“Oh, Elissa, dear Elissa!” replied the fair maid, in sad but musical tones, “believe me that I trust in thee and in the goddess Tanais also; but ’tis not for myself I weep. ’Tis with fear for my beloved Allucius. Canst thou or the goddess Tanais protect him? Alas! I fear ’tis not in thy power, and I weep lest he may fall.”
“Allucius, Prince of the Celtiberians, must do his duty with the rest of us,” rejoined Elissa straightforwardly but not unkindly; “and he hath a post of honour, since I have placed him as second in command to Armes at the city gate. But should he fall, he will die a most honourable death, and one that will be worthy of thee. Therefore, sweet one, put a more cheerful face upon the matter, I pray thee, for thou wouldst not have him act the poltroon, and shield himself behind thy chiton, wouldst thou? But thou canst pray to the gods for him.”
“Nay, nay,” cried the girl proudly, drawing herself up and dashing away her tears, “I would not have him other than a noble soldier. I thank thee for teaching me my duty, Elissa, and I will be brave.”
“I think thou art making a most unnecessary fuss, Idalia,” here interrupted the Princess Cœcilia spitefully. “What folly thou dost talk about this Allucius. Why trouble about him at all when thou knowest that, with thy youth and thy beauty, thou are safe thyself? For the worst that can happen to thee is that thou mayst fall perchance to the lot of some Roman noble. Who knows but Scipio might take a fancy to thee himself. Thou hast already met him, since thou wast with Elissa at the Court of Syphax.”
“Princess Cœcilia!” exclaimed Idalia.
But Cœcilia continued peevishly in a torrent of words: “Nay, interrupt me not; I know what thou wouldst say, that ’tis merely for Elissa he hath come here, and that ’tis on account of her late foolish coquettings with him in Numidia that all these miseries are come upon us. For what other reason, save to make her his, hath he come here to attack us women instead of going to fight Hasdrubal or Mago as, had he been worth calling a man, he would have done? But fear not thou, Idalia, those Romans are not particular as to whether they have one girl or twenty; and since Elissa hath brought him here, and thou art moreover a worshipper of Tanais, thou wilt doubtless be but too pleased to save thyself at the expense of thine honour.”
“Princess Cœcilia!” exclaimed Elissa, whose eyes were flaming with fury as she rose to her feet, “begone! retire to thine apartment, and see thou stir not thence without mine orders. For despite thy calumnies, I do much misdoubt me but ’tis thine own traitorous conduct that hath brought the Romans upon us. Should it prove so, beware! Cleandra, I beg thee accompany the princess to her apartment, and give instructions to the palace guard that mine aunt is to be considered a prisoner.”
“Oh! in sooth, Elissa!” exclaimed the now utterly cowed little princess, turning pale, “in good sooth, Elissa, thou hast altogether misunderstood me. I did but speak in jest. Indeed, I did not mean a word.”
“Begone!” replied Elissa, “I will not hear thee more,” and she waved her hand to Cleandra to lead her off.
This Cleandra did with some difficulty, for the little woman’s whole body was now convulsed with sobs, and her knees trembled and shook so together that she could scarcely stand. It was almost impossible not to feel pity for her as the huge tears washed the paint from her now considerably damaged complexion. But Cleandra obeyed her orders, and then rejoined her mistress and friend, to whose home in Spain she had voluntarily returned from Carthage upon her husband’s recent death in a drunken brawl. This she had done, even although by doing so she was exposing herself to a renewal of the state of slavery in which she had been before her departure. But the ties of mutual gratitude that united Elissa and Cleandra were so great that there could scarcely now be considered to exist ought save friendship between them.