“That is well,” the praetor said, “it is a piece of good fortune.  The Carthaginians have so many of our officers in their hands, that it is well to have some whom we may exchange for them.  Let them be landed.”

As they left the ship the Carthaginians laid down their arms and armour.  By this time a large number of the Roman garrison, among whom the news had rapidly spread, were assembled at the port.  Many of the young soldiers had never yet seen a Carthaginian, and they looked with curiosity and interest at the men who had inflicted such terrible defeats upon the armies of the Romans.  They were fine specimens of Hannibal’s force, for the general had allowed Malchus to choose his own officers and men, and, knowing that strength, agility, and endurance would be needed for a campaign in so mountainous a country as Sardinia, he had picked both officers and men with great care.

His second in command was his friend Trebon, who had long since obtained a separate command, but who, on hearing from Malchus of the expedition on which he was bound, had volunteered to accompany him.  The men were all Africans accustomed to desert fighting and trained in warfare in Spain.  The Romans, good judges of physical strength, could not repress a murmur of admiration at the sight of these sinewy figures.  Less heavy than themselves, there was about them a spring and an elasticity resembling that of the tiger.  Long use had hardened their muscles until they stood up like cords through their tawny skin, most of them bore numerous scars of wounds received in battle, and the Romans, as they viewed them, acknowledged to themselves what formidable opponents these men would be.

A strong guard formed up on either side of the captives, and they were marched through the town to the citadel on the upper part of the rock.  Here a large chamber, opening on to the courtyard, was assigned to the officers, while the men, who were viewed in the light of slaves, were at once set to work to carry stores up to the citadel from a ship which had arrived just as the storm broke.

A fortnight later a vessel arrived from Rome with a message from the senate that they would not exchange prisoners, and that the Carthaginians were at once to be employed as slaves in the mines.  The governor acquainted Malchus with the decision.

“I am sorry,” he said, “indeed, that it is so; but the senate are determined that they will exchange no prisoners.  Of course their view of the matter is, that when a Roman lays down his arms he disgraces himself, and the refusal to ransom him or allow him to be exchanged is intended to act as a deterrent to others.  This may be fair enough in cases where large numbers surrender to a few, or where they lay down their arms when with courage and determination they might have cut their way through the enemy; but in cases where further resistance would be hopeless, in my mind men are justified in surrendering.  However, I can only obey the orders I have received, and tomorrow must send you and your men to the mines.”