know that there are
two things that Hannibal prizes most among men: a friend who was once
an enemy, and a friend who dares to speak the truth."

Calavius had recovered his composure during this speech.

"I would not have you imagine, my Lord," he began, "but that my son
speaks as he believes and in order that you may have full information;
yet, he is ill to-day in body and mind, and, even were it not so, I am
older than he and know more of men. That Decius Magius has
sympathizers, it is vain to deny; but that they are many or
influential, I, who know the Capuans, aver is not the case. As for our
horsemen, it is easy to see that their safety demands an apparent
friendship for Rome. It is not wise for three hundred to revile thirty
thousand."

Hannibal had continued to keep his gaze upon Perolla, scarcely
listening to his father's words. In the young man's face something of
surprise had mingled with his half-defiant, half-moody expression.

"I do not ask of you, my son," pursued the general, "that you whose
heart was but lately with our enemies, should love and trust us at
once. That were the part of a hypocrite, and I honour you, both for
the filial piety that threw down your preference before your father's
will, and for the slowness with which your heart follows your act.
Grant me but this: that you judge us fairly by our deeds, and if we
prove not better friends than Rome, return to them in peace and safety.
Meanwhile there is a horse with crimson mane and feet that shall be led
from my stable to yours in the morning. Ride him, and remember that
Hannibal honours courage, filial obedience, and truth--all in like
measure."

Subdued applause from both tables followed these words, but the face of
Perolla lost but little of its stubborn hostility. Hannibal turned
away, and Calavius and Ninius sought to cover by eager talking the
young man's ungracious reception of such signal favour. The faces of
the Carthaginians remained for the most part impassive; only their dark
eyes seemed to sparkle, either with wine or suppressed passion. Marcia
still felt that one pair was trying to look through her, and she was
conscious that Silenus, the Sicilian Greek, was making eager and
indecorous love to one of the women at the other table. Another of the
latter had just ventured on some light badinage with the chief guest,
in whose face smiles had chased away all the abstraction of the earlier
hours. He answered her as ligh