cely keep her feet under the crushing force of these
blows. In what vain manner had she, an inexperienced girl, blind to
all but a noble purpose, contended with men whose cunning had sufficed
to snare the chiefs of her people! Worse even, she had herself forged
the weapons for the destruction of all she had hoped to save. Iddilcar
watched her from under half-closed lids, noting every line of her face,
and reading its struggle and its despair.

"And so it is wisdom for us to march north at once?" he said softly.

"How do I know?--a woman?"

He smiled subtly and ignored the change of front he had wrested from
her.

"Love me, and I swear by the crown of Melkarth that Hannibal shall
winter in Capua."

She started, as if from the touch of fire. Had her ears heard words of
his, or was it only a belated thought coursing from her brain to her
heart?

He stepped nearer and spoke again:--

"Love me, pretty one, and Hannibal shall winter in Capua,--yea, though
he hangs on the cross for it,--though all the armies of Carthage become
food for dogs."

At first she had been dreaming of new snares; but these last words and
the vehemence of his tone brought her to an intuitive realization that
this man was indeed prepared to give up god, country, general,
friends,--all, so only that he might gratify his overmastering passion.
The gods were indeed with her, after all,--were guiding her aright; and
the knowledge steadied her self-control and strengthened her resolve.
What omen of favour could be more potent than this snatching of victory
out of the very hands of ruin--this moulding of ruin into a source of
victory?

So she spoke, calmly and evenly:--

"Perhaps you tell the truth, perhaps folly. How shall I know, any more
than I know of this power to command commanders, of which you make such
silly boast?"

"Not I---not I, lady," he protested eagerly. "Listen! It is the lord
Melkarth that has always loved the colonies of Phoenicia, first among
which is Carthage. It is he that has guided and guarded us through the
perils of the deep and of the desert, of the skies and of the earth, of
hunger and thirst, of beasts and men. What god equals him in our city!
What god receives such gifts, such incense, such sacrifices! What
though we fear Baal Moloch! Is it not the lord Melkarth whom we love?
It is he who goes before our armies, that he may tell them when to
attack, when to await the foe. I am his priest. Do you unders