Elissa, who had fallen exhausted and panting upon a divan, looked at her torn-up credentials, and realised what she had done. She had deeply offended this powerful monarch, by whose aid she had hoped she might restore the now waning fortunes of Carthage. What should she do now? The early teachings of her father came to her mind. Had he not often told her that in nought was she ever to think of self where the welfare of her country was concerned—that not even personal shame was to be considered in such a case, but that absolutely she was bound under all circumstances to think of her duty to her country alone, of herself not at all. And had not the time now come when she must make a great sacrifice? Was she merely for the sake of her own outraged vanity—it might even be outraged honour—to desert her country’s cause when such a mighty issue was at stake?
“No!” Elissa cried violently, springing to her feet. “If ever I must sacrifice myself for my country I must sacrifice myself now, and the gods will forgive me, for ’twill be for the glory of Carthage.”
Thus her resolve was made as she realised her duty. And then she covered her eyes with her hands and wept softly. For she was thinking of Scipio, who loved her so dearly, and whom she knew in her heart she loved, and of the honour and fidelity which she had, despite that new love, preserved in vain for Maharbal. And she vaguely wished that some such terrible crisis as this now staring her in the face had arisen to make her yield to the prayers and supplications of a Scipio whom she loved and honoured, rather than to the brutal threats and menaces of a Philip whom she loathed and despised. But the die was now cast; so calling Cleandra to her, she told her all.
CHAPTER III.
A SACRIFICE.
As in the morning the sight of the crimson and gold hangings of the tent gradually impressed upon Elissa the sense of her surroundings, a weight like lead fell upon her heart; but with a prayer to the gods that they might inspire her with strength to carry out her great and terrible resolve, she rose. A small gong was at hand, she beat upon it for Cleandra; but instead of Cleandra, there entered a stranger.
“Who art thou?” inquired Elissa haughtily, “and where is Cleandra?”
“My name is Chloe, oh lady Elissa, and I have been deputed to thy service by the king. Thine attendant Cleandra was removed hence last night; she hath, by the king’s orders, taken up mine own duties as chief lady in attendance upon Queen Polycratia. His Majesty hath charged me with his royal greetings unto thee, and bids me inform thee that at such time as thou shalt be prepared to receive him he will present himself before thy noble presence to inquire for thy welfare.”
Elissa’s pride and anger rose upon hearing that Cleandra had been taken from her. She was about to give some furious reply when her eye fell upon the torn pieces of paper still lying where the king had spurned them with his foot the previous night, and she refrained. “I am,” she murmured to herself, “but as a fly in the web of some poisonous spider, and have, alas! no power to withdraw myself from the trammels of its horrid folds. But though alone and entangled, yet will I be strong.”
“Leave me to mine ablutions,” she commanded, “and inform thy master that I will see him in an hour’s space.”
At the appointed hour the sound of martial music heralded the king’s approach, while the clanging of arms without denoted the guards saluting. As he entered the tent, the flood of sunlight streamed in with him and lighted upon his figure. The bright beams of morning, shining on his brilliant arms, made him, as he stood there in all the vigour and beauty of youthful manhood, seem as ’twere the sun-god Apollo himself who had alighted upon earth. But Elissa groaned inwardly, to think that one so noble in his bearing could yet be so utterly ignoble in his life.