“Then,” Hannibal said, rising, “we will to bed again.  Malchus, acquaint Trebon of our determination that silence is to be kept; tell him that I shall bear him in mind, and not forget his share in this night’s work.  As for you, Malchus, henceforth you are more than my cousin; you have saved my life, and I shall never forget it.  I shall tell Imilce in the morning of the danger which has passed, for it is sure to come to her ears, and she will know better than I do how to thank you.”

Accordingly in the morning Hannibal’s orders were carried out; the twelve natives taken prisoners were beheaded without any of the usual tortures which would have been inflicted upon a similar occasion.  No less than fourteen others had been killed in the fight.  The two Carthaginian nobles were sent for by Hannibal.  They came prepared to die, for they knew already by rumour that the attempt had failed, and doubted not when the summons reached them that Carpadon had denounced them as his accomplices.  But they went to their certain doom with the courage of their class —­ pale, perhaps, but otherwise unmoved.  Hannibal was alone with Hamilcar when they entered.

“That assassination is not an altogether unknown crime in Carthage,” he said quietly, “I was well aware, but I did not before think that nobles in the Carthaginian horse would stoop to it.  I know that it was you who provided the gold for the payment of the men who made an attempt upon my life, that you personally paid my attendant Carpadon to hire assassins, and to lead them to my chamber.  Were I to denounce you, my soldiers would tear you in pieces.  The very name of your families would be held accursed by all honest men in Carthage for all time.  I do not ask you whether I have given you cause for offence, for I know that I have not done so; you acted simply for the benefit of Hanno.  Whether you were instructed by him I do not deign to ask.  I shall not harm you.  The tale of your infamy is known to but four persons, and none others will ever know it.  I am proud of the honour of the nobles of Carthage, and would not that the scum of the people should bandy the name of your families on their lips as guilty of so foul an act of treason.  You will, of course, at once resign your positions in the Carthaginian horse.  Make what pretext you will —­ illness or private affairs.  Tomorrow sail for Carthage, and there strive by efforts for the good of your country to efface the remembrance of this blow which you would have struck her.”

So saying, with a wave of the hand he dismissed them.

They went without a word, too astonished at his clemency, too humiliated by their own disgrace even to utter a word of thanks.  When they were fairly beyond the palace they looked at each other as men awakened from a dream.

“What a man!” one of them exclaimed.  “No wonder the soldiers adore him!  He has given us our lives —­ more, he has saved our names from disgrace.  Henceforth, Pontus, we, at least, can never again take part against him.”