excursion it was explained to them that the cups were
shut up in a temple.

"Let it be opened!" they replied.

And when the slaves confessed with trembling that they were in the
possession of Gisco, the general, they cried out:

"Let him bring them!"

Gisco soon appeared at the far end of the garden with an escort of the
Sacred Legion. His full, black cloak, which was fastened on his head to
a golden mitre starred with precious stones, and which hung all about
him down to his horse's hoofs, blended in the distance with the colour
of the night. His white beard, the radiancy of his head-dress, and his
triple necklace of broad blue plates beating against his breast, were
alone visible.

When he entered, the soldiers greeted him with loud shouts, all crying:

"The cups! The cups!"

He began by declaring that if reference were had to their courage, they
were worthy of them.

The crowd applauded and howled with joy.

HE knew it, he who had commanded them over yonder, and had returned with
the last cohort in the last galley!

"True! True!" said they.

Nevertheless, Gisco continued, the Republic had respected their national
divisions, their customs, and their modes of worship; in Carthage
they were free! As to the cups of the Sacred Legion, they were private
property. Suddenly a Gaul, who was close to Spendius, sprang over the
tables and ran straight up to Gisco, gesticulating and threatening him
with two naked swords.

Without interrupting his speech, the General struck him on the head with
his heavy ivory staff, and the Barbarian fell. The Gauls howled, and
their frenzy, which was spreading to the others, would soon have swept
away the legionaries. Gisco shrugged his shoulders as he saw them
growing pale. He thought that his courage would be useless against these
exasperated brute beasts. It would be better to revenge himself upon
them by some artifice later; accordingly, he signed to his soldiers and
slowly withdrew. Then, turning in the gateway towards the Mercenaries,
he cried to them that they would repent of it.

The feast recommenced. But Gisco might return, and by surrounding the
suburb, which was beside the last ramparts, might crush them against the
walls. Then they felt themselves alone in spite of their crowd, and the
great town sleeping beneath them in the shade suddenly made them afraid,
with its piles of staircases, its lofty black houses, and its vague gods
fiercer even than its people. In the