er of the city only stimulated them,
redoubled their laughter, adding insult to insult, and exciting the
whole army to join with them.

A fresh cause of indignation infuriated anew the minds of the
Saguntines. Some thought they saw something familiar in the appearance
of one of the Celtiberian warriors riding at the head of a troop of
cavalry. His gallant bearing on his horse, the arrogance with which he
galloped with firm seat in the saddle, recalled to many the sightly
procession of the Panathenaic festival. When he dismounted and removed
his helmet, wiping away the sweat, all recognized him, and raised a
shout of resentment. Alorcus! Even he! Another ingrate, faithless to the
city which had overwhelmed him with honors and distinctions! His duty as
chieftain compelled him to ignore his fraternal reception in Saguntum.

Blind with rage they drew their bows against him but the arrows fell
short of the spot where the Celtiberians were encamped. The maddened
crowd experienced one slight consolation. The groups along the wall made
way for Theron, the priest of Hercules, who advanced with the majesty of
a god, his eyes fixed on the enemy, insensible to the general adoration
which surrounded him.

The Saguntines persuaded themselves that they beheld Hercules himself,
who perhaps had abandoned his temple on the Acropolis to come down to
their walls. He was nude; an enormous lion skin covered his back. The
wild beast's claws were crossed over his breast, and his head was
covered by the cranium of the animal, with bristling whiskers, sharp
teeth, and yellow glass eyes which shone between the tossed golden mane.
His right hand clutched without visible effort the entire trunk of an
oak tree which served him as a cudgel in imitation of the mace of the
god. His shoulders towered above all other heads. His breasts were round
and strong as shields, on which the veins and sinews were traced like
tendrils winding round the muscles, and his columnar limbs, all excited
admiration. His virility was the very type of sovereign power. He was so
enormous that his head seemed small between his great shoulders,
exaggerated in size by the cushion of his muscles; his chest heaved like
a bellows, and instinctively all took a step backward, fearing contact
with that machine of flesh created for strength.

Sonnica's friends, the young gallants, who, even on this extraordinary
occasion had not forgotten to paint their faces, followed and admired