Do you not see that I also wear mourning for this
melancholy error?"

"Never shall I rise or face you," cried Calavius, "until you give me
your oath that I shall have your forgiveness before I die. Ah, the
monster! the parricide! who would slay, at one stroke, both him who had
brought him up to better deeds, and him who is indeed the father of his
country. Ah, gods! the shame of it! Give orders, lord, quickly--only
vow first that you forgive me."

Hannibal's tones were low and deep with sorrow, and, by an
imperceptible effort of what must have been prodigious strength, he
raised the unwilling Calavius to his feet.

"Listen, my father," he said. "Have they not told you how I knew not
the young man? He was stained and dishevelled with revellings in
honour of our alliance--in honour of me, unhappy one. Perchance the
Lord Bacchus, whom you worship, willed to have him for his own, for
surely it was he that raised the young man's hand against me. Ah! my
father, did I not know how this son of thine was most beautiful, best,
and bravest of the Capuan youth? Had I not marked him out for signal
honour--only less than yours, my father and his? See, now, how the
gods confuse the affairs of men. It was at the banquet that I learned
his worth, and determined that he should love me and find in me a
friend."

"Truly yes," interrupted Calavius, "and you had won his heart, for,
walking in the garden, he told me as much, only adding that he must
appear to turn to you slowly--for the honour of his name among the
partisans of Rome, whom may the gods confound as they have done."

Hannibal smiled softly, as he took up the words:--

"All this I knew well, being somewhat learned in men, my father; and
now the gods have smitten my brother with madness that he should try to
slay me, and myself with blindness that I should, unknowingly, order
the death of one I loved most. Look, my father, I join you in your
mourning, with black robes and ashes; I come to weep with you at the
feet of Fate--you whose love for me has lost you a son, and to offer
you myself to be a son in his place."

Calavius embraced him, mumbling prayers and vows and endearments in the
sudden joy of escaped death. Iddilcar raised his eyes from the study
of the mosaics and turned aside, shaking as if with some strong
emotion, and Hannibal spoke again.

"One thing more, my father, I would speak to you of, though for my best
interests I should hold my peace nor