The Young Carthaginian: A Story of The Times of Hannibal, G. A. Henty [best e reader for manga txt] 📗

by the way, and above all, the deadly conflict which would take place before Rome could be carried by assault, and the great rival of Carthage be humbled to the dust. Then he pictured the return of the triumphant expedition, the shouting multitudes who would acclaim Hannibal the sole arbitrator of the destinies of Carthage, and in his heart rejoiced over the changes which would take place—the overthrow of the faction of Hanno, the reform of abuses, the commencement of an era of justice, freedom, and prosperity for all.

For more than three hours he sat thus, and then awoke to the fact that the night was cold and the hour late. Drawing his bernous tightly round him he descended into the city, which was now for the most part wrapped in sleep. He was passing through the native quarter when a door opened and several men came out. Scarcely knowing why he did so Malchus drew back into a doorway until they had moved on ahead of him, and then followed them at some little distance. At any other time he would have thought nothing of such an incident, but his nerves were highly strung at the moment, and his pause was dictated more by an indisposition to encounter anything which might disturb the current of his thoughts than by any other motive.

In the moonlight he could see that two of the five men ahead of him were members of the Carthaginian horse guard, for the light glittered on their helmets; the other three were, by their attire, natives. Two of the latter soon separated from the others, and on reaching the better part of the town the two Carthaginians turned down a side street, and in the still night Malchus heard the parting words to their neighbour, “At the same place tomorrow night.” The remaining native kept straight along the road which Malchus was following. Still onward he went, and Malchus, to his surprise, saw him go up to one of the side entrances to Hannibal's palace. He must have knocked very quietly, or someone must have been waiting to admit him, for without a sound the door was opened and the man entered.

Malchus went round to the principal entrance, and after a little badinage from the officer on guard as to the lateness of the hour at which he returned, made his way to his apartment.

He was puzzled by what he had seen. It was strange that two of the Carthaginian guard, men necessarily belonging to noble families, should have been at a native gathering of some sort in the upper town. Strange, too, that a man probably an attendant or slave belonging to the palace should also have been present. The more he thought of it the more he was puzzled to account for it, and before he went to sleep he came to the resolution that he would, if possible, on the following night discover the object of such a gathering.

Next evening, therefore, he returned from the Syssite early, exchanged his helmet for a skullcap, and, wrapping himself in his cloak, made his way to the house from which he had seen the men come forth. It stood at the corner of the street. Thick hangings hung across the openings for the windows, and prevented even a ray of light from finding its way out. Listening attentively Malchus could hear a low hum of voices within. As there were still people about he moved away for half an hour.

On his return the street was deserted. Malchus put his hand through a window opening into the side street and felt that the hanging was composed of rushes tightly plaited together. With the point of his dagger he very cautiously cut a slit in this, and applying his eye to it was able to obtain a glimpse of the apartment within. On low stools by a fire two Carthaginians were sitting, while four natives were seated on the rushes which covered the floor. Malchus recognized the Carthaginians at once, for they were members of the troop in which he had served. Neither of them were men popular among their fellows, for they belonged to families closely related to Hanno. They had always, however, professed the greatest admiration for Hannibal, and had declared that for their part they altogether repudiated the doings of the party to which their family belonged.

The conversation was carried on in low tones, a precaution absolutely necessary in the day when glass windows were unknown, unless the discourse was upon general subjects. Malchus listened attentively, but although he thought he caught the words Hanno and Hannibal repeated several times, he was unable to hear more. At the end of the half hour the conference was apparently at an end, for all rose to their feet. One of the Carthaginians put a bag, which was evidently heavy, into the hands of one of the natives, and the party then went out. Malchus stepped to the corner and caught the words, “Tomorrow night, then, without fail.”

The party then separated, the Carthaginians passing straight on, the natives waiting until they had gone some little distance ahead before they followed. Malchus remained for some little time in the side street before he sallied out and took his way after them. After he saw two of the natives leave the other, he quickened his steps and passed the man, who proceeded alone towards the palace, a short distance before he arrived there. As he did so he glanced at his face, and recognized him as one of the attendants who waited at Hannibal's table. Malchus did not turn his head, however, but kept straight on his way and entered the palace as usual.

“Malchus,” the captain of the guard laughed as he went in, “assuredly I shall have to tell Hamilcar of your doings. Last night you entered an hour after every one had retired to rest, tonight you are back in better time, but assuredly you have not been to the Syssite in that hunting cap. This savours of a mystery. Do not pretend to me that you have been looking after your company of Numidians at this time of the night, because, did you swear it by Astarte, I should not believe you.”

“No; I think I could invent a better story than that if I were put to it,” Malchus said with a laugh; “but as I am not obliged to invent one at all, I will leave you to do so for me. In truth I have been about some private business, but what that business is is a profound secret.”

“A secret of state, no doubt,” the officer rejoined. “Well, I will say nothing this time; but do not let it occur again, or I shall think that some Iberian maiden has captured that susceptible heart of yours.”

After Malchus had reached his chamber he sat down for some time in deep thought. It was clear to him that something was wrong. This secret meeting of the two Carthaginians with natives, one of whom was employed in Hannibal's household, could mean no good. Money had passed, too, and, judging from the size and apparent weight of the bag, no inconsiderable amount. What could it mean? It was but a few months before that Hasdrubal had fallen beneath the dagger of a native servant. Could this be a plot against the life of Hannibal?

The two Carthaginians were connected with Hanno, and might well be agents employed to rid him of his great rival. And yet he had heard nothing which would justify his bringing so grave an accusation against these men. The money which he had seen exchanged might be for the price of a horse or of a slave, and he might only make himself ridiculous were he to speak to Hannibal or his father as to what had occurred. He decided, therefore, that any action he might take must be on his own account. If the words he had overheard meant anything, and if a plot