CHAPTER VII

  THE WALLS OF SAGUNTUM

  The wounding of Hannibal gave the city some days of respite. Thebesiegers remained non-combatant in their camp, watching Saguntum fromafar. The slingers came out in the mornings to exercise their arms byshooting against the wall, but aside from this, and from the arrow-shotswith which they replied from the city, there was no further exchange ofhostilities between the besiegers and the besieged.

  Bands of cavalry overran the domain foraging, and the immense multitudeof ferocious tribes finished the work of destruction, sacking the villasand country-houses. The groves were cleared away; each day they choppeddown new trees in order to supply the camp with wood, and in thesedenuded spaces the tiled roofs and towers could no longer be seen. Onlysmoking and blackened ruins appeared here and there through the desertedfields. A mosaic on a level with the ground was often the only vestigeof an elegant villa razed to its foundations by the invaders.

  The beleaguered people saw Hannibal's army rapidly swelling. Each daynew tribes arrived. It seemed as if all Iberia, subjugated by theprestige of Hannibal, were coming to camp around Saguntum, fired by thefame of its riches. They came on foot or on horseback, dirty, savage,covered with skins or dressed in esparto, carrying crescent-shapedshields and short two-edged swords, eager to fight, and bringing withthem showy presents for the African, whose glory dazzled them.

  Such of the Saguntines as had trafficked with the tribes of the interiorrecognized the new arrivals from the walls. They came from very far;some there were who had marched more than a month to reach Saguntum, andthey pointed out the Lusitanians, athletic of figure, of whom horribletales of ferocity were told; the Galicians, who lived on fish and bywashing and melting the gold of their rivers; the Asturians, who workedin iron; and the gloomy Basques whose language other nations could notunderstand. Mixed with them came fresh tribes from Baetica, who had beenslow in answering the Carthaginian's call; agile infantry, of oliveskin, their hair hanging down their backs, dressed in short white skirtswith broad purple borders, and carrying large round shields which servedthem as floats in crossing streams. The camp stretched along the riverand spread over the extensive valley, scattering finally in groups oftents and huts as far as the eye could see. It was a veritable city,larger than Saguntum, which advanced and advanced as if it would swallowher walls.

  The day following their courageous sally the Saguntines noticed greatactivity in the besieging camp--the funeral honors to the queen of theAmazons. They saw Asbyte's body borne in parade on a shield by thewomen-warriors; then, in the centre of the camp rose a column of smokefrom the enormous pyre which consumed her remains.

  The beleaguered people guessed the mood of the enemy. Hannibal waslying on his couch, and the army seemed depressed by the hero'ssuffering. The wizards came and went through the tent, examining thewound, and then they searched the surrounding mountains for mysteriousherbs to compound miraculous poultices.

  In Saguntum some of the most daring urged another sally to takeadvantage of that moment of depression for falling upon the enemy andputting them to flight. But the besieging camp was well guarded;Hannibal's brother with the principal captains were on the watch toavoid a surprise; the army lay behind earthen breastworks thrown uparound the camp as in a strong city, and they took advantage of thisopportunity to accomplish new work for protecting it from the danger ofattack. On the other hand the city was no less disheartened by the lossof the priest of Hercules. The people could not explain to themselveshow the African chieftain had put the gigantic Theron to death beforethe eyes of all Saguntum, and the more superstitious saw in this acelestial sign, the omen that the tutelary gods of the city were aboutto abandon it.

  The same determination as at the beginning was still displayed; all wereresolved to defend themselves; but the mocking joviality of the earlydays of the siege had disappeared. They believed that they scentedadversity round about them, and the ever swelling numbers of the enemydispirited them. Each morning they beheld the besieging camp increased.When would Hannibal's allies cease to come?

  The merry Grecian city of rich merchants and of pompous Panathenaicfestivals presented the solemn aspect of every beleaguered town. Thepeople from the fields who had sought refuge in the city camped in thestreets and squares, distilling the odor of a sick and suffering flock.In the temples the wounded dragged themselves to the bases of thecolumns, groaning; above, on the Acropolis, a funeral pyre smoked dayand night consuming the bodies of those who had died on the walls, orhad fallen in the streets victims of strange diseases engendered by thecongestion of the population.

  There were still enough provisions, but there was lack of fruits andvegetables; and the rich, divining the future, gathered in all theycould, seeing days of want ahead.

  In the poor wards they killed the horses and beasts of burden, roastingthe meat over flames kindled in the streets for the roofless refugees.

  On the walls, as well as on the Acropolis, all gazed impatiently out tosea. When would the auxiliaries come from Rome? What were the legatesfrom Saguntum to the great Republic doing?

  Frequently impatience caused the whole city to be cruelly deceived. Somemornings the lookouts posted in the tower of Hercules on the Acropolisraised a furious clangor of cymbals on spying sails upon the horizon.The people rushed to the crest of the hill, following with anxious eyesthe course of the white or red sails over the blue surface of theSucronian gulf. It was they! The Romans! The advance ships of thesuccoring fleet bound for the port! But after hours of anguishingexpectancy, their hopes were crushed on seeing that they were passingmerchant ships from Massilia or Emporion, or hostile triremes whichHasdrubal, the brother of Hannibal, was sending from New Carthage withprovisions for the army.

  Each disappointment increased the melancholy of the Saguntines. Theenemy's ranks were ever swelling, and the allies failed to come! Thecity would be lost! The enthusiasm of the defenders was revived onlywhen they found old Mopsus on the walls, who because of his sure aim atHannibal was the hero of the city, and the valorous Actaeon, who with thelight spirits of an Athenian, jesting and merry in the presence ofdanger, knew how to inspire fresh courage.

  Sonnica also appeared among them at the points of combat. She ran alongthe walls amidst the hissing arrows, and the poor citizens marveled atthe bravery of the opulent Greek woman who scorned the missiles of theenemy.

  Love for Actaeon and hatred of the besiegers made her bold. She wasenraged at the Carthaginians. From the height of the Acropolis oneafternoon she had seen the flames pouring from the roof of her villa.She saw the red tower of the dovecote topple, the beautiful groves whichsurrounded her house cut down, leaving nothing but a mound of rubbishand charred trunks; and she longed to be avenged, not for her lostriches, but for the destruction of the secluded retreat sacred to herlove, and of the sumptuous dwelling crowded with memories. Moreover, shewas nervous from the insufferable deprivation of this new life withinthe beleaguered city, where she was obliged to eat coarse food and tosleep in a room in her warehouse among the valuables piled together inthe disorder of flight, almost mingling with her slaves, and deprived ofher bath. There was no water in the city, except that in the cisternswhich the magistrates distributed with great parsimony, foreseeing anapproaching scarcity.

  This wretched life excited her, making her distinguished for warlikeaudacity. Occasionally she saw her lover, the soul of the defense;sometimes on the walls directing the slaves who were repairing them, atothers on the Acropolis with Mopsus to examine the situation of theenemy. He wished to take advantage of the lull caused by Hannibal'swound to put the city into a better state of defense, and meanwhileSonnica strolled along the wall talking with the young men, promisinghandsome rewards to those who most distinguished themselves, andexciting them to make an extraordinary sally in which the city shouldhurl itself en masse beyond the walls, crushing the enemy and sweepingthem onward into the sea.

  She went everywhere escorted by Erotion and Rhanto. Life in the narrowlimits, and a communit
y of danger, had drawn her to the two children,and they followed in her wake listening to her words with enthusiasticsmiles, and applauding the rich woman's warlike suggestions.

  Rhanto was no longer a shepherdess. One after another her goats had beendevoured in Sonnica's house, and with no other occupation than followingher mistress, clinging always to Erotion's hand, she regarded thesituation as one of joy, and had no desire that it should ever cease.Even the frowning Mopsus, the father of her beloved, unprotesting foundthem together, and often smiled at seeing them tranquil and happy,walking along the walls without fear of the besiegers.

  Danger had developed kindness in the people. Rich merchants elbowedslaves as they shot their arrows from the cover of the merlons; morethan one opulent Grecian woman was seen to tear her linen tunic to bindthe wounds of rude mercenaries, and Sonnica the rich, she who used toscorn the women of the city, now talked of forming a troop like that ofthe Amazons who followed Hannibal. Rhanto, content with this newsituation, so blinded by joy that she could not see the anguish andmisery which the town endured, pulled her lover away in moments ofcombat, snatched the bow from his hands, and dragging him from thebattlements, they hid beneath the hollow of a stairway at the foot ofthe rampart, and made love with fresh ardor, their pleasure seeming themore intense because threatened by the singing arrows and the cries andexclamations of pain and fury overhead.

  The respite lasted only twenty days. Breaking the silence of the campthe carpenters' hammers rung ceaselessly and the besieged saw graduallyrising a great wooden tower several stories high, taller than the wallsof the city.

  Hannibal regained his strength, and was eager to continue the siege. Inhis desire that the enemy should see him without delay, he left histent, in spite of his still open wound, he mounted his horse, and rodeout of the camp to gallop along the walls, followed by his captains.

  The Saguntines were dazed at the sight of him. He shone like a coal offire upon his black horse; the sun wrapped him in a splendor whichblinded, as if he were a divinity. He wore the cuirass and helmet madeof gold from the rivers which the Galician tribes had brought him as apresent. The chieftain preferred the bronze armor which he had everworn in his battles, but his parade around Saguntum was like aresurrection, and he wished the besieged to behold him dazzling andmajestic as a god.

  With the reappearance of Hannibal the siege began fiercer than before.The Saguntines understood from the first moment that the besiegers hadtaken advantage of the cessation of hostilities to augment theiroffensive power. With great effort they dragged up the enormous woodentower which they had constructed. Archers were stationed in thedifferent stories to shoot through the loopholes in the sides. The upperplatform dominated the wall in such wise that its catapult hurled greatstones over the merlons, sowing death among the defenders.

  Hannibal seemed everywhere at once, irritated by the tenacity of theSaguntines, and eager to terminate the siege without delay.

  It was impossible to remain uncovered on the walls. The tower had beenplaced near the projecting part of the city which Hannibal consideredthe weakest. Darts and stones fell ceaselessly and while the defenderssought refuge behind the merlons, unable to step out into the crenels,the battering-rams pounded at the base under the protection of thetower, hammering against the walls, and gradually weakening them; andthe Africans who had outlived the first assault now attacked the blocksof stone with more security, little by little opening a breach.

  The Saguntines, pale with the rage of impotence, endeavored in vain tostay the destruction. The besieging tower, rolling over a level tractimpelled by men hidden behind it, moved from place to place, scatteringdeath, and at times it drew so near that the besieged could hear thevoices of the bowmen who shot through the loopholes. Meanwhile, downbelow, at the base of the walls, the slow and obstinate work ofundermining continued.

  The more excitable citizens, raging with indignation at seeing theirwalls destroyed with impunity, leaned out into the crenels to shoot atthose who operated the battering-ram and worked with pickaxes; but nosooner did they appear than a stone fell upon them, or they tumbled overwith their bodies pierced by an arrow. The wall was strewn with the deadand dying. The wounded dragged themselves along contemplating withclouded gaze the shaft of the arrow sunk in their flesh.

  In vain the besieged shot against the tower. Stones rebounded from itswalls of logs with hollow clatter but without piercing them. It wasbristling with arrows, moving like a monstrous elephant, insensible towounds, and in vain the phalarics whistled through the air with theirtrail of sparks and smoke, for they could not set fire to the wet hideswith which the upper part of the tower was covered.

  The more prudent fled from those places where the besiegers concentratedtheir efforts, and the more audacious took their places ignorant how torepel the enemy, but with the stubborn determination of dying before heshould advance a step.

  Mopsus, the bowman, was the only one in the difficult situation whoinflicted damage upon the Carthaginians. With drawn bow he thrust hishead outside the merlons for an instant and shot, managing to send hisarrows into the loopholes of the tower, scattering death among thesoldiers who thought themselves secure. Erotion was at his side. Seeinghis father in a place of danger he repelled Rhanto at the foot of thesteps leading to the wall, paying no heed to her tears, and grasping hisbow he tried to imitate the old archer, challenging the men in thetower.

  But with the imprudence of youth he exposed almost his entire bodybeyond the merlon, and when he managed to plunge an arrow into the towerhe laughed, standing in the open crenel insulting the besiegers with hisboisterous peals of boyish laughter.

  A stone from a catapult in the tower came whizzing and struck his headwith a mournful crash. Blood and torn flesh spattered over those nearesthim, and the boy, doubling up as if made of rags, rolled through thecrenel and fell outside the wall. The arrows from his quiver struckroundabout his body with a metallic ring.

  "Mopsus! Mopsus!" shouted Actaeon, striving to restrain the bowman.

  The old man had rushed out upon the wall, wholly unprotected, his eyesglassy, his gray beard quivering, impotent from grief and rage.

  Three times he tried to draw his bow to shoot at the platform in thetower which held the catapult, but in spite of his efforts he could notbend his weapon. Grief, surprise, despair, at being unable toexterminate his enemies with a single blow deprived him of his strength.

  While he stood struggling with the rigid bow which seemed to rebelagainst him, the enemy's projectiles were hissing around his head.Finding himself powerless, aged in an instant by grief, gazing down uponthe mangled body of his son, and unable to avenge him, he uttered amoan, and summoning all the strength of his will he sprang outside thewall, and fell upon the corpse of Erotion. His head struck against thestones with a resounding thud, a stream of blood ran from it, and fatherand son formed a motionless pile a short distance from the assailants,who continued pounding with the battering-rams, and digging at the baseof the wall.

  The unequal struggle lasted almost throughout the day. The Saguntinesdefending this part of the wall could not repulse the advance of theenemy. They felt the dull thud of the pickaxes, the wall seemed to reelbeneath their feet, and they could do nothing to prevent the progress ofthe besiegers.

  Slowly the defenders began to retire. Actaeon, saddened by the tragicdeath of his compatriot, and convinced that it was useless to remain atthat point, advised them to retreat into the interior of the city. Hefell back with some of his men, and soon a tower, eaten away at its baseby the battering-ram, tottered and fell to the ground with a great roarof rubbish, and filled the air with dust. After this two other towerswere battered down, and a long stretch of wall collapsed, burying in thedebris the most obstinate defenders who had remained at their postsuntil the last moment.

  An awe-inspiring acclamation, a howl of savage joy from without greetedthe overthrow of the walls. From the city streets the desolated fieldsand one end of the camp could be seen through the open breach. Armsgli
ttered in the dense atmosphere, reddened by the dust of the shatteredwalls; dark bodies of troops could be seen advancing, and trumpet blastsresounded.

  "The assault! The Carthaginians are coming!"

  From all sides of the city armed men gathered. The narrow streets nearthe wall vomited groups and more groups who came shouting andbrandishing swords and axes, with the determined mien of those who haddecided to die. Clambering over the rubbish they began to take positionin the breach, and this open space, this broad gash in the city's girdleof stone, was protected by a motley crowd which flourished weapons andformed a solid unbreakable mass.

  Actaeon was in the first rank; near him he saw the prudent Alcon, who hadexchanged his staff for a sword, and many of the peace-loving merchantswhose astute faces seemed ennobled by the heroic resolution to dierather than give passage to the enemy.

  When the besiegers advanced to the assault they had to clash with theentire city. The walking-tower, the battering-rams, and the catapults,availed them nothing; the struggle was hand to hand, and the besieged nolonger used the phalaric, but the sword and the axe.

  Hannibal, on foot, guided the phalanxes, which marched with loweredlance or lifted sword. He was fighting like a soldier, anxious to endthis siege which was delaying his plans, believing this to be thedecisive moment, and that a supreme effort might make him master of thecity. With sharp words he encouraged the soldiers in the differentidioms of their tribes, reminding them of the great riches within thecity, of the beauty of the Greek women, of the large numbers of slavesinside those walls, and the Balearians attacked with lowered head,holding before them their wooden spears with points hardened by fire;the Celtiberians roared their war songs, beating on their breasts as onsonorous drums, drawing their sharp two-edged swords, and the Numidiansand Mauritanians, dismounting from their horses, moved from place toplace, cautious and sly, hurling upon the besieged the missiles whichthey carried in their girdles hidden beneath their white vestments.

  All in vain. The breach was a narrow throat. The Carthaginian army, inspite of superior numbers, had to contract its front to fight in such aconstricted space, and in this equalizing of forces, the Saguntinesretained an advantage, repelling the besiegers as often as they tried toclimb over the mound formed by the fallen wall. Swords sunk into fleshproducing atrocious wounds characteristic of ancient warfare; breastswere torn open by the brutal force of lances; combatants clinchedentwining their arms like tendrils, linking their legs, making theirpanting chests wheeze like bellows, and rolling on the ground bitingeach other in the face. Often when the victor arose he proudly displayeda piece of bleeding flesh between his teeth.

  Hannibal's troops rushed up the mound like a hurricane, and on itsapproach the mass of defenders swayed, but none fell back; they must diefirm at their post, for behind them was a compact multitude which forcedthem to be valiant, leaving no space for retreat.

  Thus the battle raged for hours. The mounds of dead between besieged andbesieger made the advance difficult. The sun had sunk low in the west,and Hannibal was exasperated by the stubborn resistance which mocked hisefforts. Still trusting in his lucky star he ordered the trumpetssounded for the final assault; but at that instant an unheard of thingoccurred which disconcerted the chieftain and sowed confusion among histroops.

  Actaeon did not know for a certainty whence came the voice. Perhaps itwas an hallucination produced by faith; perhaps the invention of someenthusiast tired of being on the defensive.

  "The Romans!" shouted a voice. "Our allies are coming!"

  The news spread with the credulity born of danger. From one to anotherthe story ran that the lookouts in the tower of Hercules had sighted afleet bound for the port, and none asked who had brought the inspiringnews to the breach in the walls. Everyone accepted it, adding by theirown invention fresh details, and eyes shone with joy, blanched facesflushed, and even the wounded, dragging themselves over the rubbishheap, waved their arms exclaiming:

  "The Romans! The Romans are coming!"

  Suddenly, without command, by common instinct, as if impelled by aninvisible force, they flung themselves through the breach, down theincline, falling like an avalanche upon the besiegers who were massedfor the final assault.

  The unexpectedness of the shock, the force of the surprise, the cry of"The Romans! The Romans!" which the Saguntines raised with suchconviction, wrought disruption among Hannibal's barbarian tribes. Theydefended themselves, but the whole city fell upon them; even the womenand children fought as on that morning when Theron died, and Hannibal'ssoldiers, broken into scattered groups, neither seeing nor hearing theirchiefs, fled precipitately toward their camp.

  Hannibal ran bellowing with rage, maddened at seeing that the besiegedrepelled his troops for the second time. Such was the blindness of hisanger that he rushed in among the enemy, and several times came nearfalling beneath their blows.

  The day was almost ended. The Saguntine soldiers reached the vicinity ofthe camp, while the unarmored citizens scattering throughout the battlefield dispatched the wounded and tried to set fire to the besiegingengines. They would have destroyed them all had it not been forMaherbal, Hannibal's lieutenant, who came out of the camp with somecohorts of cavalry. The besieged, unable to resist the cavalry on openground, began slowly to retire. When night closed in they reoccupied thebreach, commenting with joyful shouts upon the victory which mitigatedtheir disappointment over the non-appearance of the Romans.

  Actaeon, with those Saguntines who had most distinguished themselves inthe battles, set to work fortifying the city. He explained to the oldmen of the Senate how difficult it would be long to defend the opening.It was impossible to repeat the prodigy of that afternoon many times;and by the light of torches the people spent the whole night workingbehind the breach, throwing down tiled roofs and demolishing walls.

  Merchants and slaves, rich city dames and women from the suburbs, allmingled together, wielding pickaxes, rolling stones and carrying basketsof clay. Even the Ancients of the Senate took part in this titanic work,which lasted throughout the night and a great part of the following day.

  Euphobias the philosopher, who remained idle in spite of the insults ofthose who worked, ironically recalled the memory of the primitivefounders of the city, the Cyclopes who moved stones as big as mountainsand had thrown up the base of the Acropolis.

  The labor was not finished until the next afternoon, and at the samemoment the besieging army began to stir. It marched solidly to theassault, silently, sullenly, revealing the fixed determination of takingpossession at the first onset of that breach which had put them to shamethe day before.

  They passed through the clouds of stones and arrows which the besiegedhurled at them, and the cohorts leading on a run climbed up the pile ofdebris, struggling with the more audacious Saguntines, who stilldisputed passage through the breach. After a short conflict thebesiegers made themselves masters of the entrance to the city, and theyburst into exclamations of triumph.

  Hannibal marched intrepidly at the head of his soldiers; but on gainingthe crest of the pile in the breach he stepped backward with anexpression of disgust.

  Before him stretched a broad waste of demolished houses, and beyond thehills of debris rose a second monstrous wall, constructed in haste, asif an enormous broom had swept the desolated structures of the interiorto the entrance of the city. Great, square-hewn stones, chunks ofmasonry, broken columns, were laid with the regularity of blocks in awall, and the interstices were chinked with fresh clay. This wallquickly raised by a supreme effort of the whole city was taller than theprevious one, and in the form of a curve it joined with the two curtainsof the ancient walls which were still standing.

  Hannibal paled with wrath on seeing that all his efforts had served onlyto make him master of a pitiful little piece of ground covered by heapsof ruins and that by prodigious skill the walls which he had battereddown had risen again beyond in a single night. Saguntum would destroyher houses to refortify herself with new barriers, cutting off hispassage! H
e would have to conquer the ground inch by inch, street bystreet, and it might cost him months and years to narrow it down, firstaround the Forum, then up to the hill of the Acropolis, before he couldsucceed in making it surrender.

  On the summit of their new wall the Saguntines showed themselves asresolute as the day before, and their bows and slings prevented theassault of the enemy, who ended by falling back, remaining under coverof the debris at the breach.

  Hannibal stood outside the city wall, contemplating the heights of theAcropolis. He realized that he might gradually sacrifice his whole armyif he continued attacking Saguntum on the level and weaker side wherethe besieged defended the ground so tenaciously. Calling Maherbal andhis brother Mago, he laid before them the necessity of capturing aposition on the hill, and of assaulting a portion of the immenseAcropolis to attack the city from that direction, obliging it tosurrender.

  Several days went by without resumption of hostilities on the sidetoward the river. The engines of war had been moved over to the foot ofthe hill, and they directed their heavy projectiles against the farthestwalls of the Acropolis. These were old and had not been repaired, sincethe Saguntines trusted in the impregnability of the steeps.

  Moreover the number of defenders was insufficient to garrison theextensive precincts of Saguntum, while the besieger had at his disposalan immense armed multitude which could hurl itself against severalplaces at once.

  One night in the Forum, Actaeon encountered Sonnica, who was seeking him,followed by Alcon the Prudent.

  "The Elders have need of you," said the beautiful Greek woman, with atone of sadness. "Behold Alcon, who wishes to speak with you."

  "Listen, Athenian," said the Saguntine gravely. "The days are passingand our needed succor does not come from Rome. Is it because our legateshave been unable to reach the territory of the allied nation, and thatthe Senate of the great Republic is ignorant of our situation? Is itbecause Rome imagines that Hannibal, repenting of his audacity, hasraised the siege? We need to know what our ally thinks concerning us. Wewish the Senate of Rome to know in detail what Saguntum is doing, andthe Ancients, at my suggestion, have thought of you."

  "Of me? And what do they wish?" asked Actaeon in surprise, looking at themournful Sonnica.

  "They wish you to start for Rome this very night. Here is gold! Takealso these tablets which will serve as credentials, so that the Senateshall recognize you as an embassador extraordinary from Saguntum. We arenot sending you to a festival. The exit is difficult, and it will beeven more difficult to find, on these enemy-infested shores, anyone toconvey you to Rome. You should start to-night; this moment, if possible;letting yourself down from the walls of the Acropolis, on the sidetoward the mountains where there are fewer enemies; to-morrow may betoo late. Fly, and return soon with the aid which we await withanguish!"

  Actaeon took the gold and the tablets which Alcon offered him, but notwithout making excuses, realizing the gravity of the undertaking.

  "No one can perform the mission better," said the Saguntine; "that iswhy I have turned to you. Your life has been spent running over theworld; you speak many tongues; and you are not lacking in finesse andvalor. Are you acquainted with Rome?"

  "No, my father's father made war against her, under orders of Pyrrhus."

  "Then go to her now as a friend, as an ally, and may the gods grant thatsome day we shall bless the moment in which you came to Saguntum!"

  Actaeon was not eager to start. It seemed to him a shameful act toabandon the city at that critical moment, to leave Sonnica within abesieged town.

  "I am a stranger, Alcon," he said simply. "No tie of blood unites me toyour fate. Are you not afraid that I shall flee forever, leaving youabandoned?"

  "No, Athenian, I know you, and that is why I have stood responsible foryour fidelity to the Elders. Sonnica also has sworn that you will returnif you do not fall into the power of the enemy."

  The Greek looked at his beloved as if asking her whether he should go,and she bowed her head, resigned to the sacrifice. Actaeon then expressedhimself as ready.

  "Farewell, Alcon! Tell the Elders that the Athenian Actaeon will becrucified in Hannibal's camp or he will appear before the Senate of Romepresenting your suit."

  He kissed Sonnica on the eyes again and again, and the beautiful Greekwoman, restraining her tears, pleaded to be allowed to follow him alongwith Alcon as far as the summit of the Acropolis, that she might see hima few moments longer.

  The three walked in the dark across the esplanades of the ancient city,along the walls of the Acropolis. They had blown out their torch inorder not to attract the attention of the besiegers, and they went on,guided by the diffused light of the stars, which seemed to shine withmore brilliancy, as if intensified by the cold of the night which wasone of the first of winter.

  Alcon was searching for a place on the wall of which he had been told bysome of the Elders who were more familiar with the Acropolis. When theyhad found it the Saguntine groped in the dark until he reached the endof a heavy rope fastened to a merlon, and he flung it over into space.

  The departure took place in absolute secret. The very Elders who hadplanned the journey for their ambassador and had arranged his flight,concealed themselves and did not witness it. Sonnica embraced Actaeon,sobbing, and clinging to his neck.

  "Go quickly, Athenian," said the Saguntine impatiently. "This first hourof the night is the best; many groups of soldiers are still stirringaround the camps before going to sleep. You can pass through now withoutbeing observed, while later, in the silence of the night, the sentinelswill challenge you."

  Actaeon freed himself from Sonnica's arms, and leaning over the walls hegrasped the rope in the darkness.

  "Have confidence in our gods," said Alcon, as a parting word. "Althoughit may seem as if they have abandoned us, they ever watch over Saguntum.Not long ago a fugitive slave from the camp revealed before the Eldersthat the Vaccaei and the Carpetani, exasperated by the robbery of thedetachments which Hannibal sent to gather supplies, have revoltedagainst him, and have beheaded his emissaries. It seems that Hannibal,with a part of his army, will have to abandon the siege and go to punishthem. We shall have fewer enemies before us, and if you return with thelegions from Rome, Saguntum will be for the Carthaginians what theAEgates Islands were for them in Sicily. Ah! How much better is peace!"

  With this melancholy exclamation Alcon said farewell to the Greek, whodescended the rope in silence. His feet soon rested upon a part of therock on which the wall stood. He let go the rope and began groping hisway down, catching hold, in his precipitous descent, of the scrawnyolive trees which twisted over the heights as if complaining of theasperity of the rocks.

  At the feet of the Greek, in the black solitude of the plain, glitteredthe light of camp fires. Perhaps they were advance guards of the campwatching that part of the mountain, or marauders who followed the army,and had established themselves there out of Hannibal's sight.

  Actaeon watched the plain and picked his way cautiously, crouching alongby a stony ridge, stopping often to listen, holding his breath. Hethought he was being shadowed, that someone was skulking behind him.Not far away blazed a great fire, and against its lurid smokesilhouettes of men and women were outlined.

  When he stood erect to explore the dark fields in order to circle awayfrom the fire, someone suddenly caught him by the shoulders, and ahoarse voice murmured in his ears, between peals of loud and stupidlaughter:

  "Now I have you at last!----You can not hide yourself from me!"

  Actaeon squirmed from the clutching hands, and tugging at the broad knifehe wore in his belt sprang in front of the unknown in an attitude ofdefense. It was a woman! By the dim starlight the Greek beheld hergesture of indecision and surprise.

  "Are you not Geryon the slinger?" she murmured, holding her hands out tothe 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 himthe first night of his ar
rival in Saguntum. She seemed even moresurprised than the Athenian at the meeting.

  "Is it you, Actaeon? 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 Sonnica the rich; you do not want to die like thosemerchants whom Hannibal the invincible will put to the knife! You aredoing well! Fly! Fly far away!"

  She glanced apprehensively at the camp fire as if she feared theapproach of the soldiers who were warming themselves around it, laughingand drinking with a group of _lupas_ from the port.

  The miserable harlot, in lowered voice, told the Greek why she wasthere. She was the favorite of Geryon, a Balearic slinger. He had lefthis companions a moment before, and had got out of her way so as not tohave to give her the wages he had just received, and in searching forhim she had stumbled upon Actaeon. He might return, or his companionsmight approach, attracted by their voices; it was dangerous for Actaeonto remain where he was.

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I want to reach the coast, and follow along it until I find a fishingsmack which will take me to Emporion or to Denia. I have money to pay mypassage. Afterward I will look for a ship to take me away, very faraway."

  "You will not return, will you? I do not wish you to return. If you onlyknew how often I have thought of you while men were killing each otheron the walls! I shall never see you again, but I would rather not seeyou than have you remain in the city or become the slave of my lover theslinger. Hannibal will finish all of them! Ah, cruel city! And how Ilong to see all those rich women fall before Hannibal's troops--thosewomen who used to have us beaten when we came near them at the port!"

  The poor harlot, extending her hand to the Greek, began to guide himthrough the fields.

  "Come!" she murmured; "I will conduct you to the beach, and from thereyou can continue on your way without other help than that of the gods.Seeing you with me they will think you are a Celtiberian soldier withhis woman, looking for a place to spend the night. Come! I fed you thefirst night you came here, and I will save you on this last."

  They drew near the shore. As they passed several camp fires they werehailed by obscene calls from the soldiers and the women who thought theman amorous pair in search of a hiding-place. Some armed groups allowedthem to pass without the slightest suspicion.

  The murmur of the waves on the sand grew louder. They were walkingthrough the rushes, sinking into the warm and oozy bottom of the lagoonformed by the overflow of the tide.

  The poor _lupa_ stood still.

  "Here I leave you, Actaeon. If you wished I would follow you as yourslave! But you do not wish it; I know what I am----I can be nothing toyou! You are going away forever, but I am content because you arefleeing from Sonnica. Before we part, kiss me, my divinity! No, not onthe eyes----on the mouth----thus!"

  The Athenian, with tender commiseration, moved by the kindness of themiserable creature, kissed the dry and flaccid lips, from which escapedthe insufferable odor of the wine of the Balearic slingers.