They paused, some asserting that it was right to summon Matho. He was
sent for.
Hanno fell upon the grass; and he saw around him other crosses also, as
though the torture by which he was about to perish had been multiplied
beforehand; he made efforts to convince himself that he was mistaken,
that there was only one, and even to believe that there were none at
all. At last he was lifted up.
"Speak!" said Matho.
He offered to give up Hamilcar; then they would enter Carthage and both
be kings.
Matho withdrew, signing to the others to make haste. It was a stratagem,
he thought, to gain time.
The Barbarian was mistaken; Hanno was in an extremity when consideration
is had to nothing, and, moreover, he so execrated Hamilcar that he
would have sacrificed him and all his soldiers on the slightest hope of
safety.
The Ancients were languishing on the ground at the foot of the crosses;
ropes had already been passed beneath their armpits. Then the old
Suffet, understanding that he must die, wept.
They tore off the clothes that were still left on him--and the horror
of his person appeared. Ulcers covered the nameless mass; the fat on his
legs hid the nails on his feet; from his fingers there hung what looked
like greenish strips; and the tears streaming through the tubercles on
his cheeks gave to his face an expression of frightful sadness, for
they seemed to take up more room than on another human face.
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