It was softly lighted by means of delicate black discs let into the wall and as transparent as glass.Between the rows of these equal discs, holes, like those for the urns in columbaria, were hollowed out.Each of them contained a round dark stone, which appeared to be very heavy.Only people of superior understanding honoured these abaddirs, which had fallen from the moon.By their fall they denoted the stars, the sky, and fire; by their colour dark night, and by their density the cohesion of terrestrial things.A stifling atmosphere filled this mystic place.The round stones lying in the niches were whitened somewhat with sea-sand which the wind had no doubt driven through the door.Hamilcar counted them one after another with the tip of his finger; then he hid his face in a saffron-coloured veil, and, falling on his knees, stretched himself on the ground with both arms extended.
The daylight outside was beginning to strike on the folding shutters of black lattice-work.Arborescences, hillocks, eddies, and ill-defined animals appeared in their diaphanous thickness; and the light came terrifying and yet peaceful as it must be behind the sun in the dull spaces of future creations.He strove to banish from his thoughts all forms, and all symbols and appellations of the gods, that he might the better apprehend the immutable spirit which outward appearances took away.Something of the planetary vitalities penetrated him, and he felt withal a wiser and more intimate scorn of death and of every accident.When he rose he was filled with serene fearlessness and was proof against pity or dread, and as his chest was choking he went to the top of the tower which overlooked Carthage.
The town sank downwards in a long hollow curve, with its cupolas, its temples, its golden roofs, its houses, its clusters of palm trees here and there, and its glass balls with streaming rays, while the ramparts formed, as it were, the gigantic border of this horn of plenty which poured itself out before him.Far below he could see the harbours, the squares, the interiors of the courts, the plan of the streets, and the people, who seemed very small and but little above the level of the pavement.Ah! if Hanno had not arrived too late on the morning of the Aegatian islands! He fastened his eyes on the extreme horizon and stretched forth his quivering arms in the direction of Rome.
The steps of the Acropolis were occupied by the multitude.In the square of Khamon the people were pressing forwards to see the Suffet come out, and the terraces were gradually being loaded with people; a few recognised him, and he was saluted; but he retired in order the better to excite the impatience of the people.
Hamilcar found the most important men of his party below in the hall:
Istatten, Subeldia, Hictamon, Yeoubas and others.They related to him all that had taken place since the conclusion of the peace: the greed of the Ancients, the departure of the soldiers, their return, their demands, the capture of Gisco, the theft of the zaimph, the relief and subsequent abandonment of Utica; but no one ventured to tell him of the events which concerned himself.At last they separated, to meet again during the night at the assembly of the Ancients in the temple of Moloch.
They had just gone out when a tumult arose outside the door.Some one was trying to enter in spite of the servants; and as the disturbance was increasing Hamilcar ordered the stranger to be shown in.
An old Negress made her appearance, broken, wrinkled, trembling, stupid-looking, wrapped to the heels in ample blue veils.She advanced face to face with the Suffet, and they looked at each other for some time; suddenly Hamilcar started; at a wave of his hand the slaves withdrew.Then, signing to her to walk with precaution, he drew her by the arm into a remote apartment.
The Negress threw herself upon the floor to kiss his feet; he raised her brutally.
"Where have you left him, Iddibal?"
"Down there, Master;" and extricating herself from her veils, she rubbed her face with her sleeve; the black colour, the senile trembling, the bent figure disappeared, and there remained a strong old man whose skin seemed tanned by sand, wind, and sea.A tuft of white hair rose on his skull like the crest of a bird; and he indicated his disguise, as it lay on the ground, with an ironic glance.
"You have done well, Iddibal! 'Tis well!" Then piercing him, as it were, with his keen gaze: "No one yet suspects?"The old man swore to him by the Kabiri that the mystery had been kept.
They never left their cottage, which was three days' journey from Hadrumetum, on a shore peopled with turtles, and with palms on the dune."And in accordance with your command, O Master! I teach him to hurl the javelin and to drive a team.""He is strong, is he not?"
"Yes, Master, and intrepid as well! He has no fear of serpents, or thunder, or phantoms.He runs bare-footed like a herdsman along the brinks of precipices.""Speak! speak!"
"He invents snares for wild beasts.Would you believe it, that last moon he surprised an eagle; he dragged it away, and the bird's blood and the child's were scattered in the air in large drops like driven roses.The animal in its fury enwrapped him in the beating of its wings; he strained it against his breast, and as it died his laughter increased, piercing and proud like the clashing of swords."Hamilcar bent his head, dazzled by such presages of greatness.
"But he has been for some time restless and disturbed.He gazes at the sails passing far out at sea; he is melancholy, he rejects bread, he inquires about the gods, and he wishes to become acquainted with Carthage.""No, no! not yet!" exclaimed the Suffet.
The old slave seemed to understand the peril which alarmed Hamilcar, and he resumed:
