"Poor child! I see her only occasionally. She will not stay here; I have her brought to me so that I can watch over her, but at the first opportunity she slips away. Grief over Erotion's death has caused her to lose her reason. Day and night she wanders along the walls. She goes where the battle rages fiercest, and she passes among flying missiles as if she does not see them. By night I hear from afar the strange dirges which she chants to her Erotion; sometimes she appears crowned with a wreath of those flowers which grow on the walls, and she asks for the son of Mopsus, as if he were hidden among the defenders. The people believe that she is in communication with the gods, and they look upon her with awe and ask her what will be the fate of Saguntum."
The two spent the night amidst the piled up riches in the warehouse wrapped in costly tapestries, insensible to their surroundings, as if they were still in the rich villa on the domain, at the end of one of those banquets which had so scandalized many of the Saguntines.
Days passed. The city was growing weaker, but the people, still firm in their resolution, continued the defense, with stomachs faint from starvation. The besiegers made no violent assaults. Hannibal guessed the condition of the city, and, desirous of avoiding further shedding of the blood of his troops, he allowed time to pass, maintaining only a rigid blockade, waiting for hunger and pestilence to complete his triumph.
The mortality in the streets increased. There was no longer any one left to gather up the dead; the crematory fire on the Acropolis had gone out. Corpses, abandoned in the doorways of their homes, were covered with loathsome insects, and birds of rapine audaciously came down by night into the heart of the city disputing the prey of vagabond dogs which prowled the streets with lolling tongues and flaming eyes.
Vile smelling people of savage aspect, possessed by the delirium of starvation, dragged themselves cautiously through the streets armed with clubs, stones, and missiles. They went foraging as soon as night fell. Euphobias guided them, giving counsel with majestic emphasis, as if he were a great captain commanding his army. When they managed to kill a crow or a savage dog they carried it to the Forum and roasted it over a bonfire, quarreling violently over the noisome morsels, while the rich citizens stood aloof, faint with hunger but nauseated by such horrors.
Spring had set in. It was a gloomy springtime, revealed to the besiegers by little flowers growing up among the weeds in the crevices of the towers and on the roofs of the houses. Winter was over, and yet it was cold in Saguntum, with a tomb-like chill which the besieged felt in the very marrow of their bones. The sun shone, but the city seemed obscured by a fetid mist which imparted to people and to houses a leaden color.
One morning, on his way to the upper part of the mount where the defense continued, Actæon met the prudent Alcon in the Forum. This loyal citizen revealed discouragement in his dejected appearance.
"Athenian," he said, with a mysterious expression, "I am resolved that this must end. The city can resist no further. She has waited long enough for aid from Rome. Let Saguntum fall, and let Rome be filled with shame because of her infidelity to her allies. This day I shall go to Hannibal's camp and sue for peace."
"Have you considered it carefully?" exclaimed the Greek. "Do you not fear the indignation of your people when they see you treating with the enemy?"
"I love my city well, and I cannot remain impassive and witness its sacrifice, its interminable agony. Few are aware of the actual conditions, but I can tell you, Actæon, because you are discreet. We are much worse off than the people realize. There is not a scrap of meat left for those who are defending our walls. This morning there was nothing but mud in the bottom of the cisterns. We have no water. A few days more of resistance and we shall be forced to eat dead bodies like those soulless creatures who feed by night. We shall have to kill the children to placate our thirst with their blood."