“Ay, I know,” Hamilcar said bitterly; “to be judged by a secret tribunal of civilians, ignorant of even the rudimentary laws of war, and bent not upon arriving at the truth, but of gratifying their patrons and accomplices; the end, disgrace and execution.

“No, my success has been complete, although not brilliant.  I have obtained the complete submission of the Atarantes, and have brought with me ten of their principal chiefs as hostages; but my success narrowly escaped being not only a failure but a disaster.  I had in vain striven to come to blows with them, when suddenly they fell upon me at night, and in the desperate combat which followed, well nigh half my force fell; but in the end we inflicted a terrible chastisement upon them and completely humbled their pride.”

“So long as you succeeded in humbling them and bringing home hostages for their good behaviour, all is well; the lives of a few score of soldiers, more or less, matters little to Carthage.  We have but to send out an order to the tribes and we can replace them a hundred fold in a week; `tis only a failure which would be fatal.  Carthage has suffered such terrible disasters at the hands of her tributaries that she trembles at the slightest rising, for its success might be the signal for another general insurrection.  If you have humbled the Atarantes, all is well.

“I know the council have been anxiously expecting news of your expedition.  Our opinion here has been from the first that, from the small force they placed at your command, they purposely sent you to disaster, risking the chance of extended trouble in order to obtain a ground of complaint by which they could inflame the minds of the populace against our party.  But now, I recommend you to take some refreshment at once after your journey.  The inner council of the club will meet in an hour, and their deliberations are likely to be long as well as important, for the whole future of our party, and of Carthage itself, depends upon the issue.”

“Malchus,” Hamilcar said, “do you mount your horse and ride out at once and tell your mother that all has gone well with us, but that I am detained here on important business, and may not return until nightfall.”

“May I come back here, father, after I see my mother?  I would fain be of some use, if I may.  I am known to many of the sailors down at the port; I might go about among them trying to stir them up in favour of Hannibal.”

“You may come back if you like, Malchus; your sailors may aid us with their voices, or, should it come to anything like a popular disturbance, by their arms.  But, as you know, in the voting the common people count for nothing, it is the citizens only who elect, the traders, shopkeepers, and employers of labour.  Common people count for no more than the slaves, save when it comes to a popular tumult, and they frighten the shopkeeping class into voting in accordance with their views.  However, we will leave no stone unturned that may conduce to our success.  Do not hurry away from home, my boy, for your mother would think it unkind after three months’ absence.  Our council is likely to last for some hours; when it is at an end I will look for you here and tell you what has been determined upon.”