Short as was the time which he had at liberty, Malchus had thrown a glance over the bulwarks of each side of the ship, and perceived that any resistance would have been useless, for far away lay the lights of Carthage; and it was evident that the vessel had made little progress since he had retired to rest on the previous evening.  Had she been inside the harbour he had intended to spring overboard at once and to trust to escape by swimming.

The person in command of the party which had seized Malchus took his place at the helm of the boat, and his twelve agents seated themselves at the oars and rowed away towards Carthage.  The town was nearly eight miles away, and they were two hours before they arrived there.  The place where they landed was at some distance from the busy part of the port.  Two men were waiting for them there with a stretcher.  Upon this Malchus was laid, four men lifted it on their shoulders, the others fell in round it as a guard, and the party then proceeded through quiet streets towards the citadel.

The hour was late and but few people were about.  Any who paused for a moment to look at the little procession, shrank away hastily on hearing the dreaded words, “In the name of the republic,” uttered by the leader of the party.  The citizens of Carthage were too well accustomed to midnight arrests to give the matter further thought, save a momentary wonder as to who was the last victim of the tyrants of the city, and to indulge, perhaps, in a secret malediction upon them.  Malchus had from the first no doubt as to his destination, and when he felt a sudden change in the angle at which the stretcher was carried, knew that he was being taken up the steep ascent to Byrsa.

He heard presently the challenge of a sentry, then there was a pause as the gates were opened, then he was carried forward for awhile, there was another stop, and the litter was lowered to the ground, his cords were unfastened, and he was commanded to rise.  It needed but a glance upwards to tell him where he was.  Above him towered the dark mass of the temple of Moloch, facing him was a small door known to every citizen of Carthage as leading to the dungeons under the temple.

Brave as he was, Malchus could not resist a shudder as he entered the portal, accompanied by four of his guards and preceded by a jailer.  No questions were asked by the latter, and doubtless the coming of the prisoner had been expected and prepared for.  The way lay down a long flight of steps and through several passages, all hewn in the solid rock.  They passed many closed doors, until at last they turned into one which stood open.  The gag was then removed from Malchus’ mouth, the door was closed behind him, he heard the bolts fastened, and then remained alone in perfect darkness.