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.”