the inhabitants were
beginning to fire the engines. All had fought
desperately. But, the
tumult which was going on in the direction of
the
bridge increasing in an incomprehensible fashion, Matho had struck
across the mountain by the shortest road, and as the Barbarians were
fleeing over the plain he had encountered nobody.
Facing him were little pyramidal masses rearing themselves in the
shade, and on this side of the river and closer to him were
motionless" target="_blank" title="a.静止的;固定的">
motionlesslights on the surface of the ground. In fact the Carthaginians had
fallen back behind the
bridge, and to
deceive the Barbarians the
Suffet had stationed numerous posts upon the other bank.
Matho, still advancing, thought that he could
distinguish Punic
engines, for horses' heads which did not stir appeared in the air
fixed upon the tops of piles of staves which could not be seen; and
further off he could hear a great clamour, a noise of songs, and
clashing of cups.
Then, not
knowing where he was nor how to find Spendius, assailed with
anguish, scared, and lost in the darkness, he returned more
impetuously by the same road. The dawn as growing grey when from the
top of the mountain he perceived the town with the carcases of the
engines blackened by the flames and looking like giant skeletons
leaning against the walls.
All was
peaceful amid
extraordinary silence and
heaviness. Among his
soldiers on the verge of the tents men were
sleeping nearly naked,
each upon his back, or with his
forehead against his arm which was
supported by his cuirass. Some were unwinding bloodstained bandages
from their legs. Those who were doomed to die rolled their heads about
gently; others dragged themselves along and brought them drink. The
sentries walked up and down along the narrow paths in order to warm
themselves, or stood in a
fierce attitude with their faces turned
towards the
horizon, and their pikes on their shoulders. Matho found
Spendius sheltered beneath a rag of
canvas, supported by two sticks
set in the ground, his knee in his hands and his head cast down.
They remained for a long time without speaking.
At last Matho murmured: "Conquered!"
Spendius rejoined in a
gloomy voice: "Yes,
conquered!"
And to all questions he replied by gestures of despair.
Meanwhile sighs and death-rattles reached them. Matho
partially opened
the
canvas. Then the sight of the soldiers reminded him of another
disaster on the same spot, and he ground his teeth: "Wretch! once
already--"
Spendius interrupted him: "You were not there either."
"It is a curse!" exclaimed Matho. "Nevertheless, in the end I will
get at him! I will
conquer him! I will slay him! Ah! if I had been
there!--" The thought of having missed the battle rendered him even
more
desperate than the defeat. He snatched up his sword and threw it
upon the ground. "But how did the Carthaginians beat you?"
The former slave began to describe the manoeuvres. Matho seemed to see
them, and he grew angry. The army from Utica ought to have taken
Hamilcar in the rear instead of hastening to the
bridge.
"Ah! I know!" said Spendius.
"You ought to have made your ranks twice as deep, avoided exposing the
velites against the phalanx, and given free passage to the elephants.
Everything might have been recovered at the last moment; there was no
necessity to fly."
Spendius replied:
"I saw him pass along in his large red cloak, with uplifted arms and
higher than the dust, like an eagle flying upon the flank of the
cohorts; and at every nod they closed up or darted forward; the throng
carried us towards each other; he looked at me, and I felt the cold
steel as it were in my heart."
"He selected the day, perhaps?" whispered Matho to himself.
They questioned each other,
trying to discover what it was that had
brought the Suffet just when circumstances were most unfavourable.
They went on to talk over the situation, and Spendius, to extenuate
his fault, or to
revive his courage, asserted that some hope still
remained.
"And if there be none, it matters not!" said Matho; "alone, I will
carry on the war!"
"And I too!" exclaimed the Greek, leaping up; he
strode to and fro,
his eyes sparkling, and a strange smile wrinkled his jackal face.
"We will make a fresh start; do not leave me again! I am not made for
battles in the sunlight--the flashing of swords troubles my sight; it
is a disease, I lived too long in the ergastulum. But give me walls to
scale at night, and I will enter the citadels, and the corpses shall
be cold before cock-crow! Show me any one, anything, an enemy, a
treasure, a woman,--a woman," he
repeated, "were she a king's