes, yes, you wicked people, and she hath been listening for the last quarter of an hour,” cried Elissa, springing to her feet as red as a rose. “But really, my aunt is too bad, she maketh me ashamed; say, what shall we do with her for punishment? put her in the fish pond I think.” Bounding across the open space, she playfully seized upon the merry little woman, and aided by the two others, dragged her in spite of her cries, screams, and vigorous resistance to the very brink of the marble basin. She struggled violently, and but with difficulty escaped her fate.

“Oh, dear me! think of my complexion—cold water in the afternoon is bad for it. Oh! I did not mean a word, dear Elissa. Oh, dear me, I shall die,” and with a vigorous final effort for freedom, as she was really a very strong young woman, suddenly she pushed both Elissa and Melania together over the brink so that they fell with a splash into the shallow pond. Then being left alone with the plump Cleandra, who had no strength whatever, she speedily overcame her, and threw her in after the others, remaining with torn garments and dishevelled hair, shrieking with laughter, and panting for breath on the bank.

“Now there is naught for us but to have a bathe,” cried Elissa gaily; and first drenching the princess with a shower of spray, and then springing up the marble steps, the three girls quickly threw off their thin, wet, clinging garments.

Standing there together in a pretty group for a brief minute or two, poised on the top of the marble steps, with arms raised in graceful curves while loosening the fillets of silver from the hair that fell in masses to the hips, they seemed in all their youthful beauty like the three graces personified.

At that very moment, from behind the trees, the sound was heard of a horse’s hoofs galloping on the turf, and in a second an armed warrior, mounted on a black charger covered with foam and utterly exhausted, appeared upon the scene. At the same time, a great sound of shouting was heard in the town without the garden walls, which shouting was taken up again and again, till the clamour seemed literally to fill the air. The shouting sounded like the cheers for victory.

The princess was the first to recover her composure.

“Why, it’s Maharbal,” she cried; “jump into the water, girls, instantly. Fancy his coming like that!” Then, rushing in front of the warrior, she wildly waved her hands at the horse, shouting, “Go back! Maharbal, go away, thou wicked man, go back. Dost not see that the girls are bathing?”

At that moment they all plunged into the water once more like frightened swans.

“In the name of Hannibal!” cried the young warrior, “let me pass. I must speak to Elissa, and instantly, or my head will fall,” and he held up Hannibal’s signet ring before the dripping princess’s astonished gaze.

“Oh!” screamed the princess, falling back affrighted. “Hannibal’s ring! Yes, of course, Hannibal’s orders are law.”

Maharbal advanced to the edge of the shallow pond. In this the maidens were now crouching and partially concealing themselves under some flags, but in spite of all, their heads and shoulders remained uncovered. Elissa and Cleandra faced Maharbal and strived to look dignified. Melania, on the other hand, had turned her back upon him.

Curiosity and anger combined caused her to turn her head, and she was the first to speak, as Maharbal, his charger beside him, stood upon the steps. Both she and Cleandra, of noble Iberian families by birth, were, although treated as of the family, but slave girls in Hannibal’s household, therefore she had no right to speak in the tone she now used, except the right of outraged modesty that every woman possesses.

“Begone! Maharbal, thou insolent wretch, begone instantly, or the Lady Elissa will have thee scourged and beheaded for thine impertinence. How darst thou insult us, thou ruffian? I wish that thou wert dead.”

At this instant, Maharbal’s war-horse, with a mournful kind of half scream, half sigh, fell upon the ground at the edge of the pond, and with a quiver of all its limbs expired. The warrior turned to watch it for a second, then looking back, remarked sadly: “My best charger, and alas! the third I have killed since yesterday morning. But there is no time for talk. Lady Elissa, my business is with thee alone, and it brooks absolutely not a moment’s delay. Wilt thou kindly direct thy slaves,” and he looked hard at Melania, “to leave the water at once. I must speak with thee alone. I obey the General’s strict orders.

“Pray be quick,” he added, “for I feel my strength rapidly failing me, and if I have not fulfilled my duty before, like my horse yonder, I die, I shall have failed in my vows to my General and to my country.”

He removed his helmet as he spoke, and all the three maidens noticed not only that the young man was turning deadly pale, but that a wound on the side of the head, which had been covered with coagulated blood, had broken out, and was bleeding violently afresh.

But he had yet strength to hand a garment, the first he found to hand, to Elissa, who, while attiring herself in the water, turned sharply to her attendants, and addressed them authoritatively.

“Leave the water, maidens, and let no false shame delay ye for a moment, for I see this is a matter of life or death. Begone at once, and thou, mine aunt,” she cried.

Like startled deer, the two girls, having recovered some of the scattered raiment, fled from the pond, and rushed within the palace, followed by the dishevelled Princess Cœcilia. But whether from being reminded thus forcibly that she was but a slave, or from a combination of feelings, no sooner had Melania reached her apartment than she burst into a flood of violent weeping. The princess was wringing her hands as she went, and talking aloud.

“Oh, dear me! this is very odd and very dreadful, and most improper! But poor Maharbal’s horse is dead, and he looks at death’s door himself. Oh! what hath happened? I hope Hannibal is not dead as well, or a prisoner, or anything awful. But nay! he hath sent his seal. But I must prepare a room for poor Maharbal to die in; where shall I get a bed big enough? what a long body he will be.” And so chattering to herself, for want of anyone else to talk to, she left Maharbal, the handsome young warrior, alone with the beautiful child of sixteen, the Lady Elissa.

CHAPTER II.
MAHARBAL.

The young warrior had sunk down upon the grass, and was leaning wearily upon his elbow by the time that, having partially robed herself, Elissa was able to issue from the pond and fly to his side. He seemed dying. Oblivious of all but the presence of the man whom in her heart she loved with all the spontaneity of a youthful, ardent nature, she not only thought of nothing but him, but she shewed it clearly by the look in her eyes and by her actions.

“Oh, Maharbal! Maharbal! look not thus. Dost thou not know that I love thee?”

She stooped over, seized his hand and pressed it to her lips, then, with part of her raiment which was lying at hand, she repeatedly bathed his brows with the cool water from the pond. But his eyes closed as though he were in a faint; whereupon she leant over, and in an agony of fear kissed him madly on the lips, muttering the while some incoherent loving words, and cooing in his ear. They were the first kisses that ever she had given to man, the virgin kisses of her beautiful lips. Her embraces brought him to himself. Despite the delight that shone in his eyes and the gratitude he felt at the unlooked-for favour, the wounded warrior had not by any means forgotten his duty. With returning consciousness he stretched out his hand and gently pushed her back.

“This is no time for kisses, Elissa; there is other work to be done. The State, thy father’s life, and thine own are to be considered; help me to sit up and to rest against my poor dead charger. There, that will do; now I feel better.”

For with all the might of her weak arms she had managed to drag rather than help him into a sitting posture, and place him with his back against the dead horse.

“Now sit by me and listen, and read what I have brought thee. First, take this seal from my finger; it is a duplicate of Hannibal’s signet ring. Here within my doublet I have a letter; canst thou get it? I have no strength left.”

Elissa felt for some time beneath the doublet with trembling fingers, but could not find the letter.

“Hold my hand and guide it,” he said, smiling faintly. Thus aided, he produced a sealed letter from under his leather jerkin. “Take my dagger and cut it open,” he said authoritatively.

She obeyed, trembling like the child she really was.

“Now read aloud, that I may know thou hast the meaning. But stay; first bathe my face once more, for I must keep my senses about me.”

Once more she plunged her garment into the cool water, and for a few minutes bathed his head and face. The young colossus gave a sigh, then seemed restored: the colour partly came back to his cheek.

“Now read!” he said; “read.”

But Elissa’s eyes were filled with tears, so that she could not read the triangular Punic characters.

“Read it to me thyself, Maharbal,” she answered at length, “for I cannot. There! I will hold it for thee; will that do?”

So he began:

“In the name of the Great God Melcareth, the Invisible God, the God of Tyre, of Sidon, the God of Carthage, Greeting. From Hannibal, the son of Hamilcar, Commander-in-Chief of the Carthaginian troops and Governor-General of Iberia, to his daughter Elissa, Regent and Governor of New Carthage.

“My daughter, these words are written by the hand of my scribe and friend, Silenus, but they will be sealed with my signet, which thou knowest, and thou canst verify the seal if so be they arrive in thy hands.

“They are sent by the hand of Maharbal, whose fidelity to me is assured. He also hath some liking for thee if I be not mistaken. Maharbal was wounded in yesterday’s action, but he is young, of great strength, and of a great courage; he may succeed in accomplishing the journey. No other but Maharbal in mine army could ride 2,000 stades without rest. Should he not succeed, the gods will not have willed it.

“Yesterday, oh, my daughter, after a siege of over eight months’ duration, we stormed and took the town and suburbs of Saguntum. The enemy fought to the last with the greatest courage, and our losses are very great.

“Several of my generals, including Hanno, who was the Commander of the Numidian Cavalry—he was killed in the pursuit of the fugitives—are dead. Most of the tribunes are dead or disabled, and, in short, there is scarce an officer of either cavalry or infantry who is not either dead or wounded. I myself am seriously wounded, but not dangerously. Maharbal was, by the favour of Melcareth, the means of preserving my life. He will now succeed Hanno as Commander of the Numidian Cavalry.

“Every male Greek in the city of Saguntum, no matter of what age, we have put to the sword. All the older women, that is all women over thirty, I have ordered to be sent out into the country to be an incumbrance to the tribes of their Iberian allies. All young matrons up to about the age of thirty, and all girls under that age, I have handed over to my troops to do with as they will. They will probably soon wish to sell them as slaves for the Carthaginian market. This refers to the Greek and also Roman women of all classes, from the wives and daughters of the generals and rich citizens down to the women of the lowest orders. For all are captives, and all are slaves in the hands of my officers and men. Every Iberian woman hath been allowed to go free. Every Iberian man hath likewise been granted his liberty. This clemency on my part will gain us many allies among the Celtiberians north of the river Iberus, whence most of these people came.

“Our spoils of war are enormous, although the citizens foolishly attempted to burn themselves with their goods in the marketplace, which folly was prevented by our rapid advance when the breaches were stormed. In saying burn themselves, I intended to convey that the male inhabitants, being Greeks, tried to burn their women and save themselves; this is the usual Greek custom. But the women were saved, and are now being consoled by my army. It is the men who sought to burn them by fire because they could not carry them away with them who are dead. This is all the news.

“Now, my daughter, I cease to write to thee as thy father, but as thy General I command thee. It is the Commander-in-chief writing to the Regent and Governor of New Carthage.

“Maharbal is charged to deliver unto thee this letter if he be alive, and if thou be alive. He is to find thee, and not to quit thee until thou readest this letter in his presence. Should he fail in this duty of his own fault, he will lose his head. Shouldest thou cause him to fail by thine own neglect of duty, thine own life will be at stake. For as Regent and Governor of New Carthage thou hast many lives in thine hands, and thou art answerable for all to me, thy commanding officer, and through me to the State.

“Now, know this, I have learned only this very day from some Roman emissaries captured by me, and since executed, that there is a plot against me in Carthage. Upon learning that I had attacked the city of Saguntum, contrary, it must be owned, to the treaty signed, from sheer inability to resist, after my father Hamilcar’s death, by my brother-in-law, thy late uncle Hasdrubal, the Roman Senate decided to send an embassy to Carthage to demand my surrender to Rome. That embassy departed quite recently, comparatively speaking, but found the party of Hanno, the late Suffete of Carthage, who was, in his lifetime, the enemy of Hamilcar, in the ascendant. Adherbal, the deceased Hanno’s eldest son, is now the head of that party. He entertained the Roman envoys handsomely, and, without any authority from the State, but merely in his private capacity as a citizen, promised them, when drunk, both the loss of my head, and the loss of thy virtue. He is a mere boaster, as was his father, who sought to have me sacrificed at the age of nine years to Moloch, and who, but for my own childish words, which saved him, would himself have been sacrificed instead. Yet, nevertheless, boasters sometimes succeed. For having boasted, they seek to make good their words, and the greatest success is often to those who attempt much. I am not, remember, writing now, oh! Elissa, as a father, but as thy Commander-in-chief, therefore hearken unto my words.

“Should the sacrifice of my head benefit my country, the enemy or the country are welcome to my head.

“Again! Should the sacrifice of thy virtue benefit thy country, the enemy or the country must be welcome to thy virtue. But here there is no sacrifice necessary. I therefore do not intend to lose my head, nor do I suggest unto thee that thou shouldst sacrifice thy virtue. Yet there is a deep-laid plot, and Melcareth alone, the great, the invisible God, knoweth whether Maharbal will reach thee in time to stay it.

“Being a man of war myself, and accustomed to open warfare from my very earliest youth, I love not the torture. Yet for once I praise the rack, since by it I have gained the secrets of this plot.

“Know then this. Without waiting for the decision in council of the Hundred, the party of Hanno are about to send, or have already despatched Adherbal, with a fleet strongly armed with rowers and many marines who are desperate, mere mercenaries drawn from the disbanded armies in Greece and Sicily, all ruffians of the very worst description. His intention is to obtain by fraud or force both possession of New Carthage and of thine own person, knowing me to be away at Saguntum. After that, through thee, he hopes to obtain possession of me also. I cannot tell if these words will reach thee in time or no, but thou art now, if they do reach thee in time, forewarned. Pay no attention to the false letters that Adherbal may bring thee; they are but a snare; he and all his accursed faction are but scheming against the State. In no case let him in mine absence, thou living, obtain possession of New Carthage or of thyself.

“As for Hannibal, thy father and thy commander, fear not for him. Do but thy duty in this crisis, oh, my daughter and my delegate!

“(Sealed) Hannibal.”

As Maharbal read the last lines of this letter, he pushed it back towards Elissa, who held it.

“Go!” he said, “go at once, heed not me. I saw the sails of Adherbal’s fleet as I rode up. Leave me instantly.”

“I saw them too!” cried the girl, “but I knew not what they were. Oh, beloved Maharbal! what if thou shouldst not survive? How can I leave thee thus?”

“Go! go at once,” replied Maharbal feebly, “send someone to me if thou choosest, but it is immaterial; go thou at once, do thy duty. Art thou not Regent and Governor of Carthage? Stay, kiss me once, an’ thou wilt, for indeed ’tis sweet, Elissa, my beloved, thus for once to feel thy kiss. Ah! now I can die in peace, but go, go! thine own honour, thy country, and the safety of Hannibal are all at stake.”

Leaving the imprint of her fervent kisses on his lips, she hastily departed.

The instant she had left him, Maharbal, the self-reliant young giant, who had hitherto kept himself up by mere force of will, went off into a dead swoon. For the blood had been continually oozing from the wound above his temple while he had been reading Hannibal’s letter, and moreover, he had not been out of the saddle or tasted food for forty-eight hours.

Thus it came to pass that when, shortly after, the lively little princess came out again, accompanied by Melania, they found the beautiful young man lying all alone, quite inert and apparently dead, by the side of his horse. And under his head was a large pool of blood. They had brought wine with them, and sought to force it between his lips, but the attempt was useless. They then strove to move him from where he was lying, but in vain. No assistance could be obtained from any of the men, for Elissa had issued orders to double all the guards, and placed every available man on duty on the ramparts or the quays. And so poor Maharbal lay bleeding and unconscious.

Meanwhile two bodies of men had been hastily employed in placing booms across the entrances to the harbour; other armed forces were drawn up in detachments upon the island and wharves, and on all sides of the entrances to the harbour, and a large fleet of vessels, flying the Carthaginian flag of a white horse on a purple ground, and consisting of fifty-two stately quinquiremes and twenty-two splendid hexiremes, all crowded with armed marines, in addition to the full crews averaging three hundred rowers apiece, being disappointed at finding the entrance to the harbour closed, was just heaving to, and casting its anchors in the open sea.

CHAPTER III.
FOREWARNED.

The City of New Carthage, built by Hasdrubal, the son-in-law of Hamilcar, with whose second wife and now disconsolate widow we have just made acquaintance, was most excellently situated, whether from an æsthetic or a strategic point of view.

It was built upon a hilly promontory jutting out into a gulf which lay towards the south-west. The two entrances to this gulf, which were separated by an island, were at a distance of about two thousand yards from the walls of the town, and were narrow enough to be easily commanded by a small body of defenders. The whole of the interior of the gulf formed a magnificent harbour.

At the back of the city, on the north-western or land side, there was situated a long lagoon. This had formerly been separated from the sea by a narrow isthmus, but Hasdrubal, who had, before his assassination, been aiming at royal power, had determined to make New Carthage his royal city, and in consequence as nearly impregnable as possible.

He had therefore cut a channel through this narrow isthmus, thus allowing the sea and the lagoon to join. And then he had bridged the channel with a wide and excellent bridge. This bridge was a short way from the gates of the city, and was the sole means of land communication with the rest of Spain. The gates were strongly fortified, and inside and near the walls were erected commodious barracks for the troops; a little beyond these barracks rose, on an eminence, a well-designed and formidable-looking citadel, above which proudly floated the Carthaginian ensign.

The town, as has been said, was hilly, and its designer had taken advantage of the natural features by making it as beautiful as possible. On every hill top stood a magnificent marble temple. On the most commanding hill of all, that which was due east, was reared the glorious temple to Æsculapius, while those to Moloch and Tanais or Tanith occupied other prominent sites. In every square and at every street corner were placed the most exquisite and costly statues, some of the purest of Parian marbles, and others of solid silver. Some of the richest silver mines in the then-known world lay close to Carthagena. The supply of the metal was apparently inexhaustible and unbounded. For there were not only no such sailors, but no such skilful miners in those days as the Phœnicians, who had, like the Greeks, formed peaceful settlements in Spain long before the first of the Punic wars.

By means of pipes coming under the lagoon from various high hills on the mainland, the supply of water in the town was abundant, and tinkling fountains, shaded by splendid plane trees, formed on every side picturesque rendezvous for the gossips of the town. In addition there were many excellent wells on the island itself which never ran dry.

For the situation of his own palace and court, in whose gardens we made the acquaintance of Hannibal’s daughter Elissa, Hasdrubal, who was eminently a man of genius, had selected the most advantageous site on the island, by taking in the whole of a flat-topped hill on the western side which overlooked the sea and country and all the city, except the temple to Æsculapius. Here he had reared the most beautiful and luxuriously-furnished edifice of which the architects of those days were capable; and from what Carthage was, and what Syracuse was, we know that their abilities were great. Graceful colonnades, wonderful mosaic-paved corridors and walls were everywhere; gorgeous saloons, filled with pictures and statues, formed banqueting halls or audience chambers; while the richly-furnished sleeping apartments had been designed with a view to comfort and æstheticism combined.

In one of these, in front of an open window facing south, the carved lattice fretwork of which was made of the sweet-scented cedar of Lebanon, and out of which she cast many anxious glances, stood Elissa, attiring herself as gorgeously as possible with the assistance of Cleandra, an old white-headed warrior in armour being also in attendance. The door of the apartment was closed and barred, and in addition heavy curtains were drawn across it, so that there could be no chance of a word that was said within the room being heard outside.

“And so, my good Gisco,” said Elissa, while putting on a magnificent chain of gold and emeralds, “thou dost estimate the numbers of the fighting men, leaving the rowers on one side, at about eight thousand, dost thou not? I should have thought there had been more. Why, just see how their spears glisten in the sun where they are crowded together on the decks.”

“I did not say they had only eight thousand men, Lady Elissa,” answered the old Prefect Gisco, a faithful and rugged old retainer of Hamilcar and Hannibal, who had risen from the ranks and was now the captain of the garrison of Carthagena. “They must, calculating a hundred and twenty-five marines to each ship, have at least considerably over nine thousand fighting men with them; but, as they would leave at least a thousand on board as a guard to the ships, they would, if they strove to make a landing, disembark, say, about eight thousand. But they will not seek to land this evening by force without a parley first, and even if they should do so, we could defend the two entrances to the harbour to the last. They could never get in to-night without fighting at a disadvantage. We have, after all, got six hundred well seasoned soldiers, who will take a lot of killing; and then we have three hundred more of the wounded and convalescents, who came down two months ago from Saguntum. They can bear a hand, and a very useful one too, as many of them are Balearic slingers, who will prove most deadly to men in boats.”

“And what about to-morrow, oh, most sapient Gisco, when all our men are dead?” asked Elissa, smiling the while, and examining her pearly teeth in the mirror of polished and burnished gold, which Cleandra was holding up before her. “But I agree with thee; I do not think this Adherbal will dare to attack Carthaginians without a parley. He will first try to obtain possession of myself and New Carthage in some other way. No,” she continued, “we must have no fighting. We can do better than that, I think, and yet save the situation both for Hannibal and for the country’s welfare. It will be far better than Carthaginians fighting against Carthaginians. I have, too, other and better use to which to place those mercenaries in the ships with Adherbal.”

The old soldier looked at the young Regent with a puzzled expression, and waited for an explanation. Elissa smiled enigmatically.

“Listen carefully now, oh! Gisco,” she added, while putting up each of her little feet in turn upon an ivory and ebony stool for Cleandra to fasten her jewelled sandals. “Listen, and I will disclose to thee the details of my plot, by which I believe that we shall avoid any fighting, for I think by this time to-morrow it will be a case of the biter bit. But before I tell thee my plans, inform me, my good Gisco, how much time we have before it will be possible for Adherbal to land?”

Gisco looked out of the window over the gulf to the sea.

“The current that sets this evening out of the lagoon and the gulf is just now flowing out to sea with its greatest force, the ships are anchored at a considerable distance from the shore, and the breeze is blowing strong off the land. Even if he were to attempt to row ashore now, Adherbal could not reach the booms under an hour. He is evidently aware of that fact, and is waiting for the slack tide, for I see a large galley, with a flag in the stern, lying alongside the largest of the ships.”

“Then we have plenty of time,” said Elissa, and rapidly she disclosed her plans to Gisco. Then she sent him off to convey the necessary instructions to the officers, who were waiting for him outside, bidding him return instantly and have a herald waiting for her with a State barge and a crew of swift rowers at the steps below the palace.

Meanwhile, she dictated a letter to Cleandra, which she sealed with Hannibal’s signet-ring, given to her by Maharbal. Another letter she wrote herself, and signed with her own seal of office as Regent and Governor of New Carthage.

By the time these two letters were ready, old Gisco had returned to inform her that the State galley was waiting at the steps.

“And further,” he added with a smile, “all the preparations for the fulfilment of thy clever plans are ready, oh! Lady Elissa. Ah, me! to think of the cunning contained in that little woman’s head of thine!” And he looked admiringly at her, while the young girl flushed with pleasure at the compliment.

“Come, Cleandra,” she called, “we must go. But first let us see what they have done for poor Maharbal.”

Maharbal had been carried in by Gisco’s orders, and was now lying on a couch in a comfortable apartment, attended by Melania and the Princess Cœcilia. A learned leech was feeling his pulse, but they saw that he was still quite unconscious.

Elissa heaved a sigh, then beckoning to her aunt to follow, left the room.

“My aunt,” she said, changing from the soft Punic tongue, in which she had been conversing with the old Prefect Gisco, to the Iberian or Spanish dialect, which the ladies of the household, being all either half or wholly Iberians, used habitually among themselves; “my aunt, grave tidings are to hand, or, rather, both grave and good tidings. Saguntum has fallen, and Hannibal is wounded. The shouting we heard in the town, as we were surprised by Maharbal, was doubtless caused by his informing the guards as he passed the city gates of the fall of that city. It is uncertain”—here she was purposely deceiving her aunt, whose tongue she feared—“exactly how long it is since the town of Saguntum fell; but about a week more or less, so I judge from a letter I have received from my father Hannibal. Further, we may expect to see some of his advanced guard of returning troops almost at once; perchance indeed this very day some of them may arrive. But that is not the grave part of my news—a large fleet hath arrived from Carthage, and is now lying anchored without the Gulf. It is under the command of Adherbal, the son of Hanno, one of a family that never bore good will to my father or my uncle, thy husband’s house. I fear they come with no good design. Nevertheless, we must make a show of entertaining the General Adherbal and his principal followers as well; and I am about to invite them to come here and to pass the night. Therefore, while I am away, I pray thee make suitable preparations for a becoming repast, and see ye that chambers are prepared. As the evenings are now long, and it is, moreover, fresher without than within, I pray thee also to be kind enough to have the repast spread upon the western balcony beneath the colonnade.”

The foolish little princess, in a flutter of excitement, was about to ask a thousand questions; but Elissa, giving her no time to talk, merely waved her hand and departed, accompanied by Cleandra and the Prefect Gisco.

Passing through a postern gate in the wall of the palace, they descended by a wide flight of marble stairs to a landing-stage at the foot, where was lying moored a magnificent, gilded barge, the prow of which was shaped like the head and wings of a swan. By the side of this a gorgeously-clad herald awaited them. He bowed low as the party approached, and the youthful Regent and Governor of New Carthage beckoned him to join them, out of earshot of the sailors who formed the crew.

“Sir Herald,” she said, delivering to him the two letters, “thou wilt accompany us to the steps at the mouth of the harbour where we shall land. Thou wilt then proceed to the ship of the Admiral of the fleet which is lying without the harbour, and deliver to him these two letters with my greetings. In reply to all questions make only one answer, namely, that tidings have come that the city of Saguntum fell over a week ago—fell more than a week ago, dost understand? With reference to everything else, plead ignorance.”

Entering the barge, followed by Cleandra and Gisco, who gave a short word of command to the crew, they were, a moment later, being borne swiftly down the waters of the gulf, and very soon arrived at the disembarking steps on the south side of the entrance to the harbour, where a large body of spearmen, who had been standing about on the quay, fell into rank as they saw the State barge approaching. As the young girl disembarked, they received her with the same salute as they would have given to their Commander-in-Chief Hannibal himself.

The young girl acknowledged the salute by a bow, and never, perhaps, had she looked so noble and dignified. Her dress was calculated to enhance her beauty and dignity. She was attired in a chiton of purple silk, with a broad hem at the bottom, which, as well as a band at the edge of the loose-hanging sleeves, was of white silk, trimmed with rich, golden braid. On her dark tresses was now poised a small diadem of gold, inlaid with rubies and pearls. Two large drops of single pearls were in her ears, while on her arms, both above and below the elbow, were clasped costly bands of purest gold. On her slender fingers she wore many beautiful rings, while round her neck hung the long chain of emeralds, which has been already mentioned. Cleandra also was upon this occasion very richly attired in white and silver, which suited well her fair complexion. Her jewels and ornaments were likewise costly and becoming; for although by the fortune of war she had become a slave, she was ever allowed by Elissa, who loved her, to dress in a style befitting the princely Iberian family from which she had sprung.

After acknowledging the salute, Elissa walked along the ranks of the soldiers, addressing a word here and there, complimenting one upon his soldierly appearance, and another on the brilliancy of his arms and accoutrements. By this tact, and the gentle ways which she had always displayed in her dealings with the soldiery left under her command, she had long ago won the heart of every man among the troops, and there was not that day an officer or man present who would not have willingly fought for her to the death.

When she had concluded her inspection, she caused Gisco to form up the troops close round her in a circle. Owing to their numbers, this circle was many files in depth; but the young Regent wished all to hear what she had to say.

A bundle of merchandise which was lying on the quay she caused to be placed in the middle of the circle of warriors, and, mounting thereon, she addressed the men:

“Soldiers of Carthage, I have glorious news to announce to you. Maharbal, the Prefect of the Numidian Horse, hath ridden through with tidings from our General and Commander-in-chief, my father Hannibal, that he hath captured Saguntum; and not only hath he put all the garrison to the sword, but seized an enormous booty in treasures and slaves, of which booty, no doubt, you, my faithful garrison, will receive your portion. The number of female Greek slaves captured is, so Hannibal writes, almost unlimited.”

Upon hearing these words, the assembled troops broke into such a burst of cheering that the crews on the ships lying out in the roads wondered exceedingly at the cause. But Elissa had purposely appealed to the baser feelings of her audience. Having allowed a few minutes for the natural ebullition of feeling, the fair young orator raised her hand as a sign, and instantly silence was restored.

“I grieve,” she continued, “to say that our losses have been heavy, and that Hannibal is sorely, although not dangerously, wounded. But, soldiers of Carthage, a worse danger threatens Hannibal; a worse danger threatens all of us, guardians here of our country’s honour; a far worse danger threatens me myself than that of an open foe, and that danger is from yonder powerful fleet, bearing our own country’s flag, now lying at anchor but a distance of some five or six stades from our shore. Alas! that it should be so; but it is true; deceit is hidden beneath those banners of Carthage, dishonour and fraud menace us and our country alike from the warships upon which they are flying. Men of Carthage, brave soldiers of Hannibal, will ye help me to frustrate that fraud, will ye assist me to defeat the schemes of dishonour which are laid, not only against us all collectively, as the keepers for Hannibal of New Carthage, but more particularly against that which it is meditated to put upon me personally? A plot hath been hatched against the honour of a young girl who hath only your brave arms and noble hearts to rely upon for her safety. Will ye help me?”

“We will! we will! We will die for thee and thine honour, Elissa; we will die for Hannibal. Confusion to the miscreants!”

Such were the hoarse cries that rose from every throat, while in their rage the soldiers beat upon their shields with their spears for want of an enemy upon whom they could wreak their fury.

Once more the maiden, whose cheeks had reddened, and whose heart beat tumultuously at the noise and the shouting, raised her shapely hand, and again silence fell upon the crowd.

“I thank ye all, my soldiers. I thank each and every one.” She spoke with visible emotion. “Now hearken attentively to my words, for time is short. Our forces are small, while those on yonder fleet are large. Yet, indeed, I know that, should it come to fighting, ye will fight most valiantly, and to the death if need be. But I am not prepared, nor do I intend, unless the worst comes to the worst, that ye should throw away your lives in an unequal battle with yonder mercenaries. Nay, all of ye have long to live, if ye but implicitly trust in me and obey unquestioningly the commands that will be put upon you. Thus, even should the orders that ye will shortly receive appear unmeaning and futile, and should a long night and morning of apparently useless marching and work be your portion, yet rely upon me. Nothing that ye do will be without cause, but all for the common welfare.

“For seeing our weakness, if we would not be crushed, we must meet guile with guile, deceit with deceit. And we will see by to-morrow’s morn whose plans are the most successfully laid; those of the crafty general clad in golden armour, whom I can now see stepping into his galley from the flag ship yonder, or those of Hannibal’s daughter, the young maiden who now asks you to trust her.”

“We trust thee! we trust thee, oh, Elissa!” cried all the soldiers vociferously.

“Then, that is good. One command I lay upon ye all, officers and men alike: avoid all discourse, if possible, with any who should land from the ships. But if, from their superior rank, ye cannot avoid answering the questions of any, then say simply this, no more nor less, that Saguntum fell more than a week ago, and that part of Hannibal’s troops are expected to march into Carthagena shortly. I have done. Now, Captain Gisco, wilt thou give orders to reform the ranks, tell off the troops for the guard of honour, and carry out the instructions that thou knowest?”

Swiftly, and in order, the troops reassumed their original formation, while Elissa, somewhat heated and fatigued after her efforts of oratory, had the bale of merchandise upon which she had been standing, moved to the water’s edge, and seated herself where she could get the sea breeze and watch what was going on outside the gulf.

Meanwhile, the boom having been opened wide enough to admit of the passage of boats, the herald had passed through with the barge of State and conveyed the two letters to the hexireme, which he rightly conjectured to be the ship of the commander of the fleet. He was met at the gangway by an officer, who instantly conveyed him to where Adherbal was sitting under a crimson awning. He was surrounded by several officers clad like himself in golden armour, which, with the rich wine cups standing about, betokened that they were all members of the body of élite already mentioned, and known in Carthage as the Sacred Band.

Adherbal himself was a dark, very powerfully built, and handsome man of about thirty. He was continually laughing and showing his white teeth, and seemed to be generally well contented with his own person. But his smiles were too many, and his bonhomie often deceptive, for, although he was personally brave, he was nevertheless at heart a thorough villain. His wealth being unbounded, he had been hitherto always able to indulge to the utmost in the debauchery in which he revelled, and there was no baseness or fraud to which, by means of his wealth, he had not frequently descended, in the pursuit of women of immaculate life and high station in Carthage. He was the leader of the most dissolute band of young nobles in all Carthage, and his high rank and station alone as Commander of the Sacred Band, and as the head of the now paramount family in that city, had hitherto been the means of his immunity from punishment in any way, either for his own notorious escapades or for those of the followers who consorted with him, and who, under his protection, vied with each other in imitating his iniquities. Among these companions it had frequently been his boast that there was no woman, no matter of what rank or family, upon whom he had cast his eyes, who had not, sooner or later, either by force or fraud, become his victim. And these boasts were, unfortunately, true; many a family having been made miserable, many a happy home made wretched by his unbridled license and wickedness. It was during a drinking bout to which he had invited the Roman envoys, and when he was boasting as usual in his cups, that Ariston, one of his companions, jealous of his success where some woman, whom he himself fancied, was concerned, had taunted him before all those assembled.

“Oh, yes!” said Ariston banteringly, “we all know that thou art a sad dog, Adherbal, and that here in Carthage thou wilt soon be compelled to weep like Alexander, because thou hast no more worlds left to conquer. For soon, doubtless, either all the maidens will be dead for love of thee, or else all the fathers of families or the husbands of pretty wives will have destroyed them to preserve them from thee. And yet, for all that, I venture to state that there is one Carthaginian family, whose dishonour thou wouldst more willingly compass than any other, where even such a seductive dog as thyself can never hope for success, and whose honour, despite all thine arts, shall always remain inviolable. And yet, if report says true, there is a beautiful young maiden in that family, one so lovely, indeed, that not one of all those who have hitherto felt thy kisses can be mentioned in the same breath with her. But she is not for thee, oh, Adherbal! thou most glorious votary of Tanais; no, this is game, my noble falcon, at which even thou darest not to fly.”

“For whom, then, is this pretty pigeon reserved, my good Ariston? Is it, perchance, for thine own dovecote that she hath the distinguished honour of being reserved? Well, here’s to thy success!”

Thus he answered, scornfully tossing off a huge bumper of wine.

“No, not for me either,” replied Ariston; “it is not for me to rashly venture in where the bold Adherbal dares not even place a foot within the doorway. But I am sorry for thee, Adherbal, for the pretty bird would well have suited thy gilded cage in the suburbs of the Megara.”

“I will wager thee five hundred talents that thou liest, Ariston,” replied the other, inflamed with wine, and irritated at the banter which was making the other boon companions laugh at his expense. “I will wager thee five hundred silver talents,” he repeated, “that there is no family in Carthage where, if it so please me, I dare not place a foot; there is no quarry upon whom I dare not swoop, if I so choose, ay, nor fail to bear off successfully to mine eyrie in the Megara. But name this most noble family, pray, name this peerless beauty of thine, and we will see,” and he laughed defiantly, and took another deep draught of wine.

“I said not a family in Carthage, I said a Carthaginian family,” answered Ariston, purposely provoking and tantalising him. “I spoke of a more beautiful girl than either thou or any one at this festive board hath ever yet seen.”

But now the curiosity of all the other convives, including the Roman envoys, was aroused.

“The name, the name!” they cried tumultuously; “name the family and name the girl.”

“The family is that of Hannibal; the girl whose favours even Adherbal dareth not seek to obtain is Elissa, Hannibal’s daughter.”

“Hannibal! Hannibal’s daughter!”

A hushed awe fell upon the assembled guests as they repeated these words. Then they burst out into a roar of drunken laughter, and taunted the boaster.

“Ha! he hath got thee there, Adherbal; thou hadst better pay up thy five hundred talents to Ariston at once and look pleasant, and seek thy revenge another day.”

But Adherbal, furious at the banter and the mention of the hated name of Hannibal, had sprung to his feet, wine cup in hand.

“I double my wager,” he cried; “not five hundred, but one thousand talents do I now stake, that by some means or other I gain absolute possession of the girl. Nay, further, I solemnly vow, by Astarte, Moloch, and Melcareth, to whom I pour out this libation of wine, to bring her father Hannibal’s head also, and lay it at the feet of these, our guests, the Roman envoys. I do not think that, seeing the mission upon which they have arrived in Carthage, I could promise them a more acceptable present. But secrecy must be preserved.”

The speech was received with deafening applause by all present, all being of the anti-Barcine party, and ways and means were immediately discussed.

CHAPTER IV.
FOUR CARTHAGINIAN NOBLES.

Adherbal and his companions received the herald insolently, without rising.

“Well, fellow,” he said, “how comes it that thou darest to trust thy person upon my ship when thy companions yonder have thought fit to bar the entrance to their harbour to Carthaginian ships?”

Although the herald’s face flushed, he made an obeisance, but no other reply than:

“I bring two letters for my lord.”

“From whom are they, fellow?”

“They were given me for my lord by the Regent and Governor of New Carthage.”

“And who is the Regent and Governor of New Carthage?”

“Elissa, my lord, daughter of Hannibal, the Commander-in-Chief and Governor-General in Iberia.”

“Elissa, thou knave, thou liest, by Baal Hammon. Why, from all reports she is but a girl. How old is she?”

“I do not know the Regent’s age, my lord.”

“And are both these letters from this precious Regent?”

“I know not, my lord.”

“Wilt answer me this at once, or for all thy fine clothes I will have thee ducked in the water alongside. Was it by the orders of this quean of a girl that those booms were thrown across the harbour mouths?”

“I have not the honour of being in the Regent’s confidence, my lord. Maybe that my lord will get the information that he requires on perusal of these two letters which I have the honour to present to his lordship.”

And with another obeisance the herald presented them to Adherbal, who tossed them carelessly on the table before him, and called for a cup of wine.

A loud laugh from one of the young nobles seated negligently close by here interrupted the colloquy; he was evidently in a jovial mood, and in no awe of the general.

“Upon my word, Adherbal, I think the fellow’s right, and by Astarte, the sweet goddess of love, he got thee that time. He seems a model of discretion, at all events. I think that while thou art discussing thy stoup of wine, I had better take him in hand a bit and see if I can make him a little more communicative. Look here, my fine fellow, how many women have they up in the palace there on the hill, and are they fond of love, and are they pretty, and are there any men there making love to them, and who is the lover of this Regent and daughter, or I don’t know what you call her, of New Carthage? And is there any chance for a good-looking fellow like me, Imlico, the son of Mago, or for an ugly fellow like that Ariston yonder, son of—who art thou the son of, Ariston? the wine hath caused me to forget completely thy distinguished parentage. Or again, think ye, Sir Herald, that there is to be found within this precious town a distinguished-looking female who could reciprocate the loving glances of my portly friend here, the noble Zeno, formerly of Rhodes? A very firebrand of love is Zeno, and the very prince of good fellows. I daresay thou art a good enough fellow thyself, by the bye. Take a cup of wine and think of all my questions and answer them afterwards. Take thou mine own goblet, ’tis but newly filled; and are we not both Carthaginians? I wager thee ’tis the first time ever thou drankest from a golden cup belonging to one of the Sacred Band.”

And he handed the cup to the herald, who, fearful of offending, took and drank slowly, sip by sip, as if he were a connoisseur, thus obviating the necessity for the reply which Imlico awaited patiently.

“Sayest thou nought?” said the somewhat stout noble called Zeno. “Tell me, Sir Herald, what is the news from Saguntum?”

“Saguntum fell more than a week ago,” answered the herald readily.

“Saguntum fallen, by Pluto!” exclaimed Adherbal, who had been getting moody and sulky over his wine, and was sitting with a frown on his face.

“And what news of Hannibal?” asked Ariston, thinking that his turn had now come for a question.

“Some of Hannibal’s troops are expected in from Saguntum very shortly,” answered the herald once more, with equal readiness.

“Hannibal’s troops coming in shortly! This is getting interesting with a vengeance!” said Adherbal. “I think I had better read the letters without further delay.”

Taking a jewelled dagger from his waist, he rapidly cut the silken threads which, fastened down with a seal, closely held each of the letters. He examined the signatures.

“I suppose ye drunken fellows would like to know what they are both about?” he observed familiarly. “Will ye that I read them aloud? One of them is, I see, from Hannibal, yea, the mighty Hannibal himself! How knew he I was here? The other is likely to be much more interesting, it is apparently from my lovely mistress that is to be, for it is signed and sealed by Elissa, Regent and Governor of New Carthage. Which shall I read first?”

“Elissa’s, of course,” cried out the three semi-drunken nobles of the Sacred Band.

“Then I shall disappoint you,” said Adherbal, “and keep Elissa’s letter to the last. Sweets should always come after solid food. So for Hannibal first, and may curses light upon his father’s grave.”

Utterly careless of the presence of the herald, or the mercenaries and officials of the ship, who from curiosity had been thronging round as close as they dared, to stare at the herald, Adherbal read loudly, but in a voice slightly thickened from the effects of drink, the letter which Elissa had dictated and sealed with her father’s signet:—

“In the name of the great Melcareth, the God of Tyre, of Sidon, and of Carthage, greeting.

“From Hannibal, the son of Hamilcar, Commander-in-Chief and Governor-General of the Carthaginian Provinces in Iberia, to the Lord Adherbal, the son of Hanno.

“My lord, I captured the town of Saguntum some seven days since, and learned from some Roman prisoners that thou wert coming to New Carthage with a fleet containing numerous troops for my reinforcement. I thank thee for this mark of friendship, and the more so as I was not aware that thou hadst forgotten or forgiven the old party feud between thy father, Hanno, and my father, Hamilcar. I shall be glad of thy reinforcement, for this siege hath wasted my troops sorely, and much fatigued those that are not wounded, the greater part of whom I am sending to New Carthage at once to recruit after the fatigues of constant battle.

“As, owing to a wound, I shall myself remain here in occupation of Saguntum with but a small force for some time, I shall be glad of thy immediate presence hither, with all thy force to help, in case of a rising of the Celtiberians, to serve as a garrison. Therefore, after resting thyself and thine officers for a day or two at New Carthage, where my daughter, Elissa, my sister-in-law, Cœcilia, Princess of the Cissanians, and the various ladies of my daughter’s household will give thee and thine all becoming entertainment in my palace, I beg thee to proceed with thy fleet hither at once. This movement will be also vastly to the interest of thyself, of thine officers, and of the soldiers accompanying thee. For the amount of our spoils of war is so immense that the like of it hath never been seen in any war of which we have any record. Leaving on one side the enormous amount of gold, silver, and valuables; the number of young Greek women, whom we hold at present prisoners in our camp, exceeds by at least three to one the number of the whole army, and by about six to one the number of the unwounded or the convalescents. All the troops, among whom these Greek women have been divided, are already, owing to the expense of their keep, anxious to sell them for ready money, of which, owing to the lack of remittances of pay from Carthage, they are greatly in need. Many of the younger Greek girls are of excessive beauty, and as my soldiers will be prepared to sell them for a small sum, thou canst easily see what a large profit there is to be made by thine officers and soldiers should they come to Saguntum and buy them. For when the ships of thy fleet return, after due repose in Saguntum, the slaves can be sent in the hands of merchants to Carthage and sold again. Further, I have very large cargoes of valuables of every description to remit to the Government of Carthage, of which naturally thou, my lord, and all thine officers and crews would retain considerable shares. Therefore, my lord, I repeat that thy coming to Saguntum without delay is advisable, for the amount of booty we have is enormous beyond all calculation.

“(Signed and Sealed) Hannibal.”

After the reading aloud of this epistle, there was much laughter and jesting among the four nobles on the deck at Hannibal’s expense. They made fun of his apparent gullibility with reference to the object of their expedition; they indulged in the lewdest of jests about the ladies left in the palace, with whom, apparently so innocently, Hannibal suggested they were to stay for a few days, and discussed the necessity, if troops were to arrive from Saguntum, of going ashore at once. They talked openly, for they were all flushed with wine, of the ease with which the object of their visit to New Carthage seemed likely to be accomplished, and how, further, they would easily seize and capture Hannibal himself at Saguntum. Meanwhile, the troops who were crowded on the decks around were listening to every word.

“Now, let us see Elissa, my little sweetheart’s, letter,” said Adherbal gaily. It ran as follows:—

“In the name of Tanais, Queen of Heaven, Queen of Love, Queen of the Seas, greeting.

“From Elissa, daughter of Hannibal, Regent and Governor of New Carthage, to Adherbal, the son of Hanno.

“My lord, we are but a few poor women here, and regret that we have not to-night the wherewithal to entertain a large force in the place. Further, seeing my lord’s ships in the distance, I imagined that a Roman fleet was coming to attack New Carthage in revenge for the siege of Saguntum. Therefore, I caused booms to be drawn across the entrances to the harbour. But a letter from Hannibal hath informed me of thy coming. To-morrow morning, should my lord wish to bring his fleet into the harbour, the booms will be removed. In the meantime, will my lord, bringing such nobles and retainers as are becoming to his dignity with him, honour our poor palace with his noble presence?

“My lord, we have but a few troops here, or would have drawn up an army to salute thee on arrival. Some of Hannibal’s troops, however, will arrive to-morrow morning, some also may arrive to-night. To-morrow we will hold a grand review in my lord’s honour. My lord, thou art welcome to New Carthage. The sight of a few noblemen of rank from our mother-country will be in sooth a delight to our eyes.

“We inhabitants of Iberia have not, alas, yet learned all the arts to charm that are owned by the ladies of Carthage; but our hearts are warmly inclined in advance to those who come from our own country. My lord, it is for thee and the nobles of thy suite to come and teach us what demeanour we had best assume to be most agreeable. We are young, we are innocent and untutored provincials, but we are prepared nevertheless willingly to learn the ways of Carthage.

“Will my lord send by my herald an immediate reply to say if we may expect his noble presence with us to-night? I am awaiting my herald, and my lord himself, on the quay.

“(Sealed and Signed)

“Elissa, Regent and Governor of New Carthage.”

There was great excitement among the four dissolute young nobles, who wished to go ashore at once upon the reading of this letter. The herald, who had been trembling in his shoes for his own safety, was thereupon instantly despatched with a hasty note to say that Adherbal with the three nobles and a few men of his suite were coming ashore without delay. For, fatuous individuals as they were, they were completely taken in by Elissa’s letter, and imagined that they had but to go on shore to capture, not perhaps the town of New Carthage that night, but certainly the hearts of all the principal ladies in the palace. And it must be owned that both her own epistle, and that purporting to come from Hannibal, were sufficient to mislead less self-confident schemers than Adherbal and his friends. But the heart of the leader was full of the deepest guile, for all his apparent simplicity, and he laid his plans before landing.

Before the arrival of the herald at the landing steps, Adherbal and his party accordingly started from their ship also. They came in two large boats, the first containing the four nobles, the second, some forty men with two officers who were to form his escort. These boats arrived simultaneously at the quay steps, where a guard of honour, drawn up in two lines, consisting of one hundred spearmen, awaited them and greeted them with the highest salute. When they had passed down between the ranks, they found Elissa, with Cleandra standing a pace behind her, and, behind them again, Gisco and other officers waiting to receive them.

Smiling sweetly, the young girl advanced confidently to greet them.

“Welcome to New Carthage,” she said, “oh citizens of Old Carthage.”

Adherbal, bowing with all the grace for which he was famous, took her hand and respectfully placed his forehead upon it in the Punic style; then he presented his three companions, Imlico, Zeno, and Ariston, as his friends, and Elissa in return presented Cleandra.

The beauty of the two ladies quite astonished the four young nobles; but it was with their eyes only that they could speak what they felt.

CHAPTER V.
PLOTS AND COUNTER-PLOTS.

Despite the confidence with which Hannibal’s daughter had advanced to greet the new-comers, it is not to be supposed that she felt as bold as she looked. Her heart was beating violently as, with a smile upon her lips, she greeted the gorgeous strangers glittering in their golden armour. Nor is this to be wondered at, for well she knew the terrible risks that she ran, and the perfidy hidden in the breast of the handsome young Adherbal, who was now gazing upon her with such ardent admiration in his bold, piercing eyes, that, in spite of herself, she felt herself blushing a little as she lowered her own lids before his too evident admiration of her youthful charms.

But she speedily diverted his attention from herself by suggesting that the nobles should follow her in their own boats to her palace steps, saying that she would lead the way. She purposely did not ask them to accompany her, for she wished to have time to think and talk with Cleandra on the way home.

“What dost thou think of them, Cleandra?” she inquired, as soon as they started.

“I think that they are all very handsome young men, and most beautifully attired; Adherbal himself and Imlico are especially handsome, and they seem to have pleasant ways. I do not think it possible they can have the evil designs that we imagine.” For Cleandra, who was young and impressionable, had been caught at once by a few pretty compliments that the versatile Imlico had already found time to pay her.

“Be on thy guard in spite of their pleasant ways, dear Cleandra,” replied the younger and more prudent girl; “for what is the use of being forewarned by Hannibal if we are not forearmed? Nothing can make me trust them. Why, think ye, are they come hither with all their fleet had their designs been good, instead of proceeding at once to help Hannibal at Saguntum?”

This reply was convincing, and the rest of the way to the palace steps was passed by the girls in silence.

Here, and about the palace itself, there was purposely, by Elissa’s orders, but a very small guard waiting to receive them.

The Carthaginians, arriving with their two boats, noticed this fact with satisfaction. Their leader sprang to shore in time to gallantly offer his hand to Elissa, which she gracefully accepted, apologising at the same time with apparent naïveté.

“Thou seest, General Adherbal, that we have but a poor show of retainers with whom to welcome thee here. But the reason is plain. Being but a woman, alone in the palace, and having ever before me the traditions of the horrible outrages committed by the mercenaries, who revolted in Hamilcar’s and thy father Hanno’s time, I prefer to employ all the extra soldiers about the city walls. I only, during Hannibal’s absence, maintain a guard of some forty men in all to protect the approaches, the gates, and the palace itself. For what have I to fear?”

“What, indeed?” replied Adherbal, taking the opportunity to gently press the little hand that rested on his arm. “Where beauty and virtue such as thine reign supreme, fair lady Elissa, what harm could come to the palace that contains such a treasure?” And he looked into her eyes as if he meant his words.

Elissa, paying no attention to the compliment, continued:

“I see, my lord, that thou hast some baggage with thee. We have, I trust, despite our small retinue, enough men to spare thy followers the trouble of disembarking it themselves, which would be but an inhospitable proceeding. Further, our few soldiers can entertain thy followers this evening.”

“Baggage? no, my lady Elissa, of that we have but little. Yet have I ventured to bring ashore, as an unworthy offering to my fair hostess, a few flagons of the most famous vintages of the old wine for which the vineyards of Utica are famous. Wilt thou deign to accept it for thyself and thine household?”

“Most willingly, noble Adherbal, will I accept thy kindly gift. It will be, indeed, a pleasant change to the household after the thin wines of Iberia; and, though we ladies are but small drinkers, we shall look forward to pledging our noble guests in a cup ourselves this very evening.”

Upon reaching the head of the marble stairs, the herald, who had returned with the State barge, sounded a clarion blast. Instantly the postern gate flew open, the sentry saluting as the party entered, to find, standing upon the porticos of the palace awaiting them, the Princess Cœcilia and Melania in their grandest robes, with several pretty female slaves behind them. Adherbal exchanged with Ariston and Zeno a meaning glance, which they both perfectly understood; but Imlico was so taken up with Cleandra, to whom he was making violent love, that he did not catch the leader’s meaning looks. Elissa, however, noticed them, and explained that, as there were so few men available, what men there were would be exclusively employed in entertaining his own escort.

The Princess Cœcilia was all smiles. She looked, as she really was, delighted to see some strangers of the male sex, and those strangers, too, of such evident high rank, and wearing such gorgeous accoutrements. She was an exceedingly good-natured, but a foolish young woman, and she showed her folly in the extra warmth of her welcome. Finding that none of the other three nobles seemed to respond very much, or rather that Zeno responded much more warmly than the others to her politeness, it was upon him chiefly that she showered her attentions. As for Ariston, from the moment that he set eyes upon Melania, he could look at nothing else.

The guests were promptly shown to gorgeous and most luxuriously furnished sleeping apartments, with the intimation that a collation awaited them, as soon as they were ready, on the west verandah. In a short time, therefore, the nobles, all having doffed their armour, with the exception of a dagger in a golden waist-belt, appeared in most beautiful silken raiment, the very latest fashion from Carthage. And just as the sun was beginning to set over the western horizon, the eight convives sat down to a sumptuous repast, served by light-footed female attendants. They reclined on divans at a round table, Adherbal on the right side of Elissa, then the princess, next to her Zeno, then Melania and Ariston, next to whom came Cleandra and Imlico.

From the situation in which Adherbal was placed, he could see the road leading to the bridge across the isthmus, and also the far end of the bridge itself, the nearer half being hidden by the walls. He could also, by looking to his right, see the heights across the lagoon to the north of the city. And although he said nothing, he noticed, nevertheless, vaguely that there was a constant influx of troops coming from the landward side, and that further, there was a large encampment of tents being rapidly reared on the hills to the north. But it did not strike him as being of any importance. He thought merely that they were some Iberian levies. He devoted himself equally to Elissa and the wine, which was his own, and excellent, and the more wine he drank, the more pressing he became in his attentions to his hostess, who, not quite understanding the customs of Carthage, very soon felt an alarm which she took care to conceal.

Both Cleandra and Melania were also slightly alarmed as the dinner wore on; but Cleandra, having taken two cups of wine, began to have her head turned by the compliments and ready tongue of Imlico, who had certainly made an impression upon her unattached affections. Melania was far more cautious with Ariston, whom she thoroughly disliked from the first; but the young widow, the Princess Cœcilia, made quite as much love to Zeno as he to her, and, long before the enormous number of courses which it was customary to serve in those days had appeared, she had, on the pretence of feeling a little faint, risen from the feast and taken Zeno off with her to show him the garden. And her faintness must have lasted a long time, for she never came back! In the meantime, course after course appeared, and the wine cup circulated freely; but still, until darkness fell upon the land, Adherbal could see troops marching into the city, and still he noticed rows upon rows of tents rising on the northern hills.

At length, when all had moved away from the table, the night fell. Adherbal had now become loving in the extreme, and clasped Elissa’s hands in his and drew her to his side. Coyly, with a slight resistance, she allowed herself to be so drawn, and coyly, too, but determinedly, averted her head when he sought to embrace her. He complained of her cruelty.

“It is too soon, my lord, too soon,” she uttered shyly. “Why, I have not even yet known thee one whole day.” She added laughingly, “Although I am willing to learn the manners of Carthage, I cannot learn them quite all at once.”

The wine he had drunk made him brutal. In spite of her striving to hold back, he held the girl closer to him and kissed her averted face. And then by force he turned her face to him and kissed her passionately on the lips.

Despite the loathing with which his embrace inspired her, she did not, as she was merely acting a part, resist at all violently. He could not, however, see the eyes gleaming with hatred in the darkness; he only felt the warmth of the little mouth, and, as she had not struggled much and had uttered no cry, he considered the battle was half won already. He unmasked his battery without further delay.

“Elissa, dearest Elissa, why shouldst thou resist me? Dost thou not know that I adore thee? I have come here from Carthage simply because of hearing of thy charms, for by Astarte, Queen of Love! I vow that I loved thee in advance; but hearsay is not one-thousandth part of the reality. Beloved, come to me, for thou wilt and shalt be mine.”

With his powerful arms he clasped her to him so closely that she could not move, while he could feel her fluttering heart beating against his breast. She temporised, concealing her rage for fear.

“My lord,” she whispered softly, “thou knowest that I am much flattered at having attracted thy attention thus; but still thou must consider me and my position a little. I am supreme here at present; and therefore what would Cleandra and Melania, who are but my slaves, say if they could see me now? Hence, if thou lovest me as thou sayest, yet release me, I pray thee. If thou choosest, thou canst still hold my hand. But be cautious.”

He released her, then said abruptly and somewhat angrily:

“Very well, my pretty one, I release thee for the present, for know this, that whether thou wilt or not, thou art mine, this palace is mine, and the vice-royalty that thy father Hannibal hath here in Iberia is mine. It depends simply upon how sweet and loving thou provest thyself to me now whether I spare his life or not, for know this, so incensed are the council of One Hundred at Carthage, and all the people also, at his having attacked Saguntum, and so embroiled them once more with Rome, that they have sent me here, armed with a large force, to seize and execute him. And thou, my pretty sweetheart, hast been decreed unto me as the reward for my trouble in coming. Therefore, if thou wilt be sweet and loving to me, then for thy sweet sake I will not only spare thy father’s life, but, when we get back to Carthage together, for I could never stop long in this country of barbarians, I will make thee my wife. ’Twere therefore wise for thee to become my willing partner, and then all will go well.”

Elissa’s anger rose beyond all control at this insulting speech; she could play her part no longer now.

“I will never be thine,” she said, “thou insolent hound! And as for thy seizing Hannibal, thou canst not do it. His troops have been marching in all the evening, and I, with my guard in the palace, can have thee arrested now this instant if I so choose.”

“Hannibal’s troops here so soon! By Moloch! I did not imagine that those were the troops of Hannibal that I saw marching in. There is, indeed, no time to lose. Thou shalt be mine this very night, for thou hast sought to entrap me, as I imagined thou mightst, for all thy winning ways. But thou art a little young yet, Elissa, and, when I have had thee in training for some time, thou shalt see that thou hast much to learn from the ‘insolent hound,’ as thou so politely hast termed me.”

“Thine to-night, faugh! Thine never! my Lord Adherbal, for know that this night thou shalt sleep in the dungeon of the castle, for I will have thee instantly seized. I have but to cry aloud. And to-morrow morning thou shalt be crucified.”

“And to-morrow morning, my pretty one, my men will storm the palace, and, unless they find me alive and well, put every inmate within it to the sword. Not much storming will, however, be necessary, for the gates will be opened for them. Therefore, cry aloud and see what happens, and to-morrow morning crucify me. But in the meantime I will hold thee as a sweet hostage here in mine arms.”

As he seized her tightly, she cried aloud:

“Gisco! Idherbal! Gisco, Gisco! Cleandra, Cleandra! Idherbal!”

She screamed in vain until she was hoarse. At the same time she could hear Melania screaming loudly also, while from Cleandra, at the far end of the verandah, some faint protests could be heard.

In vain did Elissa cry aloud until she was exhausted, and meanwhile Adherbal held her and mocked her. Her plans had utterly miscarried, and he had been more clever than she. She had given her men instructions to make his guards drunk, and to be concealed and ready to come to her assistance instantly when called for. She had also ordered a reinforcement of double the usual number in the gate guard-houses. But Adherbal, as he now calmly informed her, had obtained possession both of the postern gate and of the other gate of the palace. For he had made all her men within the palace, and also the guards at the gate-houses, senseless with merely one cup apiece of drugged wine, brought from the ship for the purpose, which his attendants had orders to offer them. All, therefore, were now lying bound and helpless. As for her women, they had been seized and bound by his men more than an hour ago. Never had there been such a miscarrying of a deeply-laid plan, for not even her manœuvre of making Hannibal’s troops appear to march in had alarmed him.

The poor girl now struggled and fought with the desperation of despair. All the while she could hear Melania’s cries becoming weaker and weaker; but Cleandra’s voice was no longer heard. Eventually Adherbal stifled her cries with his hand. When she was utterly exhausted, he lifted her in his arms, and with brutal kisses, accompanied by sarcastic speeches, he triumphantly bore her off towards his own apartments in the palace.

As with ease he carried off the now half-fainting girl in his arms, he met some of his own guards, who, having heard the cries, came forward, staggering with drink, from the back part of the palace.

“Begone instantly, you fools!” he cried; “have ye not both wine and women enough to amuse ye? see that ye disturb me not again.”

The guards shrank back abashed, and Adherbal passed on with his burden, Elissa realising in the agony of despair, with what senses she still had left, that she was utterly helpless in the ruffian’s power. And then she fell into a swoon.

CHAPTER VI.
CLEANDRA’S CUNNING.

It is not to be supposed that Imlico had been wooing Cleandra in the rough and ready fashion that Adherbal, his leader, had adopted; but he had been more successful. For he had found the pretty young Spanish maiden like the tow which needed only the smallest spark to set it on fire, and which blazed outright when touched with a flame.

For Cleandra not only came of the passionate Spanish race, but was a flirt by nature; and owing to the eight months’ siege of Saguntum, which had taken all the men away, was utterly tired of being without a gallant. Moreover, it must be admitted that she was a cunning and scheming young woman; and, therefore, speedily saw in the handsome, good-natured, and jovial young noble Imlico a tool ready to her hand wherewith to execute a project that she had long had in her heart. This was nothing more nor less than to escape from New Carthage and Hannibal’s household altogether. For, although Elissa loved her, and usually treated her more like a sister than a slave, yet slave she was, and her proud nature could not forget that circumstance. She well remembered that when but a little girl of twelve, Hasdrubal had stormed her father’s chief city, killed her father, and took her mother and herself captive. Her mother had only survived for a year or two. Hasdrubal had then kept the girl as his slave until she was seventeen. Then, some two years before his assassination by a Celt, in revenge for some private wrong, he had given her to Hannibal, whose sister was Hasdrubal’s first wife, as a companion for his daughter Elissa. Thus, although at heart personally attached to Elissa, Cleandra had no love for the family of Hannibal, through whose relative she had suffered, especially as, notwithstanding her high birth, she was yet considered by the household as a slave. Therefore, with her object in view, she did her utmost to bewitch Imlico, whose handsome bearing she really admired.

Although the associate of Adherbal and Ariston, Imlico was not only much younger, but a man of less determinedly bad principles than they. In short, he had a good heart; while he had no objection to taking love where he could find it, and that without burdening himself with many scruples, yet he did not at all approve of the villainous scheme suggested by the others, to bend the ladies to their will by force, or by fraud, or by a combination of both. He was, however, in a minority, and kept his feelings to himself for fear of the personal danger which he knew he would run had he dared to so much as hint at them.

And now as he wandered away with Cleandra in the faint light of a young moon, across the garden where the fire-flies flitted from bush to bush, and the air was redolent of the sweet odour of the orange blossoms, he felt himself falling deeply in love with the beautiful and high-bred girl by his side, about whose unresisting waist he wound his arm. And, apart from the scheme she had at heart, Cleandra in turn felt a strong sympathy for young Imlico, which, with the drowsy langour of the scented air, grew stronger every minute. And when at length they stood upon the battlements and looked out upon the sea, she readily yielded her lips to his ardent embrace.

Cleandra was absolutely in Elissa’s confidence, and knew her deeply-laid plans, and did not for a moment think that Hannibal’s daughter, or the other three ladies, were in any other danger than that of their own seeking. She had, therefore, smiled inwardly when the foolish little princess had, like herself, wandered away in the earlier part of the evening, doubtless to find a shelter and indulge in a flirtation in one of the shady summer-houses in the garden. But knowing Elissa’s plans, she imagined that it was Adherbal and his companions who were in danger, not only of present captivity, but of crucifixion, and it did not, from any point of view, at all suit her that this handsome young noble, with whom she had so rapidly fallen in love, should be either a captive or crucified. Therefore, although she did not intend to betray Elissa, she determined to make use of her plans for her own advantage, and the opportunity for so doing was not long in coming.

Imlico had just made her an ardent declaration. He vowed by all the gods that he adored her, and urged her to fly with him to his ship on the morrow’s morn.

“I will gladly fly with thee, Imlico,” replied the maiden, looking with burning glances into his eyes, “if thou wilt swear by Melcareth and Moloch to reveal nothing that I tell thee, to do exactly as I direct thee, and not to quit me for a moment. Then not only will I fly with thee, but that not to-morrow’s morn, but this very night.”

Enraptured, the enamoured young man pledged himself by the most solemn oaths to reveal nothing, and to follow her bidding exactly.

“Then listen closely, Imlico. I will fly with thee this very night simply to save thine own life, for it is in danger should thou stay an hour later here. For all the plot upon which ye are come hither is known, and before this time to-morrow thou and thy three companions are to be crucified upon this very battlement. Dost thou see the row of crosses beyond? They have been erected this evening on purpose for ye. They were not there when we rowed back from the harbour entrance this afternoon. The guards are but waiting the order to seize ye all.”

In spite of himself, Imlico started back and shuddered when he now saw, for the first time, the gruesome preparations for his own execution. But he speedily recovered himself with a laugh, and taking the plump Cleandra in his arms, kissed her heartily.

“By Astarte! thou didst give me a fright, little one, for the minute, but I thank thee for thy confidence and kindly interest in myself. And now confidence for confidence. Know this then, that Elissa and all of you women in this palace are, indeed, in danger if you will, saving only thyself, for thee I would not harm. But we Carthaginian nobles and our followers are in no danger from thy guards, and I will even now prove it to thee. Let us advance to where yonder sentinel is pacing by the postern gateway. We will stroll by him, and, when he challenges, thou shalt reply and give the password. Then thou shalt see who is in danger.”

With the girl on his arm, Imlico rapidly paced along the battlements to the sentry, who cried out:

“Halt! Let one only advance and give the countersign.”

Imlico pushed his fair companion, who boldly advanced and said, “Saguntum,” which was the password arranged in the palace for the night.

“ ’Tis the wrong password,” answered the sentinel, lowering his spear point towards her. “Thou canst not pass.”

Imlico laughingly now advanced in turn.

“The lady hath made a mistake, oh sentry. Carthage is the password she would have given.”

“Pass Carthage, and all’s well,” replied the guard, and so they passed in.

It was now Cleandra’s turn to shudder and start. “What? have the guards been changed?” she asked, “and the countersign?”

“Ay, that have they, fair Cleandra; and further know this that ye have not now a single man fit for duty within the whole palace walls, for all thy guards are by this time drugged, senseless, or bound. Thou seest clearly now that none of Elissa’s guests are in any danger, to-night at all events.”

Cleandra now thought of the story about Hannibal’s troops marching in, which had been merely an arranged plan, by which the same troops should appear over and over again. For it will be remembered that these troops could only be seen from the palace when descending on to the landward end of the bridge by the big gate of the city. So the troops that had been employed had marched across the bridge, then embarked in boats, followed up the city walls, crossed the lagoon, and then marching up a winding little pass that lay between the hills, had shown themselves again. And the best of the arrangement had been that all the mercenaries in the ships had, until dark fell, also noticed these troops arriving continually as if from Saguntum, for they saw them plainly crossing the top of a hill. In her need, for she wished to frighten Imlico, Cleandra made use of this plot.

“Ay, if thus by fraud the palace is Adherbal’s, then thou art safe for to-night, my good friend, Imlico. But didst thou not notice all the troops that were continually marching over the bridge while yet we were at table? They were the advance guard of a large portion of Hannibal’s forces that are being sent back from Saguntum. Many more will arrive to-morrow morn. Canst thou not see, glistening in the moonlight, the tents that have been erected for them on yonder eastern hill. This palace, therefore, even if held by thy few men, will be easily recaptured, and thou and all thine will most undoubtedly be crucified. Therefore thou must fly to-night. But now let us go back to the verandah, for Elissa may have sore need of me ere I go, and I would save her if I could. It grieves me sadly to leave her, but I feel that in thee I have found the man I love, and I would save thy life, while her life, at all events, is not in danger. But without me thou wilt never pass alive the guards stationed at the harbour mouth. With me thou art safe.”

Imlico was now thoroughly alert; the girl had convinced him of his great danger. It was just when they had reached the end of the verandah that Elissa had commenced to scream under Adherbal’s brutal grasp, and Melania likewise in the clutch of Ariston.

Then Cleandra had begged Imlico to allow her to fly to the young girl’s assistance, but he had restrained her. These were the protests that Elissa had heard.

“Let me go, let me go, Imlico! I will save her from the brute! and Melania is in danger also.”

“Let thee go? Never! They are in the danger that all pretty young women run, ’tis true; but what is that to thee or me? Man is man and woman woman, and no one seeks their lives, while shouldst thou foolishly interfere at this inopportune moment thy life will surely pay the forfeit, for both Adherbal and Ariston are brutes when their passions are aroused, and would surely slay thee. Stay here, I say, with me, for with me alone thou art safe. Thou shalt stay,” and forcibly he detained her.

Thus Cleandra was the unwilling witness of Elissa’s abduction, and also heard the brutal attack made by Ariston on Melania.

Ariston had drunk himself into a state of utter intoxication, and was absolutely careless of what he was doing. He saw Adherbal carrying Elissa off in his arms and strove to emulate his example. But Melania was very tall and strong and made a most vigorous resistance, which Ariston was unable to overcome. Whereupon, with brutal ferocity, he attempted to half strangle her, for he did not by any means intend to kill her. He very nearly succeeded in his foul attempt, but suddenly Cleandra, who was still being forcibly detained by Imlico, heard a groan and the sound of a fall. Tearing herself from her companion, she rushed forward and found both Ariston and Melania lying prostrate on the floor of the verandah. In the struggle that had taken place the couple had moved into the light of the lamp hanging in the doorway, and there they had fallen.

A gruesome sight it was that now met Cleandra’s eyes. His throat transfixed with a small dagger, which Melania had worn that evening through her hair, Ariston was lying, not dead, but open-eyed and speechless, with a stream of blood flowing slowly from his neck. Alongside him, with raiment sadly torn and disordered, lay Melania, unconscious and death-like, with discoloured face and frothy blood upon her lips. Cleandra screamed loudly, and would have fallen, too, had not Imlico, rushing forward, caught her swaying form in his arms.

As she fell weeping upon her knees by the side of Melania, Imlico, whom this tragedy had alarmed, begged her to be firm, as immediate action was necessary if either or both of them were to be saved, and he urged upon her the necessity of instant flight.

Although Cleandra had fully made up her mind to escape that night, she was not prepared to go without seeing Elissa again, or making some attempt, she knew not what, to save her. Suddenly she leapt to her feet and wiped her tears, as an idea sprung to her mind, and her nerve came back.

“Wait here,” she said to Imlico; “thou hast sworn to obey my directions. Shouldst thou fail in thy word, count not then on me to save thy life, for it is doomed! Therefore wait for me here by the doorway. Strive to restore Melania, lift her up against the pillar, and give her air.”

She sprung within, and rushed to the room where Maharbal had been left lying on his couch, senseless when she had seen him last. To her joy she found him now perfectly conscious, with eyes not only open but intelligent. Pale he looked, indeed, and weak, but he was a man—the only man who could be stirred to action in the whole place. It would not matter, so Cleandra thought, what should happen to him after, could he but prove of use to Elissa now. She took his sword and thrust it into his hands.

“Maharbal,” she said, “Elissa hath just been borne off into his apartment by Adherbal, who arrived here to-day. There may yet be time to save her, but Melania hath been slain while struggling with his companion, Ariston. Canst thou move? I will show thee the room. Thou hast perchance yet strength to rise and use this weapon.”

Maharbal bounded from his couch, his eyes on fire.

“Only show me the room, Cleandra, show me, quick!” He staggered as he rose from the couch, but Cleandra steadied him with her arm.

“This way,” she said, and he followed her, still leaning on her shoulder, and collecting his shattered wits and strength. She proceeded direct to Adherbal’s apartment, and, pausing for a second, said rapidly, “Maharbal, I am powerless to help Elissa further, and now it is for thee to do so if there be yet time. The palace and the palace gates are both in the hands of Adherbal’s people, but I am escaping with Imlico, one of his nobles, simply and solely as a means of alarming the troops on guard outside, who will come to the rescue. Meanwhile, thou must act.”

She opened the door, only to see Elissa all dishevelled in the arms of Adherbal, and fainting on a couch. He was fanning her face, and apparently striving to restore her. She opened her eyes at that instant with returning consciousness. She saw and recognised Cleandra and Maharbal. A gleam of hope sprung to the wretched young girl’s eyes.

“Maharbal,” she cried faintly, “Maharbal! save me! avenge me!”

Maharbal sprang upon Adherbal, who, snatching up his dagger from the side of the couch, where it had fallen, turned to meet him with the angry growl of a tiger, but of a tiger who has been baulked of his prey.

In a second Maharbal struck down his foe with a terrible blow, which almost severed his right arm at the shoulder. A second later his sword was at his throat.

“No,” cried Elissa, springing up, her bosom exposed, and hair wildly tossed about. “Slay him not now, think of the outrage he hath put upon me. Reserve him for crucifixion. Think what an insult he hath put upon me, who love thee; to me, Elissa, Hannibal’s daughter.”

“Yes, crucify the villain, Maharbal,” cried Cleandra also, “and Ariston likewise, if he be alive to-morrow, which I doubt. As for Zeno, I know not what the princess hath done with him. Hold now thy sword at his throat, while I bind him with these curtain ropes, and gag him with this ’kerchief. There, that is done. Now leave him here and lock the door, and do thou, Maharbal, and thou, Elissa, stay together in Maharbal’s apartment. Come thither quickly, draw in Melania, and barricade the door if ye would live throughout the night. As for me, Elissa, I must leave thee now and for ever, although my first object in flying from thee and slavery will be to send immediate relief to thee and Maharbal. This I can do by escaping with Imlico, whom I have won over to me. With him I can pass the few sentinels that Adherbal hath placed on the walls, and I have arranged a plan in my mind, so that upon my arriving at the harbour entrance, I can send some of our men, who will obtain admission at once. For I will give them the Carthaginian password, which I know, and, on leaving, I will make Imlico tell the sentinel at the postern gate to expect some of Adherbal’s troops to arrive shortly.

“Another thing I can do for thee and New Carthage through Imlico. It is this, I can carry out the plot on the lines of thy two letters to Adherbal, and so induce the fleet, partly from fear of Hannibal’s army, partly by greed and hope of gain, to leave for Saguntum at once. And now farewell, Elissa. Do not think hardly of me for flying with Imlico. Think that I was the woman who, through Maharbal’s right arm and with the help of the great god Melcareth, was the means of saving thine honour. Here then stay now for safety in Maharbal’s apartment. I will first bid Imlico bring in to ye Melania, and then I will depart. She hath, I rejoice to say, wounded the scoundrel Ariston sorely with her dagger; yet I trust he may live for the cross to-morrow, since he thoroughly deserves it.”

Cleandra now returned to Imlico, and, enjoining silence, made him bear the body of Melania, who still appeared perfectly lifeless, into Maharbal’s room. Then she and Elissa fell upon each other’s necks and parted with tears of sorrow.

Seizing Imlico by the arm, Cleandra passed with him swiftly to the postern gate, where her lover gave the password “Carthage,” and told the sentinel to shortly expect some troops, and to admit them.

At the bottom of the staircase the crew of the State galley were sleeping. These she aroused and ordered to man the boat, as she was on pressing business of their mistress Elissa, Regent and Governor of New Carthage. And as they all knew her, they made no difficulty about complying.

Speedily and in silence did she and Imlico proceed to the south entrance to the harbour, where, on giving “Saguntum” as the watchword, she was able to land and see the officer in command at that point. To him she confided the whole position of affairs, and after ordering him in Elissa’s name instantly to proceed with a body of men to the rescue of those in the palace, and giving him the watchword “Carthage” wherewith to effect an entrance, she re-embarked in the State barge, and rowed off to the flagship with Imlico. There the arrangements that she made through her lover and the reports which she spread were such that, when dawn broke, there was considerable consternation throughout the fleet. For they learned that Adherbal was a prisoner, and likewise Zeno and Ariston, and that an enormous encampment had been raised upon the eastern hills during the night. Moreover, in accordance with Elissa’s cunning design, musical instruments and bugles were sounding, while all the small body of men available for the purpose were constantly moving up and down in front of the first row of tents in the camp.

The men on the fleet, and indeed Imlico himself, were easily convinced that a large force of Hannibal’s had actually come in. The mercenaries, therefore, now deprived of their leader, were not at all disposed to attack the city; but, on the other hand, being fired with the accounts they had overheard the previous evening of the capture of the enormous spoil at Saguntum, news of which had spread all through the fleet, were anxious to go off and join Hannibal himself, and share in the booty of the place. When, further, an hour or two after daybreak, two of the crucifixes upon the walls of the palace, which were plainly visible from the fleet, were seen to be first lowered and then raised again, each with the body of a man attached, consternation fell upon all the mercenaries. For they knew that these human forms must be those of Adherbal and one of his attendants. As a matter of fact, they actually were Adherbal and Ariston, who were thus paying the penalty for their brutal crimes. As for Zeno of Rhodes, he was spared at the supplication of the Princess Cœcilia, and merely, with all Adherbal’s men, confined as a prisoner in the dungeons. Without waiting for any orders now, every ship commenced preparations to make sail.

Cleandra had no intention whatever of going herself to Saguntum, where she would certainly have been seized by Hannibal as his runaway slave. She therefore impressed upon Imlico the great risk that he would himself run if he arrived without any letter to prove to the great commander his innocence of complicity in Adherbal’s crimes, and seeing his danger, he readily listened to her advice. He disembarked all of the mercenaries on board the flagship, and sent them off in detachments to the other ships in the fleet. He then, having promised large sums of money to the ship’s captain, the officers, and the crew, persuaded them to turn her head the other way, and to set all sail for Carthage. And by the time of their arrival at the port of that queen of all the cities of the seas, Cleandra had obtained such an ascendancy over her lover’s somewhat weak mind, and he was, moreover, himself so infatuated with her, that, upon landing, he made her his lawful wife.

And thus, by the nerve and well-designed plans of Elissa, coupled with the cunning and cleverness of Cleandra, was the honour of Hannibal’s daughter saved, and a great plot against Hannibal himself brought to nought.

CHAPTER VII.
MELANIA’S MISERY.

Hannibal was not long in learning at Saguntum of what had taken place in New Carthage, and was in possession, in most accurate detail, of all the facts from Elissa’s own pen, before the fleet, laden with the mercenaries, arrived. She had, at the end of her letter, added that Melania’s recovery, after being despaired of, was now assured.

Hannibal was particularly pleased with Maharbal’s conduct, and gave orders that he was to be appointed at once to the command of the Numidian Cavalry, while the proceeds of the sale of a large portion of the spoil of Saguntum, and half-a-dozen splendid chargers which had been taken from the enemy, were also to be despatched to him in New Carthage. For Elissa had informed her father that, owing to his exertions, the young man’s wound had broken out bleeding afresh, and that he was not able to move from the palace, nor could he for some time to come.

Hannibal would not have been the great general and leader of men that he was if he had not been remarkably astute. His intuition was so great, that he could, so to speak, see the end of a book before another man had finished reading the title-page. In all the years he warred in Iberia, Gaul, Italy, and Carthage, and in all the alliances he made with tribes once hostile to him, never was there a single conspiracy made against his life, though assassination and treachery were common; from which it must be concluded, that he could read well the characters of the men with whom he had to deal, and knew how best to deal with them.

When he read through his daughter’s letter, he was with his two younger brothers. He indulged freely in curses against Adherbal and all his crew, especially the treacherous party of Hanno, now paramount in Carthage. But when he read that Maharbal was not able to leave the palace, he burst out laughing violently.

“What art thou laughing at, Hannibal?” quoth Mago, the younger of his two brothers, and a great personal friend of Maharbal. “I see nothing to laugh at in the fact of Maharbal’s being still a sufferer, owing to his having been the saviour of thy daughter and my niece’s honour. It seems to have been a case of touch and go, and he, with Cleandra’s aid—whose freedom, by the bye, should now be granted—undoubtedly saved her in the very nick of time. I think it is no laughing matter that a good soldier and good fellow like Maharbal should be still so dangerously ill.”

“Thou young simpleton,” answered Hannibal, “canst not see through it? I, at all events, know Elissa, the little minx, and that she is in love with the young giant, and perceive clearly that now she maketh him out far worse than he is on purpose to keep him nigh her. I saw the wound he had; ’twas nothing serious for a man of his physique. Had it been so, I would never have despatched him on that tremendous ride. But if we heed not, where that rascally scoundrel Adherbal failed to succeed by force, Maharbal will, although he is the very soul of honour, win in spite of himself; for in her gratitude, she will throw herself into his arms whether he will or no; if, indeed, she hath not done so already, for she hath the passionate nature of her Spanish mother. And then we may have to marry them, which I, for one, do not at all wish, for, in my opinion, Maharbal married will be a good soldier ruined. As regards Elissa herself, I should not mind, for, seeing his birth and breeding, she could scarcely do better, yet, for the sake of the country, I might perchance wed her to some king. Still, I say that I can always marry them later should it be found advisable.

“But pay attention, my brothers. I have such an enterprise in my head, which I have not yet informed you of, that I want with me no married men with young wives left at home to think about. So I fear that I must spoil my daughter Elissa’s little scheme, no matter at what stage things may be; although, since I love her very sincerely, I grieve to give her pain. But for the reasons I have mentioned they must be separated. Therefore, can either of you devise a scheme which will, without hurting either Elissa’s honour or her self-respect, separate her completely, and make her throw over Maharbal of her own accord, cause her to do it, too, in such a manner that he will from his own feelings of pride wish to have no more to do with her?”

Hasdrubal, the elder brother, who was cunning, now answered with a quiet smile:

“Well, it is unkind to Maharbal certainly; but he is a good soldier, and should not be spoilt as thou sayst, and I can give thee the cue, Hannibal. But it would grieve Elissa, and since I love the girl, I think that for her own protection she would be better married. So, perhaps, I had better keep the idea to myself, and let her marry him.”

“No, no,” answered Hannibal determinedly. “I will have no marriage, I tell thee, Hasdrubal. What is thy plan?”

“Oh, well, it is simple enough. Thou art sending to Maharbal money, thou art sending him horses; but thou hast forgotten he is entitled to yet another share of the spoil, thou hast sent him no slaves. Now, methinks, if thou wert to send him one of the most beautiful of these beautiful young Greek girls that we have captured, Elissa’s pride and jealousy would cause her to throw him over at once. I have, among my share of spoils, got so many of them that I do not know what to do with them all. I came across this morning, for the first time, a most lovely maiden of some sixteen summers, named, I think, Chloe. By the goddess Tanais and all her mysteries, she is a gem indeed, this Chloe; why not then send her to Maharbal with thy greeting, Hannibal, and the trick is done at once? The pretty child was weeping as though she had lost a lover, and Maharbal might perchance console her.”

“Is that all?” answered Hannibal, with a sneer. “Oh, my clever brother Hasdrubal, be assured that Maharbal would, after acknowledging the gift, sell her on the following morning to the highest bidder, or give her to Elissa herself to show his constancy, as he would have a right to do. No, that will not do; we must think of something better than thy Chloe.”

“I have it, then,” interposed Mago. “Who is there in all thy court at New Carthage so handsome and beautiful, so clever and cunning, as that tall, dark girl, Melania, daughter of Mandonius, the brother of the king of the Ilergetes, the girl who has been lately so nearly killed? We all know that she would give her very eyes for Maharbal, so why not make a present of her to him? he would soon have to love her in spite of himself—for like begets like. Nothing, moreover, would sooner create a breach between Maharbal and Elissa, than to give him a girl whom she has been accustomed to look upon as her own slave, and of whom she is, if I am not mistaken, a little jealous already.”

“Stay a moment,” replied the great General. “I believe, Mago, that thou hast hit the right nail on the head this time. I have had brought to me, but secretly, by the very same messenger that brought Elissa’s letter, a letter from the girl herself. I threw it on one side thinking that it was merely some petition for freedom of the usual kind, but there may be something more in it. Let us see—I have it over there. As my wound incommodes me, wilt thou bring it hither, brother, and open it?”

Mago opened and read it to himself before handing it to Hannibal. As he concluded he gave a low whistle.

“Indeed, oh, Hannibal, my brother, I have, while striking at random, hit the right nail on the head this time even as thou saidst. I will read the letter aloud, and thou shalt judge if this will not exactly suit thee. And, further, not only will Maharbal not be able to refuse, but I, his friend, am by no means anxious to commiserate with him, for I consider him a very lucky fellow indeed. In fact, in spite of all my Greek slaves, I quite envy him his good fortune. For I would not mind being in his shoes myself.”

“Read the letter,” quoth Hannibal.

Mago read as follows:—

“In the name of the Goddess Tanais, the Queen of Carthage, the Queen of Love, the Queen of the Seas, Greeting.

“From Melania, daughter of Mandonius, brother of the King Andobales, King of Central Iberia, to Hannibal, son of Hamilcar.

“My lord Hannibal, thou wilt have heard the news, how that Elissa and I were in the hands of two ruffianly nobles from Carthage, both since duly crucified by the mercy of Moloch the great god of sacrifice, and how we both narrowly escaped grievous wrong. My lord, our salvation and the salvation of New Carthage was only due to the timely arrival of Maharbal, the son of Manissa, brother to King Syphax of Numidia. He saved Elissa and cut down her aggressor Adherbal. His watchful care over myself hath also saved me from the very jaws of death, for I was almost strangled by the ruffian Ariston of Carthage; but he hath watched me like a brother, and I am, thanks to him, restored.

“My lord Hannibal, in this thy palace Maharbal is beloved of all the women for his bravery, his devotion to thyself, and his manly strength; above all one loveth him, even Elissa. Pardon, I pray thee, the humble supplication of thy servant Melania, but methinks that it would be well, seeing her high position, if so be thy will, that thou shouldst cause them to wed shortly. Thus will they be made happy, and the report of evil tongues be stayed. Further there can, once this be accomplished, be no more heart-burnings and jealousies among the foolish women here about thy palace, which said heart-burnings are apt to cause dissensions. Especially the Princess Cœcilia would be no longer able to annoy the Lady Elissa as she doth now by her folly about the young man. My lord, I love Elissa as I respect her, and it is in her interests and for the honour of thy name that I have dared to mention these things, therefore I pray thee forgive thy slave.

“But lest thou shouldst imagine, oh my lord Hannibal, that there is no due cause for this letter, then know this, that there are other and weightier reasons which impel me to write. Although thy slave, thou hast ever treated me as thy daughter’s friend, and such indeed I am, the friend of thy house.

“Therefore know this, I have been lately in frequent communication with my younger sisters, the daughters of Mandonius. From them I have learned that great discontent exists against thee and thy government on the part of both my father Mandonius and his brother Andobales, king of the Ilergetes, formerly despot of all Central Iberia. One cause, but only one cause out of many for this discontent, is that I am still retained a slave, and they fancy that I am not happy in thy household. My lord Hannibal, couldst thou take steps to assure them of my complete content and happiness, and shouldst thou see fit to send me with a suitable escort on a mission to the court of Andobales, it is my belief that I could easily attach both mine uncle Andobales and my father Mandonius firmly to thine own person and to the cause of Carthage. My lord, I know more than I have committed to paper, therefore I pray thee forgive the boldness in thus addressing thee of thy slave

“Melania.”

Both Hannibal and Hasdrubal his brother smiled when this letter was ended, and the former remarked:

“Ay, Mago, my lad, I see it, despite all the girl’s cunning. She is indeed a clever girl, and she wants me to give her to Maharbal, and by Melcareth! she shall have her wish, for she can be useful, ay, indeed more than useful to me at the present juncture. I have sore need of the close alliance of the whole of the Ilergetes and of all the great tribes dependant upon them, for we shall not long be left alone in Iberia, since the Romans will soon be sending their legions here. And this girl can win us this alliance as she saith. But for all that I will not give her her liberty, nay, nor marry her to Maharbal, for he certainly shall not marry her if I let him not wed Elissa; further, I would keep a hold on the girl. But for the interests of the State I will, as she desireth, make her happy. I will therefore give her to Maharbal, at all events for the time being. He shall leave the palace at New Carthage, and whether he will or no shall take her to live with him, with the understanding given to her by me that she is to be considered as his affianced wife, to be wedded and set free when I see fit. If that will not make her happy, then I am not named Hannibal. I am not, alas! so sure of Maharbal himself, nor of Elissa. But reasons of State ever are paramount, and all must bend to my will or suffer for it.”

And Hannibal frowned deeply at the mere idea of being thwarted in any way.

“No one dare oppose thy will, brother,” said Hasdrubal, “for thou art king here absolutely; although thou wearest not the crown thou couldst any day, an thou would, place it upon thy brow. Thy plan is a good one as I see it. For it will firstly have the effect of separating Elissa from Maharbal; secondly, it will prevent the latter from marrying at all; thirdly, thou canst send the girl Melania under the escort of Maharbal himself to the court of King Andobales, and she can point to him as her affianced husband. That will more than content these barbarians, especially when they know how highly he stands in thy favour, and that he is, leaving his high connections on one side, commander of all the Numidian Cavalry.”

“It shall be done without delay,” said the chief. “Call in my faithful Greek friend and scribe, Silenus; he shall write the necessary letters for us. He hath a cunning hand hath Silenus, and knoweth well how to convey an order so that it is thoroughly understood, yet seemeth but intended as a favour. But at all events, Maharbal shall not marry, and to my mind Elissa is too young to be married yet. Further, she may be useful to the State later.”

These reflections he added meditatively, as if sorry for the blow that he was about to inflict upon his daughter.

Then Silenus, who was ever Hannibal’s closest friend, and who accompanied him in all his wanderings, was called in, and three letters were written—to Elissa, Maharbal, and Melania respectively, all carefully worded.

In about a week the courier bearing the letters arrived at New Carthage, where they caused considerable stir and many heart-burnings.

That to Elissa, after conveying the warmest praise for her conduct, intimated the speedy arrival of Hannibal himself, and then referred to Maharbal. Of him the Commander-in-Chief said, that since he was the only officer in the whole of the Carthaginian army of those who had served before Saguntum who had no female slaves, and that Elissa herself being unmarried and Maharbal residing in the palace with her, some talk was being bandied about the camp which were best suppressed, therefore, Hannibal considered it best that Maharbal should leave the palace forthwith, and as he seemed not yet wholly recovered from his wound, that he should take Melania with him to watch him until his recovery. Further, Hannibal intimated to his daughter that, as there were reasons of State for this arrangement, he trusted to her duty, even if she should herself have formed any attachment for the young man, to offer no opposition to her father’s projects. The letter ended with instructions to send the unfortunate Zeno and the captive guards of Adherbal to perpetual slavery in the silver mines.

To Maharbal were conveyed the warmest thanks and praise of his Commander-in-Chief, an intimation of his promotion, and of the despatch to him of much gold and many horses; further, a deed of gift conveying to him a house belonging to Hannibal, situated near the citadel. He was also informed that, as a reward for his bravery and devotion, Melania was appointed to be his companion, and, although Hannibal would himself not resign his own vested rights in her, she was to be considered in all other respects as his slave. Finally, Hannibal enjoined upon Maharbal that, for reasons of his own, he expected him to do all in his power to make Melania happy in every respect; also the necessity of his impressing upon everyone that Melania was not merely his slave but his affianced bride, to be wedded when his commander should see fit.

In a kindly-worded note, in Hannibal’s own hand on a separate paper, the contents of which he was enjoined to keep to himself, Maharbal was informed that he need be in no fear of being plunged into any immediate wedlock, for that Hannibal had no intention of having any of his superior officers married for a long time to come, not, at all events, before certain work of great importance that he had in hand should be completed.

Before the arrival of these letters, Maharbal and Elissa had been living in a state of halcyon bliss, the only disturbing element to cause any trouble having been the foolish little Princess Cœcilia, who, with her mania for flirtation, had been incessantly casting eyes at the young Colossus, and indeed making love to him very openly. For she was dying to get married again, and had conceived the idea of marrying Maharbal himself. As for Melania, she had suffered greatly for some days after her escape, and had, during the days that Maharbal, sick himself, had tended her like a brother, in no wise ever allowed her feelings to get the upper hand of her self-constraint, nor allowed her inward devotion and passionate attachment to him to appear outwardly. As Elissa had also been kindness itself to her, she had, indeed, during those days of sore sickness, resolved to subdue self entirely, and to banish from her heart the love she bore to the gallant officer of the Numidian Horse. Thus it had been solely with the intention of striving to make her two benefactors happy, while removing temptation from herself, that she had secretly written as she had done in the first part of her letter to Hannibal. The latter part spoke for itself. But her self-abnegation had been utterly misunderstood by the great commander and his brothers, who had quite misjudged her, with the result that is known.

The letter that she received herself came to her as a surprise. No mention was made of the letter that she had sent to Hannibal, but his to her commenced by saying that he expected shortly to have need of her services on an important matter; that he regretted to hear of the danger she had been in, and that he rejoiced at her escape, and at the condign punishment of her aggressor.

Then the letter continued, that Hannibal, ever mindful of the happiness of those who had done good service to the State, had not forgotten her or Maharbal, and was anxious to make them both happy. Therefore, since Maharbal had not, in the usual fashion of the army, any female slave living with him, and as he was universally well spoken of by men and women alike, he had decreed that, for the present, she was to remove herself from the palace, and to reside with Maharbal in the house which he himself was going to give him as a residence. Further, that she was not to consider that she was being treated lightly in this matter, although she was undoubtedly at present a slave, nor was she to consider herself merely in the same light as any other slave-girl who might be the temporary mistress of the home of one of the nobles in the Carthaginian army. For Hannibal, bearing the greatest good-will to both Maharbal and herself, and recognising that, from her birth, she was in a position to be his wife, had decreed that, while under Maharbal’s roof, Melania was to be considered and treated as his affianced bride. She was informed that the actual marriage should take place at such time, as, in the opinion of Hannibal, it conveniently might, and that, at the same time, her freedom would be conferred upon her.

The letter ended: “Thou art to show unto Maharbal this my letter unto thee, and show it further to my daughter, Elissa, Regent and Governor of New Carthage.”

The terribly mixed feelings with which Melania read this letter caused her poor fluttering heart to beat as though her bosom would burst. There was no joy she longed for in life more than to become all in all to Maharbal, although, alas! she well knew that he did not love her, but only loved Elissa. Thus, despite her love, she hated the idea of being compelled to live under his roof as his wife, for this was very plainly the General’s intention. Again, she knew how Maharbal himself would take the matter, and she dreaded his scorn and neglect. She also feared the anger and revenge of which she might be the sufferer at the hands of Elissa, whose ardent love for Maharbal she well knew, for she had seen it indulged in openly and unrestrainedly by the young girl before her very eyes. For Elissa, with all the thoughtless folly of youth, had never considered her slave’s presence when with the glorious young Apollo, her own sun god.

Sooth to say, there was no such man as Maharbal in all the lands of Carthagena or of Iberia. He was, indeed, a very Adonis for beauty, with all the strength of a Hercules. It was no wonder that he was beloved by maids and matrons alike, for in face, form, and disposition he was in all points a man for a woman to worship.

The wretched Melania in her despair knew not what to do. When nearly mad with thinking, she eventually sent a maiden with the letter to Maharbal and Elissa when they were together. And then, leaving a note in her apartment saying that she was departing for ever, and that it would be useless to seek her, she fled from the town; walking as one distraught, not knowing what she would do, but simply with the idea of taking away her own life in some way. For, from whatever aspect she looked at it, she could not face the situation. While passing the guard house and crossing the bridge leading to the mainland, she met many people who knew her, and who saluted her. She looked at them vaguely without seeing them, and passed on. They thought from her dazed expression that she had gone mad. And so, in fact, the poor girl had in a way. Vaguely still, she wandered on until she took a little by-road that led up into an interminable cork and hazel forest, that covered the whole of the mountain-side. As she was ascending the hill, she met a man whom she had quite recently befriended, an old soldier who had had his leg broken in an accident in the palace, and whom she had nursed. He had gone to live on the mountain-side, where he made a living by capturing, with the aid of his sons, the game which abounded. He stopped her, and being a garrulous old man, forced her to speak to him. He informed her that as evening was now coming on she must not proceed further, for that she would be in danger of her life from the wolves, bears, and wild boars with which the forest was filled.

“Wolves, bears, and wild boars! are there many?” she asked.

“The hill is full of them, dear lady Melania; therefore, to go further to-night will be certain death.”

“Then, as certain death is what I seek, I shall proceed,” replied the girl. “Take thou this piece of gold, and let me pass. Nay, here are two, and some silver also—take them all.”

Pushing the old man aside, she passed on, and wandered away into the recesses of the forest, until, long after having left all vestige of a trail, she fell from sheer exhaustion beneath the shadow of a spreading plane-tree, beside a little spring. After drinking a draught of the cool, refreshing water, she laid herself down to await the coming of the wild animals that were to solve the vexed problem of her existence for her, and to terminate all her woes. But she remained there that night, and also for the following three days, gradually dying from starvation, and still no ferocious beast came by to terminate her ills.

CHAPTER VIII.
LOVE FULFILLED.

Since the rescue of Elissa from the brutal grasp of Adherbal, the young girl had unrestrainedly given all her love to her protector. Although experienced in matters of war, from having accompanied her father on his campaigns, she was utterly inexperienced in matters of love, and, for all her determination—indeed, almost cruelty of character—begot by the way in which she had been brought up, she was passionately loving. This was born in her, and she was, moreover, just at the very age when a maiden’s heart is most impressionable. She had no idea of counting the cost of anything that she might do where her love was concerned, and she had fully made up her mind that Maharbal was to be hers, and she his. Although in those days, as now, eventual matrimony was considered a desirable object in life for young women, a lapse from virtue beforehand, when marriage was intended, was not looked upon as a heinous crime, even among the highest families of Carthage. For the worship of Tanais, or Astarte, was but another name for the worship of Venus, and, as all readers of the classics know, whether under the names of Artemis or Aphrodite, of Venus or Astarte, the worship of the goddess of love was seldom accompanied by the greatest continence. This was evident by the Eleusinian mysteries in Greece, and the Veneralia in Rome, while the extreme licentiousness of the Carthaginian priestesses of Tanais at Cissa, the town whither the revolted mercenaries of Hamilcar were banished, is too well known to require comment.

From her earliest youth, Elissa had been instructed to be a worshipper of the greatest of Carthaginian divinities after Melcareth, this Venus, Astarte, or Tanais. And she was more than ever a faithful votary of the shrine since she herself, youthful, ardent, and loving, had set her deepest affections upon Maharbal. She expected and intended that he should become her husband; but she had, with the laxity of the times, resulting from this worship of Tanais, fully determined that, with or without the marriage tie, their lives should be joined together in a closer union than that which usually unites those who have not already become man and wife.

The only difficulty was in Maharbal himself. He was a man who had ideas of purity far beyond his age. He did not believe at all in pre-nuptial love, and had altogether a higher standard of the moral law than any known to exist at that time. He was, indeed, laughed at in the army for never keeping even one female slave. He had, in consequence, after having come to a full understanding with Elissa, whom he loved, as she loved him, with every fibre of his soul, been extremely careful that, as far as he was concerned, she should remain absolutely pure. He intended her to be his wife, and she was, he knew, absolutely determined to marry him. There, indeed, seemed to be to neither of them the slightest reason why they should not shortly wed. Therefore, he had ever gently restrained her passionate abandonment. He recognised plainly that these loving advances were made solely in the loving confidence that she reposed in the man who was to be her husband. To any other man she would, he well knew, have been as cold as ice, and he recognised that, with body and soul, she loved him, and him alone.

Thus, when Hannibal’s mandates arrived, ordering Maharbal to take Melania as his mistress, the youthful and passionate Elissa became furious with rage and jealousy. She might have looked upon the matter in a less severe light, judging by the habits of the day, had not Hannibal, her father, so distinctly said that Maharbal and Melania were to be considered as betrothed to each other; but this order, depriving her for ever of the hope of the lover who had never as yet been hers, aroused her fury to the highest degree, and Maharbal himself was not less angry than Elissa at being caught in this trap of Hannibal’s. While discussing the matter together, the letter from Hannibal to Melania was brought to them. When Elissa had read it, for once her whole nature rose up in revolt. She became, for the first time in her life, a thorough rebel to her father’s authority, and instantly determined upon the death of her rival. For was she not still the Regent and Governor of New Carthage, and was not the power of life and death in her hands?

She instantly called the palace guards, and ordered them to go to Melania’s apartment, to lead her away for instant decapitation, and to return and inform her when her orders had been obeyed.

Maharbal strove to interfere; but Elissa, drawing herself up, remarked calmly:

“I am supreme here, Maharbal; this is my palace, and these are my guards. No one can give orders here but myself.”

Shortly afterwards word was brought to Elissa that Melania was missing, and that a letter had been found in her room saying that she was departing for ever; therefore the order for her execution could not be carried out. She had been seen to leave the city; but whither she had gone no man knew.

Her first rage being past, Elissa was doubtless glad that her barbarous orders could not be executed, since she was not cruel at heart. As for Maharbal, he was delighted, not only that Melania’s execution could not be carried out, but that her absence made it quite impossible for him to fulfil the orders of his chief. He thought it probable that the girl had fled—as indeed she had—merely from fear of Elissa’s vengeance, and sincerely hoped that he might never see her face again.

Under Hannibal’s delegated authority Elissa had it in her power to ratify the marriages of all persons under her rule at New Carthage; so in her disappointment, and while knowing that without Hannibal’s permission it would be illegal and irregular to apply this authority to her own person, she determined upon a bold stroke, and resolved instantly to celebrate her own marriage with Maharbal. Requesting the presence of Gisco and the princess as witnesses, she, much to their alarm and surprise, at once announced to them her intention; and when the guards, who had brought the news of Melania’s absence, had withdrawn, proudly drew herself up, and advancing to where Maharbal was sitting, sadly buried in thought, laid both her hands upon his shoulders, and looked him straight in the eyes. All trace of girlishness had now vanished; it was a woman, and a determined woman, who thus confronted him.

“So Melania is not to die, it seems, for if she reappear now I shall not have her executed, but carry out my father’s orders, and hand her over unto thee, or, rather, hand thee over unto her. Yea, hand over thee my affianced husband to be the affianced lover of another woman. And she, this slave, by Hannibal’s cruel command, in which, methinks, he hath dealt somewhat lightly with Hannibal’s daughter, hath been plainly ordered to live with thee as if thou wert in truth her husband. Hannibal says it is for State reasons; but State reasons or no, since I am not thy wife, and this girl is missing, I will do that which will make it for ever impossible for me to give myself as wife to any other man. For I, too, although only affianced to thee, will do my duty to thee as thy wife. And since what applies where this Iberian slave is concerned, applies equally where Hannibal’s daughter is concerned, I, Elissa, being determined to bind my life unto thine, and to thine alone for ever, now solemnly salute thee, Maharbal, as my husband, before these two witnesses, and before Melcareth and Tanais; and if Hannibal confirm not our marriage, he can, at all events, find no fault with thee or me. But be assured that he will confirm it, for he loveth me. And if thou wilt not take me, I will die.”

Seeing that if Melania reappeared, his beloved Elissa and he would be separated for ever, all Maharbal’s scruples fled from him upon hearing Elissa’s word, as leaves fly before the autumn wind. Thus it fell out that he also vowed eternal fidelity to her, saluting her as his wife before the two witnesses.

For the next few days Maharbal and Hannibal’s daughter yielded themselves up to all the delights of mutual love; for as they considered themselves actually married before the gods, Elissa became his wife in all but law. Maharbal, however, being the soul of honour, had stipulated before he yielded, that they should instantly confess the situation to Hannibal, and ask him to confirm their union without delay. To this Elissa readily agreed, for she knew her father’s immense love for herself, and believed that, as the unexpected absence of Melania had made compliance with his instructions quite impossible, he would not be so very angry at what had occurred. Moreover, she quite expected that, knowing that she and her lover had overstepped the boundary of prudence, he would yield to their wishes at once, and make them, by his sanction, man and wife; or, rather, confirm the marriage which, she considered, they had consummated.

But for all that she knew him so well, and that she and her father loved each other so dearly, she yet did not thoroughly know Hannibal the Great, nor the inflexibility of his will. He arrived at New Carthage on the morning of the fourth day after these events with a large army, and still Melania had not reappeared.

No time was lost by Maharbal and Elissa in disclosing to him the actual truth. He was vexed on finding Melania missing, but found no fault with what they had done. He merely remarked drily, and with a sarcastic smile:

“I have given certain orders, my child Elissa, and they will have to be obeyed if possible, for I go not back upon my word. Neither thou nor Maharbal have hitherto been to blame, since ye could not carry them out. And as thou wast the Regent and Governor here, Maharbal was, of course, in the meantime, bound to obey thine orders. Apparently thou hast given him instructions that he was not very loth to obey. But if thou, as the result of thy futile presumption in thinking I would make ye twain man and wife, shouldst bear to him a child, think not that I will any the more for that unite thee to him in matrimony. Far from it! I have said that Maharbal and Melania are affianced to one another, and, until I know of the girl’s death, affianced they remain. Mind I do not say married, but affianced; and that he cannot be affianced to two women at once, or wedded to one and affianced to another, is evident.”

Neither the prayers of Maharbal nor his reference to his former services, nor the tears and supplications of Elissa herself, would for a moment shake Hannibal’s will. He was not to be moved, for he was iron.

“Nay, Elissa, notwithstanding that thou hast in mine absence chosen to take the law into thine own hands, and to consider thyself the wife of Maharbal, yet, despite the oaths which thou hast sworn before two witnesses and the gods, thou art not and canst not be his wife without my consent, and that consent is withheld. Thou couldst indeed, it is true, in thy position as Regent and Governor of New Carthage, have given thine own consent, and it would have been legal, to the marriage of any others who might have bound themselves as ye have done by mutual oaths. But for thine own marriage thou wast answerable to me alone, and I will not confirm it. So that is an end of the matter. But now let us go to our mid-day meal; this subject will keep till later. I presume that thou hast made inquiries for Melania in any case?”

The shock of this blow had nearly rendered the wretched Elissa speechless. She could merely murmur:

“Ay, my father, I have sent in all directions.”

“That will do then; so now let us to our repast.”

Before the end of the meal, the old ex-soldier and now forester, who had met Melania on the hill, appeared, asking to see the lady Elissa. She shuddered when she heard of his presence with a foreboding of woe, for what could bring him but news of Melania? He brought, indeed, tidings that his sons, while hunting a wild boar, had come upon Melania lying unconscious in the forest, and that she was now reposing at his hut, and seemed nearly dead from starvation.

“That will do,” said Hannibal, giving the man a large sum of money. “Take the lady out all necessary provisions and wine, and bring her in when she is completely recovered; but see that she is completely recovered first.”

When the old man had gone, Hannibal addressed his daughter and Maharbal.

“Until Melania reappears, my children, since matters have gone so far between ye, I will not interfere in your illegal and ill-judged union. But when she arrives, remember this, thou Elissa, and thou Maharbal, that Melania and Maharbal are betrothed to each other, and Elissa and Maharbal are thenceforth to be but the merest acquaintances, nothing more.

“Now, let us be merry together, and let the wine-cup go round, for we cannot always be thinking of matters of policy or of State, and save only for them, I vow I would readily ever see ye twain together as ye are now. For, by Adonis, god of beauty, ye are a splendid couple. But duty is duty, alas!

“Meanwhile,” he resumed, with a humorous twinkle in his eye, “let us now raise a brimming goblet to Tanais the dear sweet goddess of love herself. What sayest thou, my pretty widow Cœcilia—they say that Tanais hath no more devoted votary than thee—wilt thou not drain a cup with us?”

Not only the flirting little princess, but everyone present, including Hannibal himself, who was no anchorite, drained their wine-cups to the dregs, Maharbal and Elissa looking deep down into each other’s eyes as they drank. And the afternoon and night were passed in happiness, music, and song, and all was gaiety and rejoicing, both in the palace and camp, at the return of Hannibal from Saguntum.

CHAPTER IX.
A LAUGH AND A LIFE.

All was now animation in Saguntum. The winter had passed and the place was full of troops, for Hannibal was now using the city as his base of operations against all the Iberian tribes living across the Iber or Ebro.

Elissa and Maharbal had been long since ruthlessly torn apart, the latter swearing to his dear lover, for it was impossible to consider her as his wife, that Melania should be as a sister to him and nothing more. But Hannibal, careless of anybody’s feelings, even his own, so that the business of the State was advanced, had soon perceived that the occasional meetings which took place between his daughter and her lover Maharbal were disturbing to them both, and thus upsetting to his calculations. He, therefore, took an opportunity one day when Maharbal was busy exercising the large body of Numidian Cavalry now under his command, of paying an unexpected visit to the house that he had given to the young warrior.

Entering quietly, he found the beautiful young Iberian girl sitting in the most forlorn position, weeping violently. Very few questions won from the reluctant damsel the position of affairs, and the anger of the great Chief was aroused. For Maharbal, faithful to Elissa, and being but her’s alone, was not obeying his General’s commands to make Melania perfectly happy, since it was not the love of a brother, which was all that Maharbal had given her, that would fill her yearning heart. There had been a short and sharp interview between the Chief and his Commander of Numidians, and a few days later, it being now early in the autumn, Maharbal and Melania had been sent away, with a large force as escort, to travel by easy stages on an embassy to her uncle Andobales, King of the Ilergetes. And from the time that they had left New Carthage the face of the young maiden had brightened.

The description of the Court of Andobales, where Melania and Maharbal remained all the winter and early spring, is not here necessary, but the result of the embassy is a matter of history. Moved by the representations of Melania, by the munificent presents of Hannibal, and the fact that Melania was the affianced bride of one of the most powerful chiefs of the Carthaginian army, the closest compact of friendship was entered into between both Andobales and his brother Mandonius with the Carthaginians, which treaty of friendship was of the greatest advantage to Hannibal at that time, and faithfully respected by the Iberians so long as they were treated with proper consideration. Before, however, the treaty was absolutely ratified, the General Hasdrubal was sent by Hannibal on a further mission to Andobales to see the exact position of affairs. On his return, the report that he gave to his brother the great Commander was most satisfactory. But the information that he carried to his niece Elissa, which was purposely coloured and false, tore the poor girl’s heart with frantic jealousy, for it left not the slightest room for doubt as to the state of the relations now existing between the man whom she insisted, in spite of her father’s absolute disavowal of any marriage, was her husband, and the daughter of Mandonius. For Hasdrubal brought back the news that Melania was making Maharbal as happy as possible, and further that she was likely to become a mother. After hearing this intelligence, Elissa was both enraged and jealous to frenzy; moreover, she suffered the more bitterly in her spirit from the fact that no such good fortune, for so she would have indeed considered it, had fallen to herself. She felt it all the more, since, moved by her unhappy looks and frequent tears, and perhaps by the fact that the treaty of friendship he desired was now established with the tribes of the Ilergetes, Hannibal had one day told her that, had there been any such an eventuality where she herself was concerned, he would have thrown over his tool Melania, and, notwithstanding his previous refusal, have ratified his own daughter’s irregular connection with Maharbal simply in order to legitimatise her offspring. But this opportunity of gaining her heart’s desire was for poor Elissa lost, and possibly her astute father would never have told her, at this time, what he would have done, had he not already known that there would not be any chance of his having to keep his word.

Elissa’s love of Maharbal was now turned, or she imagined that it was turned, to hatred, for, misled by Hasdrubal, she had no doubt of his infidelity, and did not in the least take into account the fact that that infidelity had been imposed upon him by her father’s commands. She, womanlike, only imagined that he had broken his vow of fidelity to herself. And this thing she could not forgive!

Meanwhile, the King of the Ilergetes wrote to Hannibal requesting permission to have the nuptials of his niece and Maharbal celebrated, and to have the freedom which had been promised to Melania confirmed. Hannibal, with all the trickiness of the policy of those days, wrote in return that the marriage should be celebrated in Saguntum, and directed that the Numidian chief and his affianced wife should return for the purpose without delay to that city. He had not at heart the slightest intention of fulfilling either promise, but proposed to keep the girl really, although not nominally, as a hostage for the good behaviour of her relations. Thus State reasons influenced him again to the sacrifice of the personal feelings of the sweet-natured Melania, whom it had suited his purpose to make a plaything of in every way.

Fortunately for the great Commander’s reputation for good faith, and for the feelings of Melania herself, she was spared the indignity of the wrongs that would undoubtedly have been put upon her had she reached Saguntum alive. For death came suddenly and unexpectedly to take her away at a time when she could die happily in the arms of the man whom she loved. An accident that occurred to her by the fall of her mule over a precipice in crossing the mountains caused her sudden and early death. Maharbal had scarcely reached her where she lay crushed and mangled at the foot of a dark ravine, when she became unconscious, and passed peacefully away. And she was buried on the side of the mountain where she died.

Thus did Melania, who had never harmed a living soul, escape, by the will of Providence, from a world in which, had she lived longer, she would have undoubtedly only experienced many and bitter trials, of which the enmity of her former friend, Elissa, would have been by no means the least.

But her removal from Elissa’s path by no means lessened the feeling of resentment that burned in the bosom of Hannibal’s daughter against her ex-lover, Maharbal.

He, poor fellow, did not deserve the resentment, for he adored her still, as he had ever done. He had certainly, while obeying his Chief’s orders, learnt to appreciate Melania’s devotion to himself, especially as he had always had an affection for her, in which, however, passion had had no part.

Maharbal had been only three days in Saguntum, when going out to review the large body of Iberian and Numidian Cavalry, mounted upon his war horse, which, on account of his own great size, was an enormous animal, he was proceeding down the main street of the city. He was a magnificent sight, reminding the spectator of Apollo, the sun god, as, with a golden helmet, and wearing the most magnificent armour, he, on his mighty black charger, preceded his brilliant staff of officers. Suddenly he espied Elissa, the woman who had been as a wife to him, and who should, but for the great Hannibal’s invincible will, have been actually his wife, coming down the street in the opposite direction. She was on foot, and followed by several maidens, accompanied also by a couple of young gallants about the court, who were highly honoured at being seen in her company by so many noble officers. Raising his hand, Maharbal halted the officers behind him. Dismounting, he courteously saluted the woman whom he had saved from Adherbal, and who had been, and still was, everything to him.

“And how doth the Lady Elissa?” he demanded, his eyes aglow with the delight he felt on seeing her. “By all the gods of Carthage she hath a right royal mien, and it doth the heart of Maharbal good to see her once more.”

Elissa deliberately turned her back upon him. Addressing one of the young men of her escort, she remarked in a voice which was intentionally raised so that all present could hear it:

“What a number of these stranger officers of the mercenaries there are in the town just now. But surely someone should give them a lesson in manners; they should be taught that ladies of rank are not to be addressed in the streets by uncouth barbarians whom they do not know.”

Then, with a little bitter laugh, she sauntered on without once glancing at Maharbal. A loud titter was heard from all the maidens, following their mistress’s example; from the two young nobles also, and, worst of all, from the officers of Maharbal’s own staff.

But one of the latter not merely tittered, but laughed outright. He was a certain Idherbal, a right valiant officer, who had considered himself much slighted when Maharbal had been appointed over his head to the command of the Numidians. And there was not a man or woman there but knew well what was, doubtless, considered the diverting history of the loves of Elissa and Maharbal. Therefore, they considered a laugh at the unexpected insult and rebuff given by Elissa to her lover quite excusable.

Not so Maharbal. Bounding upon his war-horse, his face all aflame, the young man drew his sword.

“Defend thyself, oh, Idherbal,” he cried, “for ’tis the first and last time thou shalt ever laugh at Maharbal!”

The other drew his sword rapidly, and, waiting until he did so, Maharbal charged him. Idherbal struck a mighty blow as he approached, but Maharbal, bending to his horse’s neck, and, with all the skill of the famed Numidian riders, throwing his whole body on the further side of his steed, the sword met no resistance, but only whistled through the air. Back in his saddle in an instant, Maharbal, still crouched low, lunged home with the point of his weapon at the joint in the armour beneath his antagonist’s arm. The blow told; but, even as the red blood spurted out, the young giant withdrew his sword, and, with a second blow—a terrible, sweeping cut—caught Idherbal just below the helmet at the neck. The wretched man’s head, helmet and all, flew spinning off into the middle of the street, while his body fell on the other side.

“Here, sirrah!” cried Maharbal to the young noble who had been addressed by Elissa, who, with all her companions, had been forced to turn and watch the rapid and bloody conflict, “come hither instantly.”

Tremblingly the young man approached Maharbal, and terrified he viewed his bloody sword. For he also had been a laugher, and feared his own instant death.

“Take up that head,” he commanded, in a loud voice. “It is the head of Idherbal, the son of Mago.”

The young man submissively picked up the bloody head, bleeding in its casque, of the man who had been living and laughing like himself but a minute previously.

“Present the head to the Lady Elissa,” he said, “and ask her whether or no it be the head of one of the stranger officers of the mercenaries who hath dared to insult her by laughing at her words without first having with her a proper acquaintance. Inform her that there are plenty more useless heads about—thine own, for instance. Go!” he thundered, “and that instantly,” as the young man hesitated, “or I will depute someone else to carry both Idherbal’s head and thine own to the Lady Elissa.”

This was quite enough for the young noble. So terrible was the look in Maharbal’s eye that the face of everyone present, as well as his own, was blanched with fear. He rushed to Elissa and deposited the terrible emblem of the sanguinary conflict at her feet.

Maharbal rode to where she stood. With his bloody glaive he pointed first to the head at her feet, then to the trunk from which the blood was still oozing, forming a large crimson pool on the highway.

“See what thy laugh hath cost, Elissa,” quoth he. “Thou hast caused the death of a brave man, who was full of health and vigour, full of hope and happiness, only two minutes ago. That life which hath now gone to Eternity might just as well have been mine own. Thou little fool! I loved thee before, but now I hate thee for having been the cause of my shedding innocent blood. Get thee gone home; never let me see thy fair face again, since I have killed a man simply for its contemptuous smile! Art thou satisfied with thy work? Begone, Elissa, I say, begone, Hannibal’s daughter, or I will slay thee, too, for all that thou hast been to me, even as my wife! For thou art a dangerous woman. Begone, I say!”

Again Maharbal thundered these last words in such a terrible tone that everyone in the street trembled before him. He was well known for his bravery in battle; but no one had ever seen him in the fiercest conflict aroused like this. Even his followers tried vainly each to get behind his fellow, so terrified of his fearful anger was each and every one. As for Elissa herself, she at that moment once more loved Maharbal quite as much as she feared him, and loved him all the more because she did so fear him. Trembling, she fell upon her knees in the street before him, towering there on his war-horse, and looking the very picture of vengeance. Everyone else, from the great and sudden fear of the commander, who had showed so well his power to prove his strength, and right to command by force of arms, and from respect for the great Hannibal’s daughter, had now fallen back and out of earshot, so her words were heard by him alone.

“My lord Maharbal,” she said, with hands uplifted, “forgive me; I am but a woman, and I have dearly loved thee. I have given myself to thee, and proved my love. I have since foolishly hated thee; and by mine infamous conduct to-day, which hath, alas! been the cause of unhappy Idherbal’s death, I have proved my hate; and, indeed, I am much to blame, and grieve sorely for what hath happened. My lord! all thy suite can see me humbly kneeling to thee here, and Hannibal will hear of it as well, but ere I rise I ask thee for thy forgiveness, for thou art before heaven mine own lord, mine only love. And all the vows I made to thee shall last until my dying day; unless, that is,” she added reflectively, “some great need of our mutual country should ever compel me to sacrifice myself in the country’s cause. But know this, I love thee—I love thee, my lord and husband Maharbal.”

Maharbal sprang from his horse, and flung his bloody weapon into the street. He seized her in his mighty arms, lifting her bodily from the ground, and kissed her on the lips and on both cheeks. Picking up his sword, he then addressed the officers of his suite.

“Whoever there may be among ye who would smile at his commander let him now smile. And I will meet him here on foot in mortal combat before the Lady Elissa, who is my wife.”

But none smiled!

Hannibal was extremely displeased when he heard of the occurrence, for he could not afford to have his best officers killing each other on the eve of a campaign, simply owing to his daughter’s foolish behaviour. Therefore he instantly sent Elissa back to New Carthage without allowing her to see Maharbal again, and they were not to meet for years.

END OF PART II.