Thyra had for the last year been betrothed to Adherbal, and he, too, was to accompany Hamilcar to Spain, and none could say how long it might be before they would return.
While the others were sitting round the festive board, Adherbal and Thyra strolled away among the groves in the garden.
"I do not think you care for me, Adherbal," she said reproachfully as he was speaking of the probabilities of the campaign.

"You know well that this war may continue in Spain for years, and you seem perfectly indifferent to the fact that we must be separated for that time." "I should not be indifferent to it, Thyra, if I thought for a moment that this was to be the case.

I may remain, it is true, for years in Spain; but I have not the most remote idea of remaining there alone.

At the end of the first campaign, when our army goes into winter quarters, I shall return here and fetch you." "That's all very well," the girl said, pouting; "but how do you know that I shall be willing to give up all the delights of Carthage to go among the savage Iberians, where they say the ground is all white in winter and even the rivers stop in their courses ?" Adherbal laughed lightly.

"Then it is not for you to talk about indifference, Thyra; but it won't be so bad as you fear.