id not falter on finding himself alone. Hannibal! It was
Hannibal the great warrior, who was now to fight with him absolutely
alone! This singular duel, in view of the whole city looking on from the
walls, seemed arranged by his god! He was to rid Saguntum of her direst
enemy! Hercules had reserved this glory for him; and smiling with
satisfaction he raised the mace, striding straight toward the African.

Hannibal eluded him, stepping backward, springing aside with feline
agility, evading the encounter, until at last the priest was weary and
wished to end the struggle before new combatants should arrive. He
steadied himself on his colossal legs and hurled the club at Hannibal.
The enormous tree trunk tore through the air, while Hannibal, seeing it
coming, sprang aside. It grazed his shield with a thundering clang, and
fell far away amid a cloud of dust.

The African bent his knees at the shock, but recovered himself, and
flinging away his broken shield rushed at Theron with lifted sword.

The priest of Hercules, finding himself disarmed, experienced a
momentary qualm; he knew fear, believing himself in the presence of a
superior being against whom his strength could not avail, and turning
his back on Hannibal he fled toward Saguntum. The people on the walls
seeing his peril called to him. Some drew their bows to stop Hannibal
with their arrows, but they dared not shoot for fear of wounding
Theron. The Saguntines breathed hard at seeing their Hercules flee,
pursued by the warrior who was heading him off so that he should not
reach the city.

The giant being heavy and muscular, ran with difficulty over the ground
strewn as it was with dead and with the litter of the fight. He stumbled
over a shield; his knees bent; he arose again; but this time completely
nude. The lion skin had fallen from his shoulders, and lay among the
wrack of battle.

His pursuer caught up to him. The giant felt the cold steel sink into
the muscles of his back, and not caring to die like a fleeing slave in
sight of his entire city he turned quickly, extending his columnar arms
to crush his enemy between them; but before the two muscular masses
could encircle and mangle him, Hannibal had buried his sword again and
again in the side of the colossus, and Theron fell, pressing his hands
against his wounds and gazing at his dark red blood.

He looked at Hannibal without anger, with a childlike expression of
pain, and then he fixed his death-clouded