Carthage (Extinct city) -- History -- Fiction; Historical fiction
Men in black robes presented themselves in the houses. In many instances
the owners had deserted them under pretence of some business, or of some
dainty that they were going to buy; and the servants of Moloch came and
took the children away. Others themselves surrendered them stupidly.
Then they were brought to the temple of Tanith, where the priestesses
were charged with their amusement and support until the solemn day.
They visited Hamilcar suddenly and found him in his gardens.
“Barca! we come for that that you know of—your son!” They added
that some people had met him one evening during the previous moon in the
centre of the Mappalian district being led by an old man.
He was as though suffocated at first. But speedily understanding that
any denial would be in vain, Hamilcar bowed; and he brought them into
the commercial house. Some slaves who had run up at a sign kept watch
all round about it.
He entered Salammbô’s room in a state of distraction. He seized
Hannibal with one hand, snatched up the cord of a trailing garment with
the other, tied his feet and hands with it, thrust the end into his
mouth to form a gag, and hid him under the bed of the ox-hides by
letting an ample drapery fall to the ground.
Afterwards he walked about from right to left, raised his arms, wheeled
round, bit his lips. Then he stood still with staring eyelids, and
panted as though he were about to die.
But he clapped his hands three times. Giddenem appeared.
“Listen!” he said, “go and take from among the slaves a male child
from eight to nine years of age, with black hair and swelling forehead!
Bring him here! make haste!”
Giddenem soon entered again, bringing forward a young boy.
He was a miserable child, at once lean and bloated; his skin looked
greyish, like the infected rag hanging to his sides; his head was sunk
between his shoulders, and with the back of his hand he was rubbing his
eyes, which were filled with flies.
How could he ever be confounded with Hannibal! and there was no time
to choose another. Hamilcar looked at Giddenem; he felt inclined to
strangle him.
“Begone!” he cried; and the master of the slaves fled.
The misfortune which he had so long dreaded was therefore come, and with
extravagant efforts he strove to discover whether there was not some
mode, some means to escape it.
Abdalonim suddenly spoke from behind the door. The Suffet was being
asked for. The servants of Moloch were growing impatient.
Hamilcar repressed a cry as though a red hot iron had burnt him; and
he began anew to pace the room like one distraught. Then he sank down
beside the balustrade, and, with his elbows on his knees, pressed his
forehead into his shut fists.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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