tly, but with indifference, and turned
to Marcia.

"And what says our Roman beauty?" he asked. "She has come boldly and
far to see her enemies. Who knows but she has a boon to beg."

Again Marcia noted disturbance under Calavius' smile. He was wondering
at the general's knowledge. Then he realized that Mago's report must
be its basis, and his face cleared.

"Yes, truly, I _have_ a boon to ask," replied Marcia, fixing her great
eyes upon the bearded front, stern through its smiles. "It is that you
will spare one house in Italy from ravage and destruction."

"And where may this house be?" he asked in bantering tones. "We shall
leave many standing, but this one most surely of all."

"It is upon the brow of the Palatine Hill--" she began, and then a
burst of applause gave notice that the compliment had struck home. "It
is my father's," she concluded, blushing.

Calavius was in ecstasy over the graceful tact of his protege. No
Capuan or Greek could have done better. Hannibal eyed her with a
curious expression, half admiring, half doubtful.

"I grant the boon--freely," he said. Then, fixing her with his gaze,
he went on, "And when will you claim it?"

"The son of Hamilcar knows best," replied Marcia, casting down her
eyes, and again she felt the approval of her host and his friends.

That Hannibal was pleased and flattered was evident, and yet there was
a certain reserve in his manner. Possibly he suspected that she wished
to provoke an announcement of his plans; perhaps an even deeper insight
led him near to a fuller conception of her purpose.

"Yes, it is truly for us to say," he said loudly, glancing around the
board; then, turning quickly to Marcia: "I understand that you
counselled delay until spring to my brother, Mago. Why?"

So frank a question, so different from all that had been told of the
more than Oriental craft of the Carthaginians, and one that went so
straight to the motive of her presence, threw Marcia into some
confusion. Calavius noticed it, and, fearing lest she might say
something to do away with the impression of her former tact, he came to
the rescue.

"Surely we shall not insult my Lord Bacchus by a council of war in his
presence?" but Hannibal waved his hand toward him and looked fixedly at
Marcia.

"Goddesses may speak on all subjects, at all times; and the gods smile."

"That my words," she began, with eyes still cast down, "were deemed
worthy to be borne to my Lord, is