The Phocian looked astonished at my agitation.
I soon recovered my composure, and asked whether there were any men amongst the captives upon whose courage and discretion he could rely. He informed me that his own brother was one, and that five of the others were his cousins; he added, moreover, that the wife of one of the cousins had been carried off on board the Phœnician ship.
"Call them forward!" I said; and in a few minutes six young men, all apparently strong and active, stood before me.
"You would like to see your son again?"
"My son!" echoed the man. "Restore my son, and you shall be counted divine indeed."
I informed him that the Phœnician who had borne him off was my avowed and mortal enemy. "But serve me with fidelity," I added, "and you may recover your son even yet."
Turning to Hannibal, I ordered him to provide the seven men with kitonets and arms, and to take them into his own force; the remainder I sent to assist the rowers. It would be easy, I knew, to dispose of them all at Utica or Carthage, where there is a constant demand both for oarsmen and for mercenaries.
The seven Phocians kissed my hands, and wept for joy; the remainder went below with lighter hearts than they had brought on board.