amlets and towers in the
Saguntine domain.

Again Actaeon saw the Celtiberian shepherd in the colonnades, moving from
one group of rustics to another, listening to their conversation. As he
passed near the Greek he gazed at him with those enigmatic eyes which
awoke within him shadowy recollections.

All at once the young potter arose and started to run, hiding behind the
columns around the Forum.

"He has seen his father," said Rhanto quietly. "There is Mopsus coming
down from the Acropolis."

Actaeon advanced to meet the archer.

"My word has been sufficient to have you received by the Senate. The
city will soon need good soldiers like yourself. The elders seemed
somewhat alarmed this morning. They fear Hannibal, that young cub of
Hamilcar, who now leads the Carthaginians, and who will not calmly brook
our friendship with the Romans and the execution of his sympathizers in
Saguntum. Here, take this; it is the advance pay which the Republic
allows you."

He tendered Actaeon a handful of coins, which the Greek put into his
pouch. Mopsus then invited him to his house to meet his sons and to
dine; but the Athenian was obliged to plead his previous invitation to
Sonnica's banquet.

When the archer had left, Actaeon felt the torment of thirst, and,
remembering the philosopher's recommendations, he entered the
establishment of the Roman whose Lauronian wine inspired so much
enthusiasm in Euphobias. At the counter he changed a victoriatus, and
was given a boat-shaped terra cotta patera full of black wine crowned
with iridescent bubbles. Two soldiers were drinking in a corner of the
tavern--two rough mercenaries with the faces of bandits. One was an
Iberian, the other with bronzed skin and athletic frame looked like a
Libyan, and his cheeks, calloused by the helmet and his neck and arms
furrowed with cicatrices, denoted the professional paid warrior who had
fought with indifference since childhood, now in the service of one
nation and now in that of its adversary.

"I am in the service of Saguntum," said the Libyan. "These merchants pay
better than those of Carthage. But, believe me, although content to live
in this town, I realize that they have done an unlucky thing in
displeasing Hannibal. Rome is strong, but Rome is far away, and that
lion's whelp prowls only a few days journey from here. You ought to have
known him, to have seen him from boyhood as I have done when I was
fighting under the orders of his father H