on long held the memory of the meeting. The
light-heartedness of the loving couple filled him with envy.

The summer months passed. The vines of the domain ripened their
clusters, the farmers rejoiced in the prospect of the coming crop hidden
beneath the leaves, but from time to time, like a gloomy trumpet blast,
came news of Hannibal, of his victories over the tribes of the interior
who refused to recognize him, and of his imperious demands upon
Saguntum.

Actaeon scented the nearness of war, and this, which had ever been his
principal occupation, now caused him only sorrow. He had grown to love
this beautiful land as dearly as Greece. His soul, saturated with the
sweet peace of the fertile fields, and of the rich industrious city, was
saddened at the thought that this life was to be paralyzed. His
existence had been spent amid struggles and adventures; and now, rich
and happy, when he longed for peace in a corner where he hoped to end
his days, war, like a forgotten mistress who presents herself
inopportunely, returned unbidden, forcing him anew to cruelty and
destruction.

One afternoon, at the end of summer, he was pondering these things as he
was riding toward the city. In the oblique rays of the sun the
industrious bees, searching out the wild flowers, glistened like golden
buttons. The vintagers were singing in the vineyards, stooping over
their baskets. Actaeon saw one of the slaves whom Sonnica kept in her
warehouses in Saguntum come running from the direction of the city.

He stopped panting before Actaeon. He was almost speechless from fatigue,
and his broken words revealed his alarm. Hannibal was coming from the
direction of Saetabis! The people from the country were crowding into the
city in terror, driving their flocks before them. They had not seen the
invader but they ran, horrified by the tales of the fugitives who were
fleeing from the frontiers of the Saguntine territory. The Carthaginians
had crossed the border; they were people of ferocious aspect, who bore
strange arms, who looted the villages, and set them on fire. He was
running to tell his mistress that she might take refuge in the city.

He rushed on toward Sonnica's villa. The Greek hesitated a moment; he
deliberated whether he should go back in search of his beloved, but he
ended by setting out on a gallop toward the city, and as he neared it,
he rode at full speed around the walls. He went for a look at the
highway from the mountains wh