make dissensions among allies.
There were those with me when this evil happened--men of your Capuan
Senate--who knew this youth better than I, and who I am convinced
suspected the truth; yet they spoke not--"

"Ah!" cried Calavius, "and you have their names writ down for me? We
shall slay them!"

Hannibal's face wore an expression strangely inscrutable as he
answered:--

"Yes, my father, I have their names whom I suspect; and they shall
surely die. Grant it to me, though, that I alone keep them and expiate
my own fault by avenging your wrong. This I swear by Baal-Melkarth and
Baal-Moloch to accomplish at the season best for our plans. Therefore
I tell you the fact, but without names, that you may know that you have
enemies and walk warily, while I, your son, shall, under the gods, be
your reliance for protection and revenge."

Another thought seemed to be struggling for utterance in the bosom of
Calavius--a wish prompted by religion but checked by prudence. Twice
he raised his head as if to speak, and twice his eyes wandered. Then
Hannibal spoke again, as if reading the other's thoughts:--

"I have also, my father, given orders that funeral honours be paid to
my brother; a pyre rich with woven fabrics and wine and oil and spices,
and, from my own share of the Etruscan spoils, I have chosen a vase
boldly pictured with a combat of heroes."

Tears gushed anew from the eyes of Calavius at this added evidence of
thoughtful friendship, and once again he embraced his benefactor, but
with somewhat more of dignity, now that the fear of death was removed.

Suddenly Marcia became conscious of an intruding presence beside her,
and, turning, her eyes fell upon the repulsive features of Iddilcar,
that seemed to sneer through the semi-gloom. She shuddered and drew
back against the wall. Iddilcar held out his arms which the broad
sleeves of his robe left bare to elbow. An expression of eager lust
made his face even more hideous than did the sneer of a moment past.

"Come, little bird," he said, "and I will charm you. Moon of Tanis!
Lamp of Proserpine! Essence of all the Heavens! do you not see I love
you?--I, Iddilcar, priest of Melkarth. Behold, my robe is dark. It
mourns--not for the fool who died, but because you have not loved me.
Love, and it will gleam again in violet, and all the bracelets that
hung from my arms at the banquet shall be yours."

She pressed her hands to her face; she felt herself swaying up