Malchus mounted his horse and rode out through the narrow streets of the lower city, through the gateway leading into the suburb, then he loosed the rein and the horse started at a gallop along the broad road, lined with stately mansions, and in a quarter of an hour stopped in front of the villa of Hamilcar.

Throwing his bridle to a slave he ran up the broad steps of the portico and entered the hall.  His mother, a stately woman, clad in a long flowing garment of rich material embroidered in gold, arms and neck bare, her hair bound up in a knot at the back of her head, which was encircled by a golden fillet, with pendants of the same metal encrusted with gems falling on her forehead, rose eagerly to meet him, and his two sisters, girls older than himself, clad in white robes, confined at the waist with golden belts, leaped to their feet with a cry of gladness.

“Welcome back, my own son,” his mother said; “all is well, I hope, with your father; It is so, I am sure, for I should read evil news in your face.”

“He is well, mother, well and victorious, though we had a rare fight for it, I can tell you.  But he is kept at the Barcine Syssite on matters connected with this terrible business of the death of Hasdrubal.  He bade me give you his love, and say he would be back here as soon as he could get away.”

“It is terrible news indeed, Malchus.  The loss is a grievous blow to Carthage, but especially to us who are his near kinsfolk; but for the moment let us set it aside and talk of your doings.  How the sun has bronzed your face, child!  You seem to have grown taller and stouter since you have been away.

“Yes,” one of the sisters laughed, “the child is growing up, mother; you will have to choose another name for him.”

“I think it is about time,” Malchus said, joining in the laugh, “considering that I have killed a lion and have taken part in a desperate hand-to-hand fight with the wild Atarantes.  I think even my mother must own that l am attaining the dignity of youth.”

“I wonder your father let you take part in such strife,” the mother said anxiously; “he promised me that he would, as far as possible, keep you out of danger.”

“Why, mother,” Malchus said indignantly, “you don’t suppose that my father was going to coddle me as he might do one of the girls here.  You know he has promised that I shall soon enter the Carthaginian guard, and fight in the next campaign.  I think it has been very hard on me not to have had a chance of distinguishing myself as my cousin Hannibal did when he was no older than I am.”

“Poor boy,” his sister laughed, “he has indeed been unfortunate.  Who can say but that if he had only had opportunities he would have been a general by this time, and that Rome would have been trembling at the clash of his armour.”

Malchus joined heartily in the laugh about himself.

“I shall never grow to be a general,” he said, “unless you get me some food; it is past midday, and I have not broken my fast this morning.  I warn you that I shall not tell you a word of our adventures until I have eaten, therefore the sooner you order a meal to be served the better.”