CHAPTER V.
PLOTS AND COUNTER-PLOTS.
Despite the confidence with which Hannibal’s daughter had advanced to greet the new-comers, it is not to be supposed that she felt as bold as she looked. Her heart was beating violently as, with a smile upon her lips, she greeted the gorgeous strangers glittering in their golden armour. Nor is this to be wondered at, for well she knew the terrible risks that she ran, and the perfidy hidden in the breast of the handsome young Adherbal, who was now gazing upon her with such ardent admiration in his bold, piercing eyes, that, in spite of herself, she felt herself blushing a little as she lowered her own lids before his too evident admiration of her youthful charms.
But she speedily diverted his attention from herself by suggesting that the nobles should follow her in their own boats to her palace steps, saying that she would lead the way. She purposely did not ask them to accompany her, for she wished to have time to think and talk with Cleandra on the way home.
“What dost thou think of them, Cleandra?” she inquired, as soon as they started.
“I think that they are all very handsome young men, and most beautifully attired; Adherbal himself and Imlico are especially handsome, and they seem to have pleasant ways. I do not think it possible they can have the evil designs that we imagine.” For Cleandra, who was young and impressionable, had been caught at once by a few pretty compliments that the versatile Imlico had already found time to pay her.
“Be on thy guard in spite of their pleasant ways, dear Cleandra,” replied the younger and more prudent girl; “for what is the use of being forewarned by Hannibal if we are not forearmed? Nothing can make me trust them. Why, think ye, are they come hither with all their fleet had their designs been good, instead of proceeding at once to help Hannibal at Saguntum?”
This reply was convincing, and the rest of the way to the palace steps was passed by the girls in silence.
Here, and about the palace itself, there was purposely, by Elissa’s orders, but a very small guard waiting to receive them.
The Carthaginians, arriving with their two boats, noticed this fact with satisfaction. Their leader sprang to shore in time to gallantly offer his hand to Elissa, which she gracefully accepted, apologising at the same time with apparent naïveté.
“Thou seest, General Adherbal, that we have but a poor show of retainers with whom to welcome thee here. But the reason is plain. Being but a woman, alone in the palace, and having ever before me the traditions of the horrible outrages committed by the mercenaries, who revolted in Hamilcar’s and thy father Hanno’s time, I prefer to employ all the extra soldiers about the city walls. I only, during Hannibal’s absence, maintain a guard of some forty men in all to protect the approaches, the gates, and the palace itself. For what have I to fear?”
“What, indeed?” replied Adherbal, taking the opportunity to gently press the little hand that rested on his arm. “Where beauty and virtue such as thine reign supreme, fair lady Elissa, what harm could come to the palace that contains such a treasure?” And he looked into her eyes as if he meant his words.
Elissa, paying no attention to the compliment, continued:
“I see, my lord, that thou hast some baggage with thee. We have, I trust, despite our small retinue, enough men to spare thy followers the trouble of disembarking it themselves, which would be but an inhospitable proceeding. Further, our few soldiers can entertain thy followers this evening.”
“Baggage? no, my lady Elissa, of that we have but little. Yet have I ventured to bring ashore, as an unworthy offering to my fair hostess, a few flagons of the most famous vintages of the old wine for which the vineyards of Utica are famous. Wilt thou deign to accept it for thyself and thine household?”
“Most willingly, noble Adherbal, will I accept thy kindly gift. It will be, indeed, a pleasant change to the household after the thin wines of Iberia; and, though we ladies are but small drinkers, we shall look forward to pledging our noble guests in a cup ourselves this very evening.”
Upon reaching the head of the marble stairs, the herald, who had returned with the State barge, sounded a clarion blast. Instantly the postern gate flew open, the sentry saluting as the party entered, to find, standing upon the porticos of the palace awaiting them, the Princess Cœcilia and Melania in their grandest robes, with several pretty female slaves behind them. Adherbal exchanged with Ariston and Zeno a meaning glance, which they both perfectly understood; but Imlico was so taken up with Cleandra, to whom he was making violent love, that he did not catch the leader’s meaning looks. Elissa, however, noticed them, and explained that, as there were so few men available, what men there were would be exclusively employed in entertaining his own escort.
The Princess Cœcilia was all smiles. She looked, as she really was, delighted to see some strangers of the male sex, and those strangers, too, of such evident high rank, and wearing such gorgeous accoutrements. She was an exceedingly good-natured, but a foolish young woman, and she showed her folly in the extra warmth of her welcome. Finding that none of the other three nobles seemed to respond very much, or rather that Zeno responded much more warmly than the others to her politeness, it was upon him chiefly that she showered her attentions. As for Ariston, from the moment that he set eyes upon Melania, he could look at nothing else.
The guests were promptly shown to gorgeous and most luxuriously furnished sleeping apartments, with the intimation that a collation awaited them, as soon as they were ready, on the west verandah. In a short time, therefore, the nobles, all having doffed their armour, with the exception of a dagger in a golden waist-belt, appeared in most beautiful silken raiment, the very latest fashion from Carthage. And just as the sun was beginning to set over the western horizon, the eight convives sat down to a sumptuous repast, served by light-footed female attendants. They reclined on divans at a round table, Adherbal on the right side of Elissa, then the princess, next to her Zeno, then Melania and Ariston, next to whom came Cleandra and Imlico.
From the situation in which Adherbal was placed, he could see the road leading to the bridge across the isthmus, and also the far end of the bridge itself, the nearer half being hidden by the walls. He could also, by looking to his right, see the heights across the lagoon to the north of the city. And although he said nothing, he noticed, nevertheless, vaguely that there was a constant influx of troops coming from the landward side, and that further, there was a large encampment of tents being rapidly reared on the hills to the north. But it did not strike him as being of any importance. He thought merely that they were some Iberian levies. He devoted himself equally to Elissa and the wine, which was his own, and excellent, and the more wine he drank, the more pressing he became in his attentions to his hostess, who, not quite understanding the customs of Carthage, very soon felt an alarm which she took care to conceal.
Both Cleandra and Melania were also slightly alarmed as the dinner wore on; but Cleandra, having taken two cups of wine, began to have her head turned by the compliments and ready tongue of Imlico, who had certainly made an impression upon her unattached affections. Melania was far more cautious with Ariston, whom she thoroughly disliked from the first; but the young widow, the Princess Cœcilia, made quite as much love to Zeno as he to her, and, long before the enormous number of courses which it was customary to serve in those days had appeared, she had, on the pretence of feeling a little faint, risen from the feast and taken Zeno off with her to show him the garden. And her faintness must have lasted a long time, for she never came back! In the meantime, course after course appeared, and the wine cup circulated freely; but still, until darkness fell upon the land, Adherbal could see troops marching into the city, and still he noticed rows upon rows of tents rising on the northern hills.
At length, when all had moved away from the table, the night fell. Adherbal had now become loving in the extreme, and clasped Elissa’s hands in his and drew her to his side. Coyly, with a slight resistance, she allowed herself to be so drawn, and coyly, too, but determinedly, averted her head when he sought to embrace her. He complained of her cruelty.
“It is too soon, my lord, too soon,” she uttered shyly. “Why, I have not even yet known thee one whole day.” She added laughingly, “Although I am willing to learn the manners of Carthage, I cannot learn them quite all at once.”
The wine he had drunk made him brutal. In spite of her striving to hold back, he held the girl closer to him and kissed her averted face. And then by force he turned her face to him and kissed her passionately on the lips.
Despite the loathing with which his embrace inspired her, she did not, as she was merely acting a part, resist at all violently. He could not, however, see the eyes gleaming with hatred in the darkness; he only felt the warmth of the little mouth, and, as she had not struggled much and had uttered no cry, he considered the battle was half won already. He unmasked his battery without further delay.
“Elissa, dearest Elissa, why shouldst thou resist me? Dost thou not know that I adore thee? I have come here from Carthage simply because of hearing of thy charms, for by Astarte, Queen of Love! I vow that I loved thee in advance; but hearsay is not one-thousandth part of the reality. Beloved, come to me, for thou wilt and shalt be mine.”
With his powerful arms he clasped her to him so closely that she could not move, while he could feel her fluttering heart beating against his breast. She temporised, concealing her rage for fear.
“My lord,” she whispered softly, “thou knowest that I am much flattered at having attracted thy attention thus; but still thou must consider me and my position a little. I am supreme here at present; and therefore what would Cleandra and Melania, who are but my slaves, say if they could see me now? Hence, if thou lovest me as thou sayest, yet release me, I pray thee. If thou choosest, thou canst still hold my hand. But be cautious.”
He released her, then said abruptly and somewhat angrily:
“Very well, my pretty one, I release thee for the present, for know this, that whether thou wilt or not, thou art mine, this palace is mine, and the vice-royalty that thy father Hannibal hath here in Iberia is mine. It depends simply upon how sweet and loving thou provest thyself to me now whether I spare his life or not, for know this, so incensed are the council of One Hundred at Carthage, and all the people also, at his having attacked Saguntum, and so embroiled them once more with Rome, that they have sent me here, armed with a large force, to seize and execute him. And thou, my pretty sweetheart, hast been decreed unto me as the reward for my trouble in coming. Therefore, if thou wilt be sweet and loving to me, then for thy sweet sake I will not only spare thy father’s life, but, when we get back to Carthage together, for I could never stop long in this country of barbarians, I will make thee my wife. ’Twere therefore wise for thee to become my willing partner, and then all will go well.”
Elissa’s anger rose beyond all control at this insulting speech; she could play her part no longer now.
“I will never be thine,” she said, “thou insolent hound! And as for thy seizing Hannibal, thou canst not do it. His troops have been marching in all the evening, and I, with my guard in the palace, can have thee arrested now this instant if I so choose.”
“Hannibal’s troops here so soon! By Moloch! I did not imagine that those were the troops of Hannibal that I saw marching in. There is, indeed, no time to lose. Thou shalt be mine this very night, for thou hast sought to entrap me, as I imagined thou mightst, for all thy winning ways. But thou art a little young yet, Elissa, and, when I have had thee in training for some time, thou shalt see that thou hast much to learn from the ‘insolent hound,’ as thou so politely hast termed me.”
“Thine to-night, faugh! Thine never! my Lord Adherbal, for know that this night thou shalt sleep in the dungeon of the castle, for I will have thee instantly seized. I have but to cry aloud. And to-morrow morning thou shalt be crucified.”
“And to-morrow morning, my pretty one, my men will storm the palace, and, unless they find me alive and well, put every inmate within it to the sword. Not much storming will, however, be necessary, for the gates will be opened for them. Therefore, cry aloud and see what happens, and to-morrow morning crucify me. But in the meantime I will hold thee as a sweet hostage here in mine arms.”
As he seized her tightly, she cried aloud:
“Gisco! Idherbal! Gisco, Gisco! Cleandra, Cleandra! Idherbal!”
She screamed in vain until she was hoarse. At the same time she could hear Melania screaming loudly also, while from Cleandra, at the far end of the verandah, some faint protests could be heard.
In vain did Elissa cry aloud until she was exhausted, and meanwhile Adherbal held her and mocked her. Her plans had utterly miscarried, and he had been more clever than she. She had given her men instructions to make his guards drunk, and to be concealed and ready to come to her assistance instantly when called for. She had also ordered a reinforcement of double the usual number in the gate guard-houses. But Adherbal, as he now calmly informed her, had obtained possession both of the postern gate and of the other gate of the palace. For he had made all her men within the palace, and also the guards at the gate-houses, senseless with merely one cup apiece of drugged wine, brought from the ship for the purpose, which his attendants had orders to offer them. All, therefore, were now lying bound and helpless. As for her women, they had been seized and bound by his men more than an hour ago. Never had there been such a miscarrying of a deeply-laid plan, for not even her manœuvre of making Hannibal’s troops appear to march in had alarmed him.
The poor girl now struggled and fought with the desperation of despair. All the while she could hear Melania’s cries becoming weaker and weaker; but Cleandra’s voice was no longer heard. Eventually Adherbal stifled her cries with his hand. When she was utterly exhausted, he lifted her in his arms, and with brutal kisses, accompanied by sarcastic speeches, he triumphantly bore her off towards his own apartments in the palace.
As with ease he carried off the now half-fainting girl in his arms, he met some of his own guards, who, having heard the cries, came forward, staggering with drink, from the back part of the palace.
“Begone instantly, you fools!” he cried; “have ye not both wine and women enough to amuse ye? see that ye disturb me not again.”
The guards shrank back abashed, and Adherbal passed on with his burden, Elissa realising in the agony of despair, with what senses she still had left, that she was utterly helpless in the ruffian’s power. And then she fell into a swoon.
CHAPTER VI.
CLEANDRA’S CUNNING.
It is not to be supposed that Imlico had been wooing Cleandra in the rough and ready fashion that Adherbal, his leader, had adopted; but he had been more successful. For he had found the pretty young Spanish maiden like the tow which needed only the smallest spark to set it on fire, and which blazed outright when touched with a flame.
For Cleandra not only came of the passionate Spanish race, but was a flirt by nature; and owing to the eight months’ siege of Saguntum, which had taken all the men away, was utterly tired of being without a gallant. Moreover, it must be admitted that she was a cunning and scheming young woman; and, therefore, speedily saw in the handsome, good-natured, and jovial young noble Imlico a tool ready to her hand wherewith to execute a project that she had long had in her heart. This was nothing more nor less than to escape from New Carthage and Hannibal’s household altogether. For, although Elissa loved her, and usually treated her more like a sister than a slave, yet slave she was, and her proud nature could not forget that circumstance. She well remembered that when but a little girl of twelve, Hasdrubal had stormed her father’s chief city, killed her father, and took her mother and herself captive. Her mother had only survived for a year or two. Hasdrubal had then kept the girl as his slave until she was seventeen. Then, some two years before his assassination by a Celt, in revenge for some private wrong, he had given her to Hannibal, whose sister was Hasdrubal’s first wife, as a companion for his daughter Elissa. Thus, although at heart personally attached to Elissa, Cleandra had no love for the family of Hannibal, through whose relative she had suffered, especially as, notwithstanding her high birth, she was yet considered by the household as a slave. Therefore, with her object in view, she did her utmost to bewitch Imlico, whose handsome bearing she really admired.
Although the associate of Adherbal and Ariston, Imlico was not only much younger, but a man of less determinedly bad principles than they. In short, he had a good heart; while he had no objection to taking love where he could find it, and that without burdening himself with many scruples, yet he did not at all approve of the villainous scheme suggested by the others, to bend the ladies to their will by force, or by fraud, or by a combination of both. He was, however, in a minority, and kept his feelings to himself for fear of the personal danger which he knew he would run had he dared to so much as hint at them.
And now as he wandered away with Cleandra in the faint light of a young moon, across the garden where the fire-flies flitted from bush to bush, and the air was redolent of the sweet odour of the orange blossoms, he felt himself falling deeply in love with the beautiful and high-bred girl by his side, about whose unresisting waist he wound his arm. And, apart from the scheme she had at heart, Cleandra in turn felt a strong sympathy for young Imlico, which, with the drowsy langour of the scented air, grew stronger every minute. And when at length they stood upon the battlements and looked out upon the sea, she readily yielded her lips to his ardent embrace.
Cleandra was absolutely in Elissa’s confidence, and knew her deeply-laid plans, and did not for a moment think that Hannibal’s daughter, or the other three ladies, were in any other danger than that of their own seeking. She had, therefore, smiled inwardly when the foolish little princess had, like herself, wandered away in the earlier part of the evening, doubtless to find a shelter and indulge in a flirtation in one of the shady summer-houses in the garden. But knowing Elissa’s plans, she imagined that it was Adherbal and his companions who were in danger, not only of present captivity, but of crucifixion, and it did not, from any point of view, at all suit her that this handsome young noble, with whom she had so rapidly fallen in love, should be either a captive or crucified. Therefore, although she did not intend to betray Elissa, she determined to make use of her plans for her own advantage, and the opportunity for so doing was not long in coming.
Imlico had just made her an ardent declaration. He vowed by all the gods that he adored her, and urged her to fly with him to his ship on the morrow’s morn.
“I will gladly fly with thee, Imlico,” replied the maiden, looking with burning glances into his eyes, “if thou wilt swear by Melcareth and Moloch to reveal nothing that I tell thee, to do exactly as I direct thee, and not to quit me for a moment. Then not only will I fly with thee, but that not to-morrow’s morn, but this very night.”
Enraptured, the enamoured young man pledged himself by the most solemn oaths to reveal nothing, and to follow her bidding exactly.
“Then listen closely, Imlico. I will fly with thee this very night simply to save thine own life, for it is in danger should thou stay an hour later here. For all the plot upon which ye are come hither is known, and before this time to-morrow thou and thy three companions are to be crucified upon this very battlement. Dost thou see the row of crosses beyond? They have been erected this evening on purpose for ye. They were not there when we rowed back from the harbour entrance this afternoon. The guards are but waiting the order to seize ye all.”
In spite of himself, Imlico started back and shuddered when he now saw, for the first time, the gruesome preparations for his own execution. But he speedily recovered himself with a laugh, and taking the plump Cleandra in his arms, kissed her heartily.
“By Astarte! thou didst give me a fright, little one, for the minute, but I thank thee for thy confidence and kindly interest in myself. And now confidence for confidence. Know this then, that Elissa and all of you women in this palace are, indeed, in danger if you will, saving only thyself, for thee I would not harm. But we Carthaginian nobles and our followers are in no danger from thy guards, and I will even now prove it to thee. Let us advance to where yonder sentinel is pacing by the postern gateway. We will stroll by him, and, when he challenges, thou shalt reply and give the password. Then thou shalt see who is in danger.”
With the girl on his arm, Imlico rapidly paced along the battlements to the sentry, who cried out:
“Halt! Let one only advance and give the countersign.”
Imlico pushed his fair companion, who boldly advanced and said, “Saguntum,” which was the password arranged in the palace for the night.
“ ’Tis the wrong password,” answered the sentinel, lowering his spear point towards her. “Thou canst not pass.”
Imlico laughingly now advanced in turn.
“The lady hath made a mistake, oh sentry. Carthage is the password she would have given.”
“Pass Carthage, and all’s well,” replied the guard, and so they passed in.
It was now Cleandra’s turn to shudder and start. “What? have the guards been changed?” she asked, “and the countersign?”
“Ay, that have they, fair Cleandra; and further know this that ye have not now a single man fit for duty within the whole palace walls, for all thy guards are by this time drugged, senseless, or bound. Thou seest clearly now that none of Elissa’s guests are in any danger, to-night at all events.”
Cleandra now thought of the story about Hannibal’s troops marching in, which had been merely an arranged plan, by which the same troops should appear over and over again. For it will be remembered that these troops could only be seen from the palace when descending on to the landward end of the bridge by the big gate of the city. So the troops that had been employed had marched across the bridge, then embarked in boats, followed up the city walls, crossed the lagoon, and then marching up a winding little pass that lay between the hills, had shown themselves again. And the best of the arrangement had been that all the mercenaries in the ships had, until dark fell, also noticed these troops arriving continually as if from Saguntum, for they saw them plainly crossing the top of a hill. In her need, for she wished to frighten Imlico, Cleandra made use of this plot.
“Ay, if thus by fraud the palace is Adherbal’s, then thou art safe for to-night, my good friend, Imlico. But didst thou not notice all the troops that were continually marching over the bridge while yet we were at table? They were the advance guard of a large portion of Hannibal’s forces that are being sent back from Saguntum. Many more will arrive to-morrow morn. Canst thou not see, glistening in the moonlight, the tents that have been erected for them on yonder eastern hill. This palace, therefore, even if held by thy few men, will be easily recaptured, and thou and all thine will most undoubtedly be crucified. Therefore thou must fly to-night. But now let us go back to the verandah, for Elissa may have sore need of me ere I go, and I would save her if I could. It grieves me sadly to leave her, but I feel that in thee I have found the man I love, and I would save thy life, while her life, at all events, is not in danger. But without me thou wilt never pass alive the guards stationed at the harbour mouth. With me thou art safe.”
Imlico was now thoroughly alert; the girl had convinced him of his great danger. It was just when they had reached the end of the verandah that Elissa had commenced to scream under Adherbal’s brutal grasp, and Melania likewise in the clutch of Ariston.
Then Cleandra had begged Imlico to allow her to fly to the young girl’s assistance, but he had restrained her. These were the protests that Elissa had heard.
“Let me go, let me go, Imlico! I will save her from the brute! and Melania is in danger also.”
“Let thee go? Never! They are in the danger that all pretty young women run, ’tis true; but what is that to thee or me? Man is man and woman woman, and no one seeks their lives, while shouldst thou foolishly interfere at this inopportune moment thy life will surely pay the forfeit, for both Adherbal and Ariston are brutes when their passions are aroused, and would surely slay thee. Stay here, I say, with me, for with me alone thou art safe. Thou shalt stay,” and forcibly he detained her.
Thus Cleandra was the unwilling witness of Elissa’s abduction, and also heard the brutal attack made by Ariston on Melania.
Ariston had drunk himself into a state of utter intoxication, and was absolutely careless of what he was doing. He saw Adherbal carrying Elissa off in his arms and strove to emulate his example. But Melania was very tall and strong and made a most vigorous resistance, which Ariston was unable to overcome. Whereupon, with brutal ferocity, he attempted to half strangle her, for he did not by any means intend to kill her. He very nearly succeeded in his foul attempt, but suddenly Cleandra, who was still being forcibly detained by Imlico, heard a groan and the sound of a fall. Tearing herself from her companion, she rushed forward and found both Ariston and Melania lying prostrate on the floor of the verandah. In the struggle that had taken place the couple had moved into the light of the lamp hanging in the doorway, and there they had fallen.
A gruesome sight it was that now met Cleandra’s eyes. His throat transfixed with a small dagger, which Melania had worn that evening through her hair, Ariston was lying, not dead, but open-eyed and speechless, with a stream of blood flowing slowly from his neck. Alongside him, with raiment sadly torn and disordered, lay Melania, unconscious and death-like, with discoloured face and frothy blood upon her lips. Cleandra screamed loudly, and would have fallen, too, had not Imlico, rushing forward, caught her swaying form in his arms.
As she fell weeping upon her knees by the side of Melania, Imlico, whom this tragedy had alarmed, begged her to be firm, as immediate action was necessary if either or both of them were to be saved, and he urged upon her the necessity of instant flight.
Although Cleandra had fully made up her mind to escape that night, she was not prepared to go without seeing Elissa again, or making some attempt, she knew not what, to save her. Suddenly she leapt to her feet and wiped her tears, as an idea sprung to her mind, and her nerve came back.
“Wait here,” she said to Imlico; “thou hast sworn to obey my directions. Shouldst thou fail in thy word, count not then on me to save thy life, for it is doomed! Therefore wait for me here by the doorway. Strive to restore Melania, lift her up against the pillar, and give her air.”
She sprung within, and rushed to the room where Maharbal had been left lying on his couch, senseless when she had seen him last. To her joy she found him now perfectly conscious, with eyes not only open but intelligent. Pale he looked, indeed, and weak, but he was a man—the only man who could be stirred to action in the whole place. It would not matter, so Cleandra thought, what should happen to him after, could he but prove of use to Elissa now. She took his sword and thrust it into his hands.
“Maharbal,” she said, “Elissa hath just been borne off into his apartment by Adherbal, who arrived here to-day. There may yet be time to save her, but Melania hath been slain while struggling with his companion, Ariston. Canst thou move? I will show thee the room. Thou hast perchance yet strength to rise and use this weapon.”
Maharbal bounded from his couch, his eyes on fire.
“Only show me the room, Cleandra, show me, quick!” He staggered as he rose from the couch, but Cleandra steadied him with her arm.
“This way,” she said, and he followed her, still leaning on her shoulder, and collecting his shattered wits and strength. She proceeded direct to Adherbal’s apartment, and, pausing for a second, said rapidly, “Maharbal, I am powerless to help Elissa further, and now it is for thee to do so if there be yet time. The palace and the palace gates are both in the hands of Adherbal’s people, but I am escaping with Imlico, one of his nobles, simply and solely as a means of alarming the troops on guard outside, who will come to the rescue. Meanwhile, thou must act.”
She opened the door, only to see Elissa all dishevelled in the arms of Adherbal, and fainting on a couch. He was fanning her face, and apparently striving to restore her. She opened her eyes at that instant with returning consciousness. She saw and recognised Cleandra and Maharbal. A gleam of hope sprung to the wretched young girl’s eyes.
“Maharbal,” she cried faintly, “Maharbal! save me! avenge me!”
Maharbal sprang upon Adherbal, who, snatching up his dagger from the side of the couch, where it had fallen, turned to meet him with the angry growl of a tiger, but of a tiger who has been baulked of his prey.
In a second Maharbal struck down his foe with a terrible blow, which almost severed his right arm at the shoulder. A second later his sword was at his throat.
“No,” cried Elissa, springing up, her bosom exposed, and hair wildly tossed about. “Slay him not now, think of the outrage he hath put upon me. Reserve him for crucifixion. Think what an insult he hath put upon me, who love thee; to me, Elissa, Hannibal’s daughter.”
“Yes, crucify the villain, Maharbal,” cried Cleandra also, “and Ariston likewise, if he be alive to-morrow, which I doubt. As for Zeno, I know not what the princess hath done with him. Hold now thy sword at his throat, while I bind him with these curtain ropes, and gag him with this ’kerchief. There, that is done. Now leave him here and lock the door, and do thou, Maharbal, and thou, Elissa, stay together in Maharbal’s apartment. Come thither quickly, draw in Melania, and barricade the door if ye would live throughout the night. As for me, Elissa, I must leave thee now and for ever, although my first object in flying from thee and slavery will be to send immediate relief to thee and Maharbal. This I can do by escaping with Imlico, whom I have won over to me. With him I can pass the few sentinels that Adherbal hath placed on the walls, and I have arranged a plan in my mind, so that upon my arriving at the harbour entrance, I can send some of our men, who will obtain admission at once. For I will give them the Carthaginian password, which I know, and, on leaving, I will make Imlico tell the sentinel at the postern gate to expect some of Adherbal’s troops to arrive shortly.
“Another thing I can do for thee and New Carthage through Imlico. It is this, I can carry out the plot on the lines of thy two letters to Adherbal, and so induce the fleet, partly from fear of Hannibal’s army, partly by greed and hope of gain, to leave for Saguntum at once. And now farewell, Elissa. Do not think hardly of me for flying with Imlico. Think that I was the woman who, through Maharbal’s right arm and with the help of the great god Melcareth, was the means of saving thine honour. Here then stay now for safety in Maharbal’s apartment. I will first bid Imlico bring in to ye Melania, and then I will depart. She hath, I rejoice to say, wounded the scoundrel Ariston sorely with her dagger; yet I trust he may live for the cross to-morrow, since he thoroughly deserves it.”
Cleandra now returned to Imlico, and, enjoining silence, made him bear the body of Melania, who still appeared perfectly lifeless, into Maharbal’s room. Then she and Elissa fell upon each other’s necks and parted with tears of sorrow.
Seizing Imlico by the arm, Cleandra passed with him swiftly to the postern gate, where her lover gave the password “Carthage,” and told the sentinel to shortly expect some troops, and to admit them.
At the bottom of the staircase the crew of the State galley were sleeping. These she aroused and ordered to man the boat, as she was on pressing business of their mistress Elissa, Regent and Governor of New Carthage. And as they all knew her, they made no difficulty about complying.
Speedily and in silence did she and Imlico proceed to the south entrance to the harbour, where, on giving “Saguntum” as the watchword, she was able to land and see the officer in command at that point. To him she confided the whole position of affairs, and after ordering him in Elissa’s name instantly to proceed with a body of men to the rescue of those in the palace, and giving him the watchword “Carthage” wherewith to effect an entrance, she re-embarked in the State barge, and rowed off to the flagship with Imlico. There the arrangements that she made through her lover and the reports which she spread were such that, when dawn broke, there was considerable consternation throughout the fleet. For they learned that Adherbal was a prisoner, and likewise Zeno and Ariston, and that an enormous encampment had been raised upon the eastern hills during the night. Moreover, in accordance with Elissa’s cunning design, musical instruments and bugles were sounding, while all the small body of men available for the purpose were constantly moving up and down in front of the first row of tents in the camp.
The men on the fleet, and indeed Imlico himself, were easily convinced that a large force of Hannibal’s had actually come in. The mercenaries, therefore, now deprived of their leader, were not at all disposed to attack the city; but, on the other hand, being fired with the accounts they had overheard the previous evening of the capture of the enormous spoil at Saguntum, news of which had spread all through the fleet, were anxious to go off and join Hannibal himself, and share in the booty of the place. When, further, an hour or two after daybreak, two of the crucifixes upon the walls of the palace, which were plainly visible from the fleet, were seen to be first lowered and then raised again, each with the body of a man attached, consternation fell upon all the mercenaries. For they knew that these human forms must be those of Adherbal and one of his attendants. As a matter of fact, they actually were Adherbal and Ariston, who were thus paying the penalty for their brutal crimes. As for Zeno of Rhodes, he was spared at the supplication of the Princess Cœcilia, and merely, with all Adherbal’s men, confined as a prisoner in the dungeons. Without waiting for any orders now, every ship commenced preparations to make sail.
Cleandra had no intention whatever of going herself to Saguntum, where she would certainly have been seized by Hannibal as his runaway slave. She therefore impressed upon Imlico the great risk that he would himself run if he arrived without any letter to prove to the great commander his innocence of complicity in Adherbal’s crimes, and seeing his danger, he readily listened to her advice. He disembarked all of the mercenaries on board the flagship, and sent them off in detachments to the other ships in the fleet. He then, having promised large sums of money to the ship’s captain, the officers, and the crew, persuaded them to turn her head the other way, and to set all sail for Carthage. And by the time of their arrival at the port of that queen of all the cities of the seas, Cleandra had obtained such an ascendancy over her lover’s somewhat weak mind, and he was, moreover, himself so infatuated with her, that, upon landing, he made her his lawful wife.
And thus, by the nerve and well-designed plans of Elissa, coupled with the cunning and cleverness of Cleandra, was the honour of Hannibal’s daughter saved, and a great plot against Hannibal himself brought to nought.
CHAPTER VII.
MELANIA’S MISERY.
Hannibal was not long in learning at Saguntum of what had taken place in New Carthage, and was in possession, in most accurate detail, of all the facts from Elissa’s own pen, before the fleet, laden with the mercenaries, arrived. She had, at the end of her letter, added that Melania’s recovery, after being despaired of, was now assured.
Hannibal was particularly pleased with Maharbal’s conduct, and gave orders that he was to be appointed at once to the command of the Numidian Cavalry, while the proceeds of the sale of a large portion of the spoil of Saguntum, and half-a-dozen splendid chargers which had been taken from the enemy, were also to be despatched to him in New Carthage. For Elissa had informed her father that, owing to his exertions, the young man’s wound had broken out bleeding afresh, and that he was not able to move from the palace, nor could he for some time to come.
Hannibal would not have been the great general and leader of men that he was if he had not been remarkably astute. His intuition was so great, that he could, so to speak, see the end of a book before another man had finished reading the title-page. In all the years he warred in Iberia, Gaul, Italy, and Carthage, and in all the alliances he made with tribes once hostile to him, never was there a single conspiracy made against his life, though assassination and treachery were common; from which it must be concluded, that he could read well the characters of the men with whom he had to deal, and knew how best to deal with them.
When he read through his daughter’s letter, he was with his two younger brothers. He indulged freely in curses against Adherbal and all his crew, especially the treacherous party of Hanno, now paramount in Carthage. But when he read that Maharbal was not able to leave the palace, he burst out laughing violently.
“What art thou laughing at, Hannibal?” quoth Mago, the younger of his two brothers, and a great personal friend of Maharbal. “I see nothing to laugh at in the fact of Maharbal’s being still a sufferer, owing to his having been the saviour of thy daughter and my niece’s honour. It seems to have been a case of touch and go, and he, with Cleandra’s aid—whose freedom, by the bye, should now be granted—undoubtedly saved her in the very nick of time. I think it is no laughing matter that a good soldier and good fellow like Maharbal should be still so dangerously ill.”
“Thou young simpleton,” answered Hannibal, “canst not see through it? I, at all events, know Elissa, the little minx, and that she is in love with the young giant, and perceive clearly that now she maketh him out far worse than he is on purpose to keep him nigh her. I saw the wound he had; ’twas nothing serious for a man of his physique. Had it been so, I would never have despatched him on that tremendous ride. But if we heed not, where that rascally scoundrel Adherbal failed to succeed by force, Maharbal will, although he is the very soul of honour, win in spite of himself; for in her gratitude, she will throw herself into his arms whether he will or no; if, indeed, she hath not done so already, for she hath the passionate nature of her Spanish mother. And then we may have to marry them, which I, for one, do not at all wish, for, in my opinion, Maharbal married will be a good soldier ruined. As regards Elissa herself, I should not mind, for, seeing his birth and breeding, she could scarcely do better, yet, for the sake of the country, I might perchance wed her to some king. Still, I say that I can always marry them later should it be found advisable.
“But pay attention, my brothers. I have such an enterprise in my head, which I have not yet informed you of, that I want with me no married men with young wives left at home to think about. So I fear that I must spoil my daughter Elissa’s little scheme, no matter at what stage things may be; although, since I love her very sincerely, I grieve to give her pain. But for the reasons I have mentioned they must be separated. Therefore, can either of you devise a scheme which will, without hurting either Elissa’s honour or her self-respect, separate her completely, and make her throw over Maharbal of her own accord, cause her to do it, too, in such a manner that he will from his own feelings of pride wish to have no more to do with her?”
Hasdrubal, the elder brother, who was cunning, now answered with a quiet smile:
“Well, it is unkind to Maharbal certainly; but he is a good soldier, and should not be spoilt as thou sayst, and I can give thee the cue, Hannibal. But it would grieve Elissa, and since I love the girl, I think that for her own protection she would be better married. So, perhaps, I had better keep the idea to myself, and let her marry him.”
“No, no,” answered Hannibal determinedly. “I will have no marriage, I tell thee, Hasdrubal. What is thy plan?”
“Oh, well, it is simple enough. Thou art sending to Maharbal money, thou art sending him horses; but thou hast forgotten he is entitled to yet another share of the spoil, thou hast sent him no slaves. Now, methinks, if thou wert to send him one of the most beautiful of these beautiful young Greek girls that we have captured, Elissa’s pride and jealousy would cause her to throw him over at once. I have, among my share of spoils, got so many of them that I do not know what to do with them all. I came across this morning, for the first time, a most lovely maiden of some sixteen summers, named, I think, Chloe. By the goddess Tanais and all her mysteries, she is a gem indeed, this Chloe; why not then send her to Maharbal with thy greeting, Hannibal, and the trick is done at once? The pretty child was weeping as though she had lost a lover, and Maharbal might perchance console her.”
“Is that all?” answered Hannibal, with a sneer. “Oh, my clever brother Hasdrubal, be assured that Maharbal would, after acknowledging the gift, sell her on the following morning to the highest bidder, or give her to Elissa herself to show his constancy, as he would have a right to do. No, that will not do; we must think of something better than thy Chloe.”
“I have it, then,” interposed Mago. “Who is there in all thy court at New Carthage so handsome and beautiful, so clever and cunning, as that tall, dark girl, Melania, daughter of Mandonius, the brother of the king of the Ilergetes, the girl who has been lately so nearly killed? We all know that she would give her very eyes for Maharbal, so why not make a present of her to him? he would soon have to love her in spite of himself—for like begets like. Nothing, moreover, would sooner create a breach between Maharbal and Elissa, than to give him a girl whom she has been accustomed to look upon as her own slave, and of whom she is, if I am not mistaken, a little jealous already.”
“Stay a moment,” replied the great General. “I believe, Mago, that thou hast hit the right nail on the head this time. I have had brought to me, but secretly, by the very same messenger that brought Elissa’s letter, a letter from the girl herself. I threw it on one side thinking that it was merely some petition for freedom of the usual kind, but there may be something more in it. Let us see—I have it over there. As my wound incommodes me, wilt thou bring it hither, brother, and open it?”
Mago opened and read it to himself before handing it to Hannibal. As he concluded he gave a low whistle.
“Indeed, oh, Hannibal, my brother, I have, while striking at random, hit the right nail on the head this time even as thou saidst. I will read the letter aloud, and thou shalt judge if this will not exactly suit thee. And, further, not only will Maharbal not be able to refuse, but I, his friend, am by no means anxious to commiserate with him, for I consider him a very lucky fellow indeed. In fact, in spite of all my Greek slaves, I quite envy him his good fortune. For I would not mind being in his shoes myself.”
“Read the letter,” quoth Hannibal.
Mago read as follows:—
“In the name of the Goddess Tanais, the Queen of Carthage, the Queen of Love, the Queen of the Seas, Greeting.
“From Melania, daughter of Mandonius, brother of the King Andobales, King of Central Iberia, to Hannibal, son of Hamilcar.
“My lord Hannibal, thou wilt have heard the news, how that Elissa and I were in the hands of two ruffianly nobles from Carthage, both since duly crucified by the mercy of Moloch the great god of sacrifice, and how we both narrowly escaped grievous wrong. My lord, our salvation and the salvation of New Carthage was only due to the timely arrival of Maharbal, the son of Manissa, brother to King Syphax of Numidia. He saved Elissa and cut down her aggressor Adherbal. His watchful care over myself hath also saved me from the very jaws of death, for I was almost strangled by the ruffian Ariston of Carthage; but he hath watched me like a brother, and I am, thanks to him, restored.
“My lord Hannibal, in this thy palace Maharbal is beloved of all the women for his bravery, his devotion to thyself, and his manly strength; above all one loveth him, even Elissa. Pardon, I pray thee, the humble supplication of thy servant Melania, but methinks that it would be well, seeing her high position, if so be thy will, that thou shouldst cause them to wed shortly. Thus will they be made happy, and the report of evil tongues be stayed. Further there can, once this be accomplished, be no more heart-burnings and jealousies among the foolish women here about thy palace, which said heart-burnings are apt to cause dissensions. Especially the Princess Cœcilia would be no longer able to annoy the Lady Elissa as she doth now by her folly about the young man. My lord, I love Elissa as I respect her, and it is in her interests and for the honour of thy name that I have dared to mention these things, therefore I pray thee forgive thy slave.
“But lest thou shouldst imagine, oh my lord Hannibal, that there is no due cause for this letter, then know this, that there are other and weightier reasons which impel me to write. Although thy slave, thou hast ever treated me as thy daughter’s friend, and such indeed I am, the friend of thy house.
“Therefore know this, I have been lately in frequent communication with my younger sisters, the daughters of Mandonius. From them I have learned that great discontent exists against thee and thy government on the part of both my father Mandonius and his brother Andobales, king of the Ilergetes, formerly despot of all Central Iberia. One cause, but only one cause out of many for this discontent, is that I am still retained a slave, and they fancy that I am not happy in thy household. My lord Hannibal, couldst thou take steps to assure them of my complete content and happiness, and shouldst thou see fit to send me with a suitable escort on a mission to the court of Andobales, it is my belief that I could easily attach both mine uncle Andobales and my father Mandonius firmly to thine own person and to the cause of Carthage. My lord, I know more than I have committed to paper, therefore I pray thee forgive the boldness in thus addressing thee of thy slave
“Melania.”
Both Hannibal and Hasdrubal his brother smiled when this letter was ended, and the former remarked:
“Ay, Mago, my lad, I see it, despite all the girl’s cunning. She is indeed a clever girl, and she wants me to give her to Maharbal, and by Melcareth! she shall have her wish, for she can be useful, ay, indeed more than useful to me at the present juncture. I have sore need of the close alliance of the whole of the Ilergetes and of all the great tribes dependant upon them, for we shall not long be left alone in Iberia, since the Romans will soon be sending their legions here. And this girl can win us this alliance as she saith. But for all that I will not give her her liberty, nay, nor marry her to Maharbal, for he certainly shall not marry her if I let him not wed Elissa; further, I would keep a hold on the girl. But for the interests of the State I will, as she desireth, make her happy. I will therefore give her to Maharbal, at all events for the time being. He shall leave the palace at New Carthage, and whether he will or no shall take her to live with him, with the understanding given to her by me that she is to be considered as his affianced wife, to be wedded and set free when I see fit. If that will not make her happy, then I am not named Hannibal. I am not, alas! so sure of Maharbal himself, nor of Elissa. But reasons of State ever are paramount, and all must bend to my will or suffer for it.”
And Hannibal frowned deeply at the mere idea of being thwarted in any way.
“No one dare oppose thy will, brother,” said Hasdrubal, “for thou art king here absolutely; although thou wearest not the crown thou couldst any day, an thou would, place it upon thy brow. Thy plan is a good one as I see it. For it will firstly have the effect of separating Elissa from Maharbal; secondly, it will prevent the latter from marrying at all; thirdly, thou canst send the girl Melania under the escort of Maharbal himself to the court of King Andobales, and she can point to him as her affianced husband. That will more than content these barbarians, especially when they know how highly he stands in thy favour, and that he is, leaving his high connections on one side, commander of all the Numidian Cavalry.”
“It shall be done without delay,” said the chief. “Call in my faithful Greek friend and scribe, Silenus; he shall write the necessary letters for us. He hath a cunning hand hath Silenus, and knoweth well how to convey an order so that it is thoroughly understood, yet seemeth but intended as a favour. But at all events, Maharbal shall not marry, and to my mind Elissa is too young to be married yet. Further, she may be useful to the State later.”
These reflections he added meditatively, as if sorry for the blow that he was about to inflict upon his daughter.
Then Silenus, who was ever Hannibal’s closest friend, and who accompanied him in all his wanderings, was called in, and three letters were written—to Elissa, Maharbal, and Melania respectively, all carefully worded.
In about a week the courier bearing the letters arrived at New Carthage, where they caused considerable stir and many heart-burnings.
That to Elissa, after conveying the warmest praise for her conduct, intimated the speedy arrival of Hannibal himself, and then referred to Maharbal. Of him the Commander-in-Chief said, that since he was the only officer in the whole of the Carthaginian army of those who had served before Saguntum who had no female slaves, and that Elissa herself being unmarried and Maharbal residing in the palace with her, some talk was being bandied about the camp which were best suppressed, therefore, Hannibal considered it best that Maharbal should leave the palace forthwith, and as he seemed not yet wholly recovered from his wound, that he should take Melania with him to watch him until his recovery. Further, Hannibal intimated to his daughter that, as there were reasons of State for this arrangement, he trusted to her duty, even if she should herself have formed any attachment for the young man, to offer no opposition to her father’s projects. The letter ended with instructions to send the unfortunate Zeno and the captive guards of Adherbal to perpetual slavery in the silver mines.
To Maharbal were conveyed the warmest thanks and praise of his Commander-in-Chief, an intimation of his promotion, and of the despatch to him of much gold and many horses; further, a deed of gift conveying to him a house belonging to Hannibal, situated near the citadel. He was also informed that, as a reward for his bravery and devotion, Melania was appointed to be his companion, and, although Hannibal would himself not resign his own vested rights in her, she was to be considered in all other respects as his slave. Finally, Hannibal enjoined upon Maharbal that, for reasons of his own, he expected him to do all in his power to make Melania happy in every respect; also the necessity of his impressing upon everyone that Melania was not merely his slave but his affianced bride, to be wedded when his commander should see fit.
In a kindly-worded note, in Hannibal’s own hand on a separate paper, the contents of which he was enjoined to keep to himself, Maharbal was informed that he need be in no fear of being plunged into any immediate wedlock, for that Hannibal had no intention of having any of his superior officers married for a long time to come, not, at all events, before certain work of great importance that he had in hand should be completed.
Before the arrival of these letters, Maharbal and Elissa had been living in a state of halcyon bliss, the only disturbing element to cause any trouble having been the foolish little Princess Cœcilia, who, with her mania for flirtation, had been incessantly casting eyes at the young Colossus, and indeed making love to him very openly. For she was dying to get married again, and had conceived the idea of marrying Maharbal himself. As for Melania, she had suffered greatly for some days after her escape, and had, during the days that Maharbal, sick himself, had tended her like a brother, in no wise ever allowed her feelings to get the upper hand of her self-constraint, nor allowed her inward devotion and passionate attachment to him to appear outwardly. As Elissa had also been kindness itself to her, she had, indeed, during those days of sore sickness, resolved to subdue self entirely, and to banish from her heart the love she bore to the gallant officer of the Numidian Horse. Thus it had been solely with the intention of striving to make her two benefactors happy, while removing temptation from herself, that she had secretly written as she had done in the first part of her letter to Hannibal. The latter part spoke for itself. But her self-abnegation had been utterly misunderstood by the great commander and his brothers, who had quite misjudged her, with the result that is known.
The letter that she received herself came to her as a surprise. No mention was made of the letter that she had sent to Hannibal, but his to her commenced by saying that he expected shortly to have need of her services on an important matter; that he regretted to hear of the danger she had been in, and that he rejoiced at her escape, and at the condign punishment of her aggressor.
Then the letter continued, that Hannibal, ever mindful of the happiness of those who had done good service to the State, had not forgotten her or Maharbal, and was anxious to make them both happy. Therefore, since Maharbal had not, in the usual fashion of the army, any female slave living with him, and as he was universally well spoken of by men and women alike, he had decreed that, for the present, she was to remove herself from the palace, and to reside with Maharbal in the house which he himself was going to give him as a residence. Further, that she was not to consider that she was being treated lightly in this matter, although she was undoubtedly at present a slave, nor was she to consider herself merely in the same light as any other slave-girl who might be the temporary mistress of the home of one of the nobles in the Carthaginian army. For Hannibal, bearing the greatest good-will to both Maharbal and herself, and recognising that, from her birth, she was in a position to be his wife, had decreed that, while under Maharbal’s roof, Melania was to be considered and treated as his affianced bride. She was informed that the actual marriage should take place at such time, as, in the opinion of Hannibal, it conveniently might, and that, at the same time, her freedom would be conferred upon her.
The letter ended: “Thou art to show unto Maharbal this my letter unto thee, and show it further to my daughter, Elissa, Regent and Governor of New Carthage.”
The terribly mixed feelings with which Melania read this letter caused her poor fluttering heart to beat as though her bosom would burst. There was no joy she longed for in life more than to become all in all to Maharbal, although, alas! she well knew that he did not love her, but only loved Elissa. Thus, despite her love, she hated the idea of being compelled to live under his roof as his wife, for this was very plainly the General’s intention. Again, she knew how Maharbal himself would take the matter, and she dreaded his scorn and neglect. She also feared the anger and revenge of which she might be the sufferer at the hands of Elissa, whose ardent love for Maharbal she well knew, for she had seen it indulged in openly and unrestrainedly by the young girl before her very eyes. For Elissa, with all the thoughtless folly of youth, had never considered her slave’s presence when with the glorious young Apollo, her own sun god.
Sooth to say, there was no such man as Maharbal in all the lands of Carthagena or of Iberia. He was, indeed, a very Adonis for beauty, with all the strength of a Hercules. It was no wonder that he was beloved by maids and matrons alike, for in face, form, and disposition he was in all points a man for a woman to worship.
The wretched Melania in her despair knew not what to do. When nearly mad with thinking, she eventually sent a maiden with the letter to Maharbal and Elissa when they were together. And then, leaving a note in her apartment saying that she was departing for ever, and that it would be useless to seek her, she fled from the town; walking as one distraught, not knowing what she would do, but simply with the idea of taking away her own life in some way. For, from whatever aspect she looked at it, she could not face the situation. While passing the guard house and crossing the bridge leading to the mainland, she met many people who knew her, and who saluted her. She looked at them vaguely without seeing them, and passed on. They thought from her dazed expression that she had gone mad. And so, in fact, the poor girl had in a way. Vaguely still, she wandered on until she took a little by-road that led up into an interminable cork and hazel forest, that covered the whole of the mountain-side. As she was ascending the hill, she met a man whom she had quite recently befriended, an old soldier who had had his leg broken in an accident in the palace, and whom she had nursed. He had gone to live on the mountain-side, where he made a living by capturing, with the aid of his sons, the game which abounded. He stopped her, and being a garrulous old man, forced her to speak to him. He informed her that as evening was now coming on she must not proceed further, for that she would be in danger of her life from the wolves, bears, and wild boars with which the forest was filled.
“Wolves, bears, and wild boars! are there many?” she asked.
“The hill is full of them, dear lady Melania; therefore, to go further to-night will be certain death.”
“Then, as certain death is what I seek, I shall proceed,” replied the girl. “Take thou this piece of gold, and let me pass. Nay, here are two, and some silver also—take them all.”
Pushing the old man aside, she passed on, and wandered away into the recesses of the forest, until, long after having left all vestige of a trail, she fell from sheer exhaustion beneath the shadow of a spreading plane-tree, beside a little spring. After drinking a draught of the cool, refreshing water, she laid herself down to await the coming of the wild animals that were to solve the vexed problem of her existence for her, and to terminate all her woes. But she remained there that night, and also for the following three days, gradually dying from starvation, and still no ferocious beast came by to terminate her ills.
CHAPTER VIII.
LOVE FULFILLED.
Since the rescue of Elissa from the brutal grasp of Adherbal, the young girl had unrestrainedly given all her love to her protector. Although experienced in matters of war, from having accompanied her father on his campaigns, she was utterly inexperienced in matters of love, and, for all her determination—indeed, almost cruelty of character—begot by the way in which she had been brought up, she was passionately loving. This was born in her, and she was, moreover, just at the very age when a maiden’s heart is most impressionable. She had no idea of counting the cost of anything that she might do where her love was concerned, and she had fully made up her mind that Maharbal was to be hers, and she his. Although in those days, as now, eventual matrimony was considered a desirable object in life for young women, a lapse from virtue beforehand, when marriage was intended, was not looked upon as a heinous crime, even among the highest families of Carthage. For the worship of Tanais, or Astarte, was but another name for the worship of Venus, and, as all readers of the classics know, whether under the names of Artemis or Aphrodite, of Venus or Astarte, the worship of the goddess of love was seldom accompanied by the greatest continence. This was evident by the Eleusinian mysteries in Greece, and the Veneralia in Rome, while the extreme licentiousness of the Carthaginian priestesses of Tanais at Cissa, the town whither the revolted mercenaries of Hamilcar were banished, is too well known to require comment.
From her earliest youth, Elissa had been instructed to be a worshipper of the greatest of Carthaginian divinities after Melcareth, this Venus, Astarte, or Tanais. And she was more than ever a faithful votary of the shrine since she herself, youthful, ardent, and loving, had set her deepest affections upon Maharbal. She expected and intended that he should become her husband; but she had, with the laxity of the times, resulting from this worship of Tanais, fully determined that, with or without the marriage tie, their lives should be joined together in a closer union than that which usually unites those who have not already become man and wife.
The only difficulty was in Maharbal himself. He was a man who had ideas of purity far beyond his age. He did not believe at all in pre-nuptial love, and had altogether a higher standard of the moral law than any known to exist at that time. He was, indeed, laughed at in the army for never keeping even one female slave. He had, in consequence, after having come to a full understanding with Elissa, whom he loved, as she loved him, with every fibre of his soul, been extremely careful that, as far as he was concerned, she should remain absolutely pure. He intended her to be his wife, and she was, he knew, absolutely determined to marry him. There, indeed, seemed to be to neither of them the slightest reason why they should not shortly wed. Therefore, he had ever gently restrained her passionate abandonment. He recognised plainly that these loving advances were made solely in the loving confidence that she reposed in the man who was to be her husband. To any other man she would, he well knew, have been as cold as ice, and he recognised that, with body and soul, she loved him, and him alone.
Thus, when Hannibal’s mandates arrived, ordering Maharbal to take Melania as his mistress, the youthful and passionate Elissa became furious with rage and jealousy. She might have looked upon the matter in a less severe light, judging by the habits of the day, had not Hannibal, her father, so distinctly said that Maharbal and Melania were to be considered as betrothed to each other; but this order, depriving her for ever of the hope of the lover who had never as yet been hers, aroused her fury to the highest degree, and Maharbal himself was not less angry than Elissa at being caught in this trap of Hannibal’s. While discussing the matter together, the letter from Hannibal to Melania was brought to them. When Elissa had read it, for once her whole nature rose up in revolt. She became, for the first time in her life, a thorough rebel to her father’s authority, and instantly determined upon the death of her rival. For was she not still the Regent and Governor of New Carthage, and was not the power of life and death in her hands?
She instantly called the palace guards, and ordered them to go to Melania’s apartment, to lead her away for instant decapitation, and to return and inform her when her orders had been obeyed.
Maharbal strove to interfere; but Elissa, drawing herself up, remarked calmly:
“I am supreme here, Maharbal; this is my palace, and these are my guards. No one can give orders here but myself.”
Shortly afterwards word was brought to Elissa that Melania was missing, and that a letter had been found in her room saying that she was departing for ever; therefore the order for her execution could not be carried out. She had been seen to leave the city; but whither she had gone no man knew.
Her first rage being past, Elissa was doubtless glad that her barbarous orders could not be executed, since she was not cruel at heart. As for Maharbal, he was delighted, not only that Melania’s execution could not be carried out, but that her absence made it quite impossible for him to fulfil the orders of his chief. He thought it probable that the girl had fled—as indeed she had—merely from fear of Elissa’s vengeance, and sincerely hoped that he might never see her face again.
Under Hannibal’s delegated authority Elissa had it in her power to ratify the marriages of all persons under her rule at New Carthage; so in her disappointment, and while knowing that without Hannibal’s permission it would be illegal and irregular to apply this authority to her own person, she determined upon a bold stroke, and resolved instantly to celebrate her own marriage with Maharbal. Requesting the presence of Gisco and the princess as witnesses, she, much to their alarm and surprise, at once announced to them her intention; and when the guards, who had brought the news of Melania’s absence, had withdrawn, proudly drew herself up, and advancing to where Maharbal was sitting, sadly buried in thought, laid both her hands upon his shoulders, and looked him straight in the eyes. All trace of girlishness had now vanished; it was a woman, and a determined woman, who thus confronted him.
“So Melania is not to die, it seems, for if she reappear now I shall not have her executed, but carry out my father’s orders, and hand her over unto thee, or, rather, hand thee over unto her. Yea, hand over thee my affianced husband to be the affianced lover of another woman. And she, this slave, by Hannibal’s cruel command, in which, methinks, he hath dealt somewhat lightly with Hannibal’s daughter, hath been plainly ordered to live with thee as if thou wert in truth her husband. Hannibal says it is for State reasons; but State reasons or no, since I am not thy wife, and this girl is missing, I will do that which will make it for ever impossible for me to give myself as wife to any other man. For I, too, although only affianced to thee, will do my duty to thee as thy wife. And since what applies where this Iberian slave is concerned, applies equally where Hannibal’s daughter is concerned, I, Elissa, being determined to bind my life unto thine, and to thine alone for ever, now solemnly salute thee, Maharbal, as my husband, before these two witnesses, and before Melcareth and Tanais; and if Hannibal confirm not our marriage, he can, at all events, find no fault with thee or me. But be assured that he will confirm it, for he loveth me. And if thou wilt not take me, I will die.”
Seeing that if Melania reappeared, his beloved Elissa and he would be separated for ever, all Maharbal’s scruples fled from him upon hearing Elissa’s word, as leaves fly before the autumn wind. Thus it fell out that he also vowed eternal fidelity to her, saluting her as his wife before the two witnesses.
For the next few days Maharbal and Hannibal’s daughter yielded themselves up to all the delights of mutual love; for as they considered themselves actually married before the gods, Elissa became his wife in all but law. Maharbal, however, being the soul of honour, had stipulated before he yielded, that they should instantly confess the situation to Hannibal, and ask him to confirm their union without delay. To this Elissa readily agreed, for she knew her father’s immense love for herself, and believed that, as the unexpected absence of Melania had made compliance with his instructions quite impossible, he would not be so very angry at what had occurred. Moreover, she quite expected that, knowing that she and her lover had overstepped the boundary of prudence, he would yield to their wishes at once, and make them, by his sanction, man and wife; or, rather, confirm the marriage which, she considered, they had consummated.
But for all that she knew him so well, and that she and her father loved each other so dearly, she yet did not thoroughly know Hannibal the Great, nor the inflexibility of his will. He arrived at New Carthage on the morning of the fourth day after these events with a large army, and still Melania had not reappeared.
No time was lost by Maharbal and Elissa in disclosing to him the actual truth. He was vexed on finding Melania missing, but found no fault with what they had done. He merely remarked drily, and with a sarcastic smile:
“I have given certain orders, my child Elissa, and they will have to be obeyed if possible, for I go not back upon my word. Neither thou nor Maharbal have hitherto been to blame, since ye could not carry them out. And as thou wast the Regent and Governor here, Maharbal was, of course, in the meantime, bound to obey thine orders. Apparently thou hast given him instructions that he was not very loth to obey. But if thou, as the result of thy futile presumption in thinking I would make ye twain man and wife, shouldst bear to him a child, think not that I will any the more for that unite thee to him in matrimony. Far from it! I have said that Maharbal and Melania are affianced to one another, and, until I know of the girl’s death, affianced they remain. Mind I do not say married, but affianced; and that he cannot be affianced to two women at once, or wedded to one and affianced to another, is evident.”
Neither the prayers of Maharbal nor his reference to his former services, nor the tears and supplications of Elissa herself, would for a moment shake Hannibal’s will. He was not to be moved, for he was iron.
“Nay, Elissa, notwithstanding that thou hast in mine absence chosen to take the law into thine own hands, and to consider thyself the wife of Maharbal, yet, despite the oaths which thou hast sworn before two witnesses and the gods, thou art not and canst not be his wife without my consent, and that consent is withheld. Thou couldst indeed, it is true, in thy position as Regent and Governor of New Carthage, have given thine own consent, and it would have been legal, to the marriage of any others who might have bound themselves as ye have done by mutual oaths. But for thine own marriage thou wast answerable to me alone, and I will not confirm it. So that is an end of the matter. But now let us go to our mid-day meal; this subject will keep till later. I presume that thou hast made inquiries for Melania in any case?”
The shock of this blow had nearly rendered the wretched Elissa speechless. She could merely murmur:
“Ay, my father, I have sent in all directions.”
“That will do then; so now let us to our repast.”
Before the end of the meal, the old ex-soldier and now forester, who had met Melania on the hill, appeared, asking to see the lady Elissa. She shuddered when she heard of his presence with a foreboding of woe, for what could bring him but news of Melania? He brought, indeed, tidings that his sons, while hunting a wild boar, had come upon Melania lying unconscious in the forest, and that she was now reposing at his hut, and seemed nearly dead from starvation.
“That will do,” said Hannibal, giving the man a large sum of money. “Take the lady out all necessary provisions and wine, and bring her in when she is completely recovered; but see that she is completely recovered first.”
When the old man had gone, Hannibal addressed his daughter and Maharbal.
“Until Melania reappears, my children, since matters have gone so far between ye, I will not interfere in your illegal and ill-judged union. But when she arrives, remember this, thou Elissa, and thou Maharbal, that Melania and Maharbal are betrothed to each other, and Elissa and Maharbal are thenceforth to be but the merest acquaintances, nothing more.
“Now, let us be merry together, and let the wine-cup go round, for we cannot always be thinking of matters of policy or of State, and save only for them, I vow I would readily ever see ye twain together as ye are now. For, by Adonis, god of beauty, ye are a splendid couple. But duty is duty, alas!