Actæon watched the plain and picked his way cautiously, crouching along by a stony ridge, stopping often to listen, holding his breath. He thought he was being shadowed, that someone was skulking behind him. Not far away blazed a great fire, and against its lurid smoke silhouettes of men and women were outlined.
When he stood erect to explore the dark fields in order to circle away from the fire, someone suddenly caught him by the shoulders, and a hoarse voice murmured in his ears, between peals of loud and stupid laughter:
"Now I have you at last!——You can not hide yourself from me!"
Actæon squirmed from the clutching hands, and tugging at the broad knife he wore in his belt sprang in front of the unknown in an attitude of defense. It was a woman! By the dim starlight the Greek beheld her gesture of indecision and surprise.
"Are you not Geryon the slinger?" she murmured, holding her hands out to the Athenian.
They stared at each other, their faces almost meeting in the darkness, and the Greek recognized in the woman the unhappy lupa who had fed him the first night of his arrival in Saguntum. She seemed even more surprised than the Athenian at the meeting.
"Is it you, Actæon? It seems as if the gods put me in your path, although you scorn me. You are running away from the city, are you not? You must be tired of Sónnica the rich; you do not want to die like those merchants whom Hannibal the invincible will put to the knife! You are doing well! Fly! Fly far away!"
She glanced apprehensively at the camp fire as if she feared the approach of the soldiers who were warming themselves around it, laughing and drinking with a group of lupas from the port.
The miserable harlot, in lowered voice, told the Greek why she was there. She was the favorite of Geryon, a Balearic slinger. He had left his companions a moment before, and had got out of her way so as not to have to give her the wages he had just received, and in searching for him she had stumbled upon Actæon. He might return, or his companions might approach, attracted by their voices; it was dangerous for Actæon to remain where he was.
"What are you going to do?"