Then he stood still with staring eyelids, and panted as though he were about to die.
But he clapped his hands three times.

Giddenem appeared.
"Listen!" he said, "go and take from among the slaves a male child from eight to nine years of age, with black hair and swelling forehead! Bring him here! make haste!" Giddenem soon entered again, bringing forward a young boy.
He was a miserable child, at once lean and bloated; his skin looked greyish, like the infected rag hanging to his sides; his head was sunk between his shoulders, and with the back of his hand he was rubbing his eyes, which were filled with flies.
How could he ever be confounded with Hannibal! and there was no time to choose another.

Hamilcar looked at Giddenem; he felt inclined to strangle him.
"Begone!" he cried; and the master of the slaves fled.
The misfortune which he had so long dreaded was therefore come, and with extravagant efforts he strove to discover whether there was not some mode, some means to escape it.
Abdalonim suddenly spoke from behind the door.

The Suffet was being asked for.

The servants of Moloch were growing impatient.
Hamilcar repressed a cry as though a red hot iron had burnt him; and he began anew to pace the room like one distraught.