," said Spendius, "and first of all fear nothing! I shall fulfil
my promise--"

He stopped abruptly, and seemed to reflect as though searching for
words,--"Do you remember that time at sunrise when I showed Carthage to
you on Salammbo's terrace? We were strong that day, but you would listen
to nothing!" Then in a grave voice: "Master, in the sanctuary of Tanith
there is a mysterious veil, which fell from heaven and which covers the
goddess."

"I know," said Matho.

Spendius resumed: "It is itself divine, for it forms part of her. The
gods reside where their images are. It is because Carthage possesses
it that Carthage is powerful." Then leaning over to his ear: "I have
brought you with me to carry it off!"

Matho recoiled in horror. "Begone! look for some one else! I will not
help you in this execrable crime!"

"But Tanith is your enemy," retorted Spendius; "she is persecuting you
and you are dying through her wrath. You will be revenged upon her. She
will obey you, and you will become almost immortal and invincible."

Matho bent his head. Spendius continued:

"We should succumb; the army would be annihilated of itself. We have
neither flight, nor succour, nor pardon to hope for! What chastisement
from the gods can you be afraid of since you will have their power in
your own hands? Would you rather die on the evening of a defeat, in
misery beneath the shelter of a bush, or amid the outrages of the
populace and the flames of funeral piles? Master, one day you will enter
Carthage among the colleges of the pontiffs, who will kiss your sandals;
and if the veil of Tanith weighs upon you still, you will reinstate it
in its temple. Follow me! come and take it."

Matho was consumed by a terrible longing. He would have liked to possess
the veil while refraining from the sacrilege. He said to himself that
perhaps it would not be necessary to take it in order to monopolise its
virtue. He did not go to the bottom of his thought but stopped at the
boundary, where it terrified him.

"Come on!" he said; and they went off with rapid strides, side by side,
and without speaking.

The ground rose again, and the dwellings were near. They turned again
into the narrow streets amid the darkness. The strips of esparto-grass
with which the doors were closed, beat against the walls. Some camels
were ruminating in a square before heaps of cut grass. Then they passed
beneath a gallery covered with foliage. A pack of dogs were barking.