His band of pearls was raised somewhat, and
uncovered his brow; his teeth were parted in a smile; they shone through
his black beard, and there was a silent and almost outrageous gaiety in
his half-closed eyelids.
Salammbo looked at him motionless, her head bent and her hands crossed.
A dagger was displayed on the table of cypress-wood at the head of the
bed; the sight of the gleaming blade fired her with a sanguinary desire.
Mournful voices lingered at a distance in the shade, and like a chorus
of geniuses urged her on. She approached it; she seized the steel by the
handle. At the rustling of her dress Matho half opened his eyes, putting
forth his mouth upon her hands, and the dagger fell.
Shouts arose; a terrible light flashed behind the canvas. Matho raised
the latter; they perceived the camp of the Libyans enveloped in great
flames.
Their reed huts were burning, and the twisting stems burst in the smoke
and flew off like arrows; black shadows ran about distractedly on the
red horizon. They could hear the shrieks of those who were in the
huts; the elephants, oxen, and horses plunged in the midst of the crowd
crushing it together with the stores and baggage that were being rescued
from the fire. Trumpets sounded. There were calls of "Matho! Matho!"
Some people at the door tried to get in.
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