Through the densely packed district which lay behind the lofty
warehouses crammed with goods brought by sea from all parts of the
world, he made his way until he reached the abode of a fisherman,
in whose boat he often put to sea.

The old man, with three or four grownup sons, was reclining on a
pile of rushes.

"Welcome back, my lord Malchus," he said; "glad am I to see you
safely returned. We have often talked of you, me and my sons, and
wondered when you would again go out for a night's fishing with us.
You have come back at the right time. The tunny are just entering
the bay, and in another week we shall have rare sport."

"I shall be glad, indeed, of another sail with you," Malchus said;
"but at present I have other matters in hand. Hanno and his friends
have determined to oppose the appointment of Hannibal to the army
in Spain." The fisherman gave a grunt, which signified that the
matter was one of which he knew nothing, and which affected him
not in the slightest.

"Don't you see the importance of this?" Malchus said. "If Hannibal
doesn't get the command our troops will be beaten, and we shall lose
all our trade with Spain." The fisherman still appeared apathetic.

"My sons have all taken to fishing," he said indifferently, "and
it matters nothing to them whether we lose the trade of Spain or
not."

"But it would make a difference," Malchus said, "if no more gold