he laughed, standing in the open crenel insulting the besiegers with his
boisterous peals of boyish laughter.

A stone from a catapult in the tower came whizzing and struck his head
with a mournful crash. Blood and torn flesh spattered over those nearest
him, and the boy, doubling up as if made of rags, rolled through the
crenel and fell outside the wall. The arrows from his quiver struck
roundabout 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 eyes
glassy, his gray beard quivering, impotent from grief and rage.

Three times he tried to draw his bow to shoot at the platform in the
tower which held the catapult, but in spite of his efforts he could not
bend his weapon. Grief, surprise, despair, at being unable to
exterminate his enemies with a single blow deprived him of his strength.

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

The unequal struggle lasted almost throughout the day. The Saguntines
defending this part of the wall could not repulse the advance of the
enemy. They felt the dull thud of the pickaxes, the wall seemed to reel
beneath their feet, and they could do nothing to prevent the progress of
the besiegers.

Slowly the defenders began to retire. Actaeon, saddened by the tragic
death of his compatriot, and convinced that it was useless to remain at
that point, advised them to retreat into the interior of the city. He
fell back with some of his men, and soon a tower, eaten away at its base
by the battering-ram, tottered and fell to the ground with a great roar
of rubbish, and filled the air with dust. After this two other towers
were battered down, and a long stretch of wall collapsed, burying in the
debris the most obstinate defenders who had remained at their posts
until the last moment.