ble missile
should not penetrate the armor, its flames set fire to the clothing; the
combatants threw down their arms to put out the fire, and thus stood
exposed to the blows of the enemy. The same warriors who had fought
against the most determined and barbaric tribes of Iberia, flung away
their shields and fled before those meteors of fire which came from the
walls of Saguntum whistling and scattering sparks.

Thus time passed; the besiegers gained nothing, and Hannibal was
dominated by a galling impatience. Fire of Baal! He, chained to these
walls which he could not make his own, while Hanno's faction was
conspiring in Carthage, preparing the downfall of the Barcas if he
should fail in taking Saguntum; planning, perhaps, his delivery to Rome
when she should demand him on finding her treaties violated. In despair
he threw himself back once more upon his couch, seeking the oblivion of
sleep with the eagerness of one who must needs forget. He blew out the
light, but lay open-eyed in the darkness. The bluish glint of the moon
filtered through an opening in the cupola of his tent, shimmering upon
the cuirasses which in the darkness shone like phosphorescent fishes.
Outside, the nightingale continued singing.

Hannibal grew frantic. Accursed bird that was keeping him awake! He
could sleep in the din of battle! Accustomed from boyhood to the camp,
the hoarse songs of the mercenaries and the whinnying of horses would
fail to arouse him, and the harsh trumpet-blast of war had been his
lullaby. But the sweet song of that bird, its incessant melodious trill,
annoyed him like the buzzing of a hornet.

He sprang from his couch; he groped in the dark amid the litter of arms,
fabrics, and furniture; he burst out through the doorway of his tent,
and the fresh night soothed his tempestuous spirit.

The moon was shining in a cloudless sky; the breeze was warm, although
it was the end of autumn; stars scintillated; the nightingale's trills
were answered by another and yet another bird, throughout the expanse of
the valley. The camp lay at rest. The flames were flickering out from
dying bonfires near which soldiers were sleeping along with women and
children of the army, wrapped in rags and in rich stolen fabrics; the
horses picketed to the ground, pointed their nodding heads in a straight
line; in the distance, the beleaguered city crouched dark and silent as
if asleep, but a faint glow escaping through loopholes in its walls
produ