their fretted and sweating bodies bare, passed like an endless rosary along the boards leading from the mole to the ships, as they carried the merchandise from where it lay piled on the wharf into the concave holds of the vessels.

In the centre of the great middle basin rose a tower guarding the entrance to the port; a solid structure with its stone foundations laid in the deepest water. Moored to the rings which adorned its walls lay a ship of war, a Liburnian galley, high of stern, the prow a sheep's head, the great square sail furled, an armored fore-castle near the mast, and on the gunwales, forming a double row, the shields of the classiarii, soldiers destined for marine combats. It was a Roman vessel which at daybreak next morning was to set sail, bearing the ambassadors sent by the great Republic to settle the political disorders which agitated Saguntum.

In the second basin, a tranquil square of water where boats were constructed and repaired, sounded the hammers of the calkers striking against the wood. The dismasted galleys lay on the bank like sick monsters, showing through their lacerated flanks their strong frames and their pitch-blackened interiors. In the third and smallest, a lake of filthy waters, the fishermen's barks were anchored. Flocks of gulls whirled around them, darting down upon the spoils which floated on the water, while along the bank crowded women, old men, and boys, awaiting the arrival of the barks with fish from the Sucronian Gulf, which were sold in the interior to the more advanced tribes of Celtiberia.

The arrival of the Saguntine ship had drawn all the people of the port away from their tasks. The slaves worked lazily while their overseers were preoccupied by the entrance of the trireme, and even phlegmatic citizens seated on the mole, rod in hand, trying to capture corpulent eels which abounded in the basin, forgot their fishing while they watched the advance of the Victoriata. She had by this time come into the canal. Her hull could not be seen. The mast, with its motionless sail, rose above the tall reeds which bordered the entrance to the port.

The afternoon silence was interrupted by the hoarse cry of innumerable frogs croaking in the marshes and the chattering of birds which fluttered in the olive trees near the fane of Aphrodite. The hammer-blows of the arsenal rung more and more slowly; the people of the port were silent, watching the progress of the ship of Polyanthus. As the Victoriata rounded the sharp bend of the canal the gilded image of the prow hove into sight, and then the first oars quickly followed, like enormous red talons, clutching the glossy surface of the water with a force which flung aloft the white spray.

The crowd, amid which chafed the eagerly watching families of the mariners, burst into acclamations as the ship swung into the port.

"Greeting, Polyanthus! Welcome, son of Aphrodite! May Sónnica, your mistress, overwhelm you with riches!"

Naked, brown-skinned boys dived head-first into the basin, swimming around the ship like a swarm of young Tritons.

The people of the port praised their compatriot Polyanthus, exaggerating his skill. According to them his ship lacked nothing; well might the rich Sónnica be satisfied with her freedman. Forward on the vessel stood the proreta, motionless as a statue, watching with swift glances to discover the presence of obstacles; the crew, naked, their sweaty backs glistening in the sun, bent over the oars, and on the poop the gubernator, Polyanthus himself, insensible to weariness, wrapped in his ample red mantle, the tiller firmly held in his right hand, and in his left a white staff which he waved rhythmically, marking the swing of the rowers. Near the mast stood men in strange costumes, and motionless women wrapped in flowing mantles.

The ship glided into the port like an enormous crustacean, parting the dead and silent waters with her prow, which but recently had been fretting the waters of the gulf.

As she cast anchor near the mole and threw out her gang-plank, the rowers were forced to club back the multitude which crowded forward eager to board the ship.

The pilot gave orders from the poop; his red robe moved from place to place like a flame kindled by the setting sun.

"Eh! Polyanthus! Welcome, navigator! What cargo do you bring?"

The pilot saw two young horsemen on the bank. The one who addressed him was wrapped in a white mantle; one of its corners covered his head, leaving exposed his beard done into curls and lustrous with pomatum. The other clung to the back of his steed with his strong bare legs; he wore the sagum of the Celtiberians, a short wool tunic over which the broadsword hung from his shoulder, and his hair, as thick and dishevelled as his beard, outlined a brown and manly countenance.

"Greeting, Lachares! Greeting, Alorcus!" replied the pilot with an expression of respect. "Shall you see Sónnica, my mistress?"

"This very night," answered Lachares. "We sup at her country-seat. What bring you?"

"Tell her that I have argentiferous lead from New Carthage, and wool from Bætica. Excellent voyage!"

The two youths tugged at their horses' reins.

"Ah! Wait a moment," added Polyanthus. "Tell her that I have not forgotten her instructions. I am bringing what you so greatly desire, the dancing girls from Gades."

"We are all grateful to you," said Lachares, laughing. "Hail, Polyanthus; may Neptune favor you!"

The two riders set off at a gallop, becoming lost to view among the hovels grouped around the base of the temple of Aphrodite.

Meanwhile one of the ship's passengers landed, making his way through the crowd. He was a Greek. All knew his origin by the pilos which covered his head, a conical leather helmet, after the fashion of that worn by Ulysses in Greek paintings. He was clad in a short, dark tunic, adjusted around his waist by a leather belt, from which hung a pouch. His chlamys, which did not reach his knees, was fastened at the right shoulder by a copper brooch; worn and dusty laced shoes covered his stockingless feet, and his sinewy arms, carefully freed from hair, rested on a great dart which was almost a lance. His hair, short and arranged in thick curls, hung beneath the pilos, forming a hollow crown around his head. It was black, but silvery threads shone in it and also in his broad short beard. His upper lip was carefully shaved in the Athenian style.

He was a strong and agile man, in the prime of life, healthy and vigorous. His eyes had an ironic glance, and in them sparkled something of that fire which reveals men born for warfare and for contact with the world. He walked at ease about the unfamiliar port, like a traveler accustomed to all manner of contrasts and surprises.

The sun began to sink, and work at the port had ceased. The crowd which had swarmed on the wharf was gradually scattering. Bands of slaves stretching their aching limbs and wiping off the sweat, passed near the stranger. Controlled by the clubs of their guards, they were about to be locked up until the next morning in caves in the nearby hill, or in the oil mills situated beyond the mariners' taverns, the inns, and the brothels, with their mud walls and broad roofs, which as a complement to the port were grouped at the foot of the hill of Aphrodite.

The merchants also left in search of their horses and chariots to ride to the city. They passed in groups, looking over the records on their tablets, and discussing the operations of the day. Their diverse types, dress, and bearing, showed a great mixture of races in Zacynthus, a commercial city to which in ancient times flocked the vessels of the Mediterranean, and whose traffic was in rivalry with that of Emporion and Massilia. The Asiatic or African merchants who imported ivory, ostrich feathers, spices, and perfumes for the rich of the city, were distinguished by their majestic step, their tunics with flowers and