On an island in the centre stood a house for the marine Suffet.
The water was so limpid that the bottom was visible with its paving of white pebbles.

The noise of the streets did not reach so far, and Hamilcar as he passed recognised the triremes which he had formerly commanded.
Not more than twenty perhaps remained, under shelter on the land, leaning over on their sides or standing upright on their keels, with lofty poops and swelling prows, and covered with gildings and mystic symbols.

The chimaeras had lost their wings, the Pataec Gods their arms, the bulls their silver horns;--and half-painted, motionless, and rotten as they were, yet full of associations, and still emitting the scent of voyages, they all seemed to say to him, like mutilated soldiers on seeing their master again, "'Tis we! 'tis we! and YOU too are vanquished!" No one excepting the marine Suffet might enter the admiral's house.

So long as there was no proof of his death he was considered as still in existence.

In this way the Ancients avoided a master the more, and they had not failed to comply with the custom in respect to Hamilcar.
The Suffet proceeded into the deserted apartments.