too much honour. That he should deem
them worthy of thought, is beyond the dream of mere woman." Then,
glancing up and smiling wistfully into his face, she went on: "Know,
that whatever of judgment born of knowledge of the place and the men
has come to me, a girl,--that and more is for the service of the great
general of Carthage,--the benignant liberator of Italy."

"Why do you advise delay?" asked Hannibal again, and the eyes of
Maharbal glittered, as he leaned over from the other table. "There are
those who say I have delayed too long already."

"For this," replied Marcia, boldly; "that you may save your soldiers
and your allies; that they may lie in rest and luxury, and that, ere
springtime, the cities of the Latin Name, yes, truly, and the very
rabble of Rome, shall come to you on their knees for leave to bear the
horseheads along the Sacred Way, up the Capitoline slope--"

"If in the spring, why not now?"

Maharbal and Hannibal-the-Fighter made a clucking sound of assent;
Hasdrubal and the other guests seemed indifferent, but the Capuans were
hanging on Marcia's words.

"Because the time is not ripe--" she began.

"Words!" cried her questioner, cutting off her speech; "I asked, _why_?"

Frightened at his vehemence, but put to it of necessity, she answered:--

"Because there are strifes and bickerings--at Rome--throughout the
Latin Name--that must soon bear fruit of civil strife. The nobles
grind and hold to their privileges; the commons serve and starve and
look to Carthage for aid. How shall these things grow better, while
you hold the garden of Italy--while the Greeks of the south and the
Samnites and the men of the soil gather behind you on one side, and the
Gauls and Etruscans muster in the north? The water is eating at the
mole; soon the waves will lash up and sweep it from its foundations."

Hannibal eyed her closely for a moment. Then he said: "There are those
at Rome and among the Latin Name who tell me otherwise. They are good
men, and they know. Perhaps I have been even too cautious. You are
young and beautiful. Hold fast to matters suited to youth and beauty,
and leave the conduct of wars and statecraft to men." Turning to
Stenius, he went on, "If this Leucadian wine of yours, my Stenius, were
let into the veins of those who lie dead at Cannae, they would be fit
to rise and do battle again."

Stenius bowed and smiled; Marcia grew red and then pale with shame and
vexation, seeing