with a great man, and surely a few of the
words he could choose and speak so well would compel the Carthaginian
to value him at his worth. Still, there was something that impressed
upon him the unwisdom of speech, and, after a moment of embarrassed
indecision, he turned and strode away after the rest, seeking to
conceal the humiliation of his retreat by the swagger of his gait and
the fierceness of his expression--which there was no one to see.

While this little comedy was passing, he, whose advent had been its
occasion, was regarding Marcia fixedly; but he now looked into eyes
that neither quailed nor wandered before his own. At last he spoke,
and in Latin:--

"I am Mago, the son of Hamilcar. What brings a Roman woman to Capua in
these days?"

This youth, then, was the famous brother of Hannibal; the commander of
the ambush at the Trebia. His voice was cold, harsh, and metallic, and
in his eyes there was none of the rude lust of the Gaul or the polished
licentiousness of the Capuan. They burned only with the fires that
light the souls of patriots and leaders of men.

"I come," said Marcia, slowly, "for several reasons, and believing that
Carthage does not make war upon women."

The eyes lost nothing of their cold scrutiny at the implied compliment
or the covert reproach.

"And what reasons?" he asked sharply.

"For the one," replied Marcia, and she was conscious of an effort in
holding her voice to its steady inflection; "that my house is bound in
hospitality to that of Pacuvius Calavius--"

Mago's brow cleared for an instant.

"Our friend," he said. "He is married to one of your Claudians." Then
it darkened again as he continued: "Well, and you seek him for what?
To tempt him back to Rome?"

"I seek him," said Marcia, boldly, "because I am wise. Have I not seen
the narrowing of Rome's resources? the quarrels of the factions? I
have come from there, and I tell you that, if Hannibal have patience
until the spring, it is Rome that will beg him to take her. What part
has a woman with a man who cannot protect himself! Let her look for a
new defender, if she be wise."

An odd look had come into the Carthaginian's face as she spoke, a look
more scornful but less threatening.

"You speak true woman's philosophy," he said. "That is the philosophy
of these times. I am convinced that there _were_ days, and women--but
pah! now it is only glory that is worthy to be a man's bride. Come, I
will lead y