mbarked
his stoutest troops on board such vessels as were available. He was
apparently taking to flight; and running northward before the wind he
disappeared into the mist.

But three days afterwards, when the attack was about to begin again,
some people arrived tumultuously from the Libyan coast. Barca had
come among them. He had carried off provisions everywhere, and he was
spreading through the country.

Then the Barbarians were indignant as though he were betraying them.
Those who were most weary of the siege, and especially the Gauls, did
not hesitate to leave the walls in order to try and rejoin him. Spendius
wanted to reconstruct the helepolis; Matho had traced an imaginary line
from his tent to Megara, and inwardly swore to follow it, and none of
their men stirred. But the rest, under the command of Autaritus, went
off, abandoning the western part of the rampart, and so profound was the
carelessness exhibited that no one even thought of replacing them.

Narr' Havas spied them from afar in the mountains. During the night he
led all his men along the sea-shore on the outer side of the Lagoon, and
entered Carthage.

He presented himself as a saviour with six thousand men all carrying
meal under their cloaks, and forty elephants laden with forage and dried
meat. The people flocked quickly around them; they gave them names. The
sight of these strong animals, sacred to Baal, gave the Carthaginians
even more joy than the arrival of such relief; it was a token of the
tenderness of the god, a proof that he was at last about to interfere in
the war to defend them.

Narr' Havas received the compliments of the Ancients. Then he ascended
to Salammbo's palace.

He had not seen her again since the time when in Hamilcar's tent amid
the five armies he had felt her little, cold, soft hand fastened to his
own; she had left for Carthage after the betrothal. His love, which
had been diverted by other ambitions, had come back to him; and now he
expected to enjoy his rights, to marry her, and take her.

Salammbo did not understand how the young man could ever become her
master! Although she asked Tanith every day for Matho's death, her
horror of the Libyan was growing less. She vaguely felt that the hate
with which he had persecuted her was something almost religious,--and
she would fain have seen in Narr' Havas's person a reflection, as it
were, of that malice which still dazzled her. She desired to know him
better, and yet