Full text of "The prince of India, or, Why Constantinople fell"

See other formats

UC-NRLF

iff ~*

Sii/H^

THE PRINCE OF INDIA

WHY CONSTANTINOPLE FELL

LEW. WALLACE

AUTHOR OF " BEN-HDR " " THE BOYHOOD OF CHRIST
"THE FAIR GOD" ETC., ETC.

Rise, too, ye Shapes and Shadows of the Past

Rise from your long-forgotten graves at last

Let us behold your faces, let us hear

The words you uttered in those days of fear

Revisit your familiar haunts again

The scenes of triumph, and tJie scenes of pain

And leave the footprints of your bleeding feet

Once more upon the pavement of the street

LONGFELLOW

VOL. II.

NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS

CONTENTS

BOOK IV

THE PALACE OF BLACHERNE

(Continued)

CHAPTER

XI. THE PRINCESS HEARS FROM THE WORLD 3

XII. LAEL TELLS OF HER Two FATHERS 18

XIII. THE HAMARI TURNS BOATMAN 26

XIV. THE PRINCESS HAS A CREED 40

XV. THE PRINCE OF INDIA PREACHES GOD TO THE

GREEKS 48

XVI. How THE NEW FAITH WAS RECEIVED 67

XVII. LAEL AND THE SWORD OF SOLOMON 81

XVIII. THE FESTIVAL OF FLOWERS 97

XIX. THE PRINCE BUILDS CASTLES FOR HIS GUL

BAHAR 105

XX. THE SILHOUETTE OF A CRIME 122

XXI. SERGIUS LEARNS A NEW LESSON 132

XXIL THE PRINCE OF INDIA SEEKS MAHOMMED 155

XXIII. SERGIUS AND NILO TAKE UP THE HUNT 183

XXIV. THE IMPERIAL CISTERN GIVES UP ITS SECRET 193

Ml.28869

BOOK V

MIRZA

CHAPTER PAGE

I. A COLD WIND FROM ADRIANOPLE 221

II. A FIRE FROM THE HEGUMEN'S TOMB 230

III. MIRZA DOES AN ERRAND FOR MAHOMMED 242

IV. THE EMIR IN ITALY 256

V. THE PRINCESS IREK& IN TOWN 280

VI. COUNT CORTI IN SANCTA SOPHIA 294

VII. COUNT CORTI TO MAHOMMED 312

VIII. OUR LORD'S CREED 324

IX. COUNT CORTI TO MAHOMMED 345

X. SERGIUS TO THE LION . . 349

BOOK VI

CONSTANTINE

I. THE SWORD OF SOLOMON 369

II. MAHOMMED AND COUNT CORTI MAKE A WAGER 386

III. THE BLOODY HARVEST 401

IV. EUROPE ANSWERS THE CRY FOR HELP 417

V. COUNT CORTI RECEIVES A FAVOR 426

VI. MAHOMMED AT THE GATE ST. ROMAIN 439

VII. THE GREAT GUN SPEAKS 452

VIII. MAHOMMED TRIES HIS GUNS AGAIN . . . 463

CHAPTER PAGE

IX. THE MADONNA TO THE RESCUE 479

X. THE NIGHT BEFORE THE ASSAULT 497

XI. COUNT CORTI IN DILEMMA 513

XII. THE ASSAULT 522

XIII. MAHOMMED IN SANCTA SOPHIA 550

BOOK IV

THE PALACE OF BLACHERNE
(Continued)

THE PRINCE OF INDIA

CHAPTER XI

THE PRINCESS HEARS FROM THE WORLD

THE sun shone clear and hot, and the guests in
the garden were glad to rest in the shaded places
of promenade along the brooksides and under the
beeches and soaring pines of the avenues. Far up
the extended hollow there was a basin first to receive
the water from the conduit supposed to tap the aque
duct leading down from the forest of Belgrade. The
noise of the little cataract there was strong enough
to draw a quota of visitors. From the front gate to
the basin, from the basin to the summit of the prom
ontory, the company in lingering groups amused
each other detailing what of fortune good and bad
the year had brought them. The main features of
such meetings are always alike. There were games
by the children, lovers in retired places, and old
people plying each other with reminiscences. The
faculty of enjoyment changes but never expires.

An array of men chosen for the purpose sallied
from the basement of the palace carrying baskets of
bread, fruits in season, and wine of the country
in water-skins. Dispersing themselves through the
garden, they waited on the guests, and made distri
bution without stint or discrimination. The hearti-

ness of their welcome maybe imagined; while the
thoughtful reader will see in the liberality thus char
acterizing her hospitality one of the secrets of the.
Princess' popularity with the poor along the Bos-
phorus. Nor that merely. A little reflection will
lead up to an explanation of her preference for the
Homeric residence by Therapia. The commonalty,
especially the unfortunate amongst them, were a kind
of constituency of hers, and she loved living where
she could most readily communicate with them.

This was the hour she chose to go out and person
ally visit her guests. Descending from the portico,
she led her household attendants into the garden.
She alone appeared unveiled. The happiness of
the many amongst whom she immediately stepped
touched every spring of enjoyment in her being;
her eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy, her spirit
high ; in a word, the beauty so peculiarly hers, and
which no one could look on without consciousness
of its influence, shone with singular enhancement.

News that she was in the garden spread rapidly,
and where she went everyone arose and remained
standing. Now and then, while making acknowl
edgments to groups along the way, she recognized
acquaintances, and for such, whether men or women,
she had a smile, sometimes a word. Upon her pass
ing, they pursued with benisons, " God bless you ! "
"May the Holy Mother keep her!" Not unfre-
quently children ran flinging flowers at her feet,
and mothers knelt and begged her blessing. They
had lively recollection of a sickness or other over
taking by sorrow, and of her boat drawing to the
landing laden with delicacies, and bringing what
was quite as welcome, the charm of her presence,
with words inspiring hope and trust. The vast,

vociferous, premeditated Roman ovation, sonorously
the Triumph, never brought a Consular hero the
satisfaction this Christian woman now derived.

She was aware of the admiration which went
with her, and the sensation was of walking- through
a purer and brighter sunshine. Nor did she affect
to put aside the triumph there certainly was in the
demonstration; but she accounted it the due of
charity — a triumph of good work done for the
pleasure there was in the doing.

At the basin mentioned as the landward terminus
of the garden the progress in that direction stopped.
Thence, after gracious attentions to the women and
children there, the Princess set out for the summit
of the promontory. The road taken was broad and
smooth, and on the left hand lined from bottom to
top with pine trees, some of which are yet standing.

The summit had been a place of interest time out
of mind. From its woody cover, the first inhabi
tants beheld the Argonauts anchor off the town of
Amycus, king of the Bebryces; there the vengeful
Medea practised her incantations; and descending
to acknowledged history, it were long telling the
notable events of the ages landmarked by the hoary
height. When the builder of the palace below threw
his scheme of improvement over the brow of the
hill, he constructed water basins on different levels,
surrounding them with raised walls artistically
sculptured; between the basins he pitched marble
pavilions, looking in the distance like airy domes on
a Cyclopean temple ; then he drew the work together
by a tesselated pavement identical with the floor of
the house of Caesar hard by the Forum in Rome.

Giving little heed to the other guests in occupancy
of the summit, the attendants of the Princess broke

into parties sight seeing; while she called Sergius to
her, and conducted him to a point commanding the
Bosphorus for leagues. A favorite lookout, in fact,
the spot had been provided with a pavement and a
capacious chair cut from a block of the coarse brown
limestone native to the locality. There she took seat,
and the ascent, though all in shade, having been
wearisome, she was glad of the blowing of the fresh
upper air.

From a place in the rear Sergius had witnessed
the progress to the present halt. Every incident
and demonstration had been in his view and hear
ing. The expressions of affection showered upon
the Princess were delightful to him ; they seemed so
spontaneous and genuine. As testimony to her
character in the popular estimate at least, they left
nothing doubtful. His first impression of her was
confirmed. She was a woman to whom Heaven had
confided every grace and virtue. Such marvels had
been before. He had heard of them in tradition, and
always in a strain to lift those thus favored above
the hardened commonplace of human life, creatures
not exactly angels, yet moving in the same atmos
phere with angels. The monasteries, even those into
whose gates women are forbidden to look, all have
stories of womanly excellence which the monks tell
each other in pauses from labor in the lentil patch,
and in their cells after vesper prayers. In brief, so
did Sergius' estimate of the Princess increase that he
was unaware of impropriety when, trudging slowly
after the train of attendants, he associated her with
heroines most odorous in Church and Scriptural
memories ; with Mothers Superior famous for sanc
tity; with Saints, like Theckla and Cecilia; with
the Prophetess who was left by the wayside in the

desert of Zin, and the later seer and singer, she
who had her judgment-seat under the palm tree of
Deborah.

Withal, however, the monk was uncomfortable.
The words of his Hegumen pursued him. Should he
tell the Princess ? Assailed by doubts, he followed
her to the lookout on the edge of the promontory.

Seating herself, she glanced over the wide field
of water below; from the vessels there, she gazed
across to Asia ; then up at the sky, full to its bluest
depth with the glory of day. At length she asked:

" Have you heard from Father Hilarion ? "

"Not yet," Sergius replied.

"I was thinking of him," she continued. "He
used to tell me of the primitive church — the Church
of the Disciples. One of his lessons returns to me.
He seems to be standing where you are. I hear his
voice. I see his countenance. I remember his words :
' The brethren while of one faith, because the creed
was too simple for division, were of two classes, as
they now are and will always be ' — ay, Sergius, as
they will always be! — 'But,' he said, 'it is worthy
remembrance, my dear child, unlike the present
habit, the rich held their riches with the under
standing that the brethren all had shares in them.
The owner was more than owner; he was a trus
tee charged with the safe-keeping of his property,
and with farming it to the best advantage, that he
might be in condition to help the greatest number of
the Christian brotherhood according to their neces
sities.' I wondered greatly at the time, but not now.
The delight I have to-day confirms the Father ; for
it is not in my palace and garden, nor in my gold,
but in the power I derive from them to give respite
from the grind of poverty to so many less fortunate

than myself. 'The divine order was not to desist
from getting- wealth ' — thus the Father continued —
'for Christ knew there were who, labor as they
might, could not accumulate or retain ; circum
stances would be against them, or the genius might
be wanting. Poor without fault, were they to suffer,
and curse God with the curse of the sick, the cold,
the naked, the hungry ? Oh, 110 ! Christ was the
representative of the Infinitely Merciful. Under his
dispensation they were to be partners of the more
favored.' Who can tell, who can begin to measure
the reward there is to me in the laughter of children
at play under the trees by the brooks, and in the
cheer and smiles of women whom I have been able
to draw from the unvarying routine of toil like
theirs ? "

There was a ship with full spread sail speeding
along so close in shore Sergius could have thrown a
stone on its deck. He affected to be deeply inter
ested in it. The ruse did not avail him.

"What is the matter?"

Receiving no reply, she repeated the question.

" My dear friend, you are not old enough in con
cealment to deceive me. You are in trouble. Come
sit here. . . . True, I am not an authorized con
fessor ; yet I know the principle on which the Church
defends the confessional. Let me share your bur
den. Insomuch as you give me, you shall be re
lieved."

It came to him then that he must speak.

"Princess," he began, striving to keep his voice
firm, " you know not what you ask."

" Is it what a woman may hear ? "

A step nearer brought him on the tesselated
square.

"I hesitate, Princess, because a judgment is re
quired of me. Hear, and help me first."

Then he proceeded rapidly:

"There is one just entered holy service. He is a
member of an ancient and honorable Brotherhood,
and by reason of his inexperience, doubtless, its ob
ligations rest the heavier on his conscience. His
superior has declared to him how glad he would be
had he a son like him, and confiding in his loyalty,
he intrusted him with gravest secrets ; amongst oth
ers, that a person well known and greatly beloved
is under watch for the highest of religious crimes.
Pause now, O Princess, and consider the obligations
inseparable from the relation and trust here dis
closed. . . . Look then to this other circum
stance. The person accused condescended to be the
friend and patron of the same neophyte, and by
vouching for him to the head of the Church, put him
on the road to favor and quick promotion. Briefly,
O Princess, to which is obligation first owing ? The
father superior or the patron in danger ? "

The Princess replied calmly, but with feeling : " It
is not a supposition, Sergius."

Though surprised, he returned: "Without it I
could not have your decision first."

" Thou, Sergius, art the distressed neophyte."

He held his hands out to her : " Give me thy judg
ment."

" The Hegumen of the St. James' is the ac
cuser."

"Be just, O Princess! To which is the obligation
first owing ? "

"I am the accused," she continued, in the same
tone.

He would have fallen on his knees.

" No, keep thy feet. A watchman may be behind
me now."

He had scarcely resumed his position before she
asked, still in the quiet searching manner : ' ' What
is the highest religious crime ? Or rather, to men in
authority, like the Hegumen of your Brotherhood,
what is the highest of all crimes ? "

He looked at her in mute supplication.

"I will tell you— HERESY."

Then, compassionating his suffering, she added:
' ' My poor Sergius ! I am not upbraiding you. You
are showing me your soul. I see it in its first serious
trial. ... I will forget that I am the de
nounced, and try to help you. Is there no principle
to which we can refer the matter — no Christian
principle ? The Hegumen claims silence from you ;
on the other side, your conscience — I would like to
say preference — impels you to speak a word of warn
ing for the benefit of your patroness. There, now,
we have both the dispute and the disputants. Is it
not so ? "

Sergius bowed his head.

"Father Hilarion once said to me: 'Daughter,
I give you the ultimate criterion of the divineness
of our religion — there cannot be an instance of hu
man trial for which it does not furnish a rule of
conduct and consolation.' A profound saying truly !
Now is it possible we have here at last an exception ?
I do not seek to know on which side the honors lie.
Where are the humanities ? Ideas of honor are of
men conventional. On the other hand, the human
ities stand for Charity. If thou wert the denounced,
O Sergius, how wouldst thou wish to be done
by?"

Sergius' face brightened.

' l We are not seeking to save a heretic — we are in
search of quiet for our consciences. So why not ask
and answer further: What would befall the Hegu-
men, did you tell the accused all you had from him ?
Would he suffer ? Is there a tribunal to sentence
him ? Or a prison agape for him ? Or torture in
readiness ? Or a King of Lions ? In these respects
how is it with the friend who vouched for you to
the head of the Church ? Alas ! "

"Enough — say no more!" Sergius cried impul
sively. "Say no more. O Princess, I will tell
everything — I will save you, if I can — if not, and
the worst come, I will die with you."

Womanlike the Princess signalized her triumph
with tears. At length she asked: " Wouldst thou
like to know if I am indeed a heretic ? "

" Yes, for what thou art, that am I ; and then " —

"The same fire in the Hippodrome may light us
both out of the world."

There was a ring of prophecy in the words.

" God forbid ! " he ejaculated, with a shiver.

' ' God's will be done, were better ! . . . So, if
it please you," she went on, "tell me all the Hegu-
men told you about me."

" Everything ? " he asked doubtfully.

"Why not?"

"Part of it is too wicked for repetition."

" Yet it was an accusation."

"Yes."

" Sergius, you are no match in cunning for my
enemies. They are Greeks trained to diplomacy;
you are" — she paused and half smiled — "only a
pupil of Hilarion's. See now — if they mean to kill
me, how important to invent a tale which shall rob
me of sympathy, and reconcile the public to my sac-
VOL. ir. — 2

rifice. They who do much good, and no harm "—
she cast a glance at the people swarming around the
pavilions— " always have friends. Such is the law
of kindness, and it never failed but once ; but to-day
a splinter of the Cross is worth a kingdom.1'

" Princess, I will hold nothing back."

"And I, Sergius— God witnessing for me— will
speak to each denunciation thou givest me."

" There were two matters in the Hegumen's mind,"
Sergius began, but struck with the abruptness, he
added apologetically: "I pray you, Princess, re
member I speak at your insistence, and that I am
not in any sense an accuser. It may be well to say
also the Hegumen returned from last night's Mys
tery low in spirits, and much spent bodily, and before
speaking of you, declared he had been an active
partisan of your father's. I do not think him your
personal enemy."

A mist of tears dimmed her eyes while the Prin
cess replied : ' ' He was my father's friend, and I am
grateful to him ; but alas ! that he is naturally kind
and just is now of small consequence."

"It grieves me "-

" Do not stop," she said, interrupting him.

"At the Father's bedside I received his blessing;
•and asked leave to be absent a few days. ' Where ? '
he inquired, and I answered : ' Thou knowest I
regard the Princess Irene as my little mother. I
should like to go. see her.' "

Sergius sought his auditor's face at this, and ob
serving no sign of objection to the familiarity, was
greatly strengthened.

"The Father endeavored to persuade me not to
come, and it was with that purpose he entered upon
the disclosures you ask. . . . ' The life the Prin-

cess leads '—thus he commenced—' and her manners,
are outside the sanctions of society.' "

Here, from resting on her elbow, the listener sat
upright, grasping the massive arm of the chair.

" Shall I proceed, O Princess ? "

"Yes."

"This place is very public" — he glanced at the
people above them.

" I will hear you here."

" At your pleasure. . . . The Hegumen referred
next to your going about publicly unveiled. While
not positively wrong, he condemned the practice as a
pernicious example; besides which there was a defi
ant boldness in it, he said, tending to make you a
subject of discussion and indelicate remark."

The hand 011 the stony arm trembled.

"I fear, O Princess," Sergius continued, with
downcast look, "that my words are giving you
pain."

' ' But they are not yours. Go on. "

" Then the Father came to what was much more
s.erious."

Sergius again hesitated.

" I am listening," she said.

" He termed it your persistence in keeping up the
establishment here at Therapia."

The Princess grew red and white by turns.

"He said the Turk was too near you ; that un
married and unprotected your proper place was in
some house of God on the Islands, or in*the city,
where you could have the benefit of holy offices.
As it was, rumor was free to accuse you of preferring
guilty freedom to marriage."

The breeze fell off that moment, leaving the Prin
cess in the centre of a profound hush ; except for the

unwonted labor of her heart, the leaves overhead
were not more still. The sight of her was too op
pressive — Sergius turned away. Presently he heard
her say, as if to herself: "I am indeed in danger.
If my death were not in meditation, the boldest of
them would not dare think so foul a falsehood. . . .
Sergius," she said.

He turned to her, but she broke off diverted by
another idea. Had this last accusation reference to
the Emperor's dream of making her his wife ? Could
the Emperor have published what took place between
them ? Impossible !

"Sergius, did the Hegumen tell you whence this
calumny had origin ? "

"He laid it to rumor merely."

" Surely he disclosed some ground for it. A dig
nitary of his rank and profession cannot lend him
self to shaming a helpless woman without reason or
excuse."

" Except your residence at Therapia, he gave no
reason."

Here she looked at Sergius, and the pain in the
glance was pitiful. "My friend, is there anything
in your knowledge which might serve such a
rumor ? "

"Yes," he replied, letting his eyes fall.

" What! " and she lifted her head, and opened her
eyes.

He stood silent and evidently suffering.

" Poor* Sergius ! The punishment is yours. I ain
sorry for you — sorry we entered on this subject — but
it is too late to retire from it. Speak bravely. What
is it you know against me ? It cannot be a crime ;
much I doubt if it be a sin ; my walk has been very
strait and altogether in God's view. Speak! "

' ' Princess, " he answered, ' ' coming down from the
landing, I was stopped by a concourse studying a
brass plate nailed to the right-hand pillar of your
gate. It was inscribed, but none of them knew the
import of the inscription. The hamari came up, and
at sight of it fell to saluting, like the abject Eastern
he is. The bystanders chaffered him, and he re
torted, and, amongst other things, said the brass was
a safeguard directed to all Turks, notifying them
that this property, its owner, and inmates were
under protection of the Prince Mahommed. Give
heed now, I pray you, O Princess, to this other thing
of the man's saying. The notice was the Prince
Mahommed's, the inscription his signature, and the
Prince himself fixed the plate on the pillar with his
own hand.1'

Sergius paused.

"Well, "she asked.

"The inferences — consider them."

" State them."

"My tongue refuses. Or if I must, 0 Princess, I
will use the form of accusation others are likely to
have adopted. ' The Princess Irene lives at Therapia
because Prince Mahommed is her lover, and it is a
convenient place of meeting. Therefore his safe
guard on her gate."

"No one could be bold enough to "-

"One has been bold enough."

"One?"

"The Hegumen of my Brotherhood."

The Princess was very pale.

" It is cruel— cruel ! ' ' she exclaimed. ' ' What ought
I to do ? "

' ' Treat the safeguard as a discovery of to-day, and
have it removed while the people are all present."

She looked at him searchingly. On her forehead
between the brows, he beheld a line never there
before. More surprising was the failure of self-reli
ance observable in her request for counsel. Hereto
fore her courage and sufficiency had been remark
able. In all dealings with him she had proved
herself the directress, quick yet decided. The change
astonished him, so little was he acquainted with the
feminine nature; and in reply he spoke hastily,
hardly knowing what he had said. The words were
not straightforward and honest; they were not be
coming him any more than the conduct suggested
was becoming her ; they lingered in his ear, a wicked
sound, and he would have recalled them — but he
hesitated.

Here a voice in fierce malediction was heard up at
the pavilions, together with a prodigious splashing
of water. Laughter, clapping of hands, and other
expressions of delight succeeded.

" Go, Sergius, and see what is taking place," said
the Princess.

Glad of the opportunity to terminate the painful
scene, he hastened to the reservoirs and returned.

"Your presence will restore quiet at once."

The people made way for their hostess with alac
rity. The hamari, it appeared, had just arrived from
the garden. Observing Lael in the midst of the suite
of fair ladies, he advanced to her with many strange
salutations. Alarmed, she would have run away had
not Joqard broken from his master, and leaped with
a roar into the water. The poor beast seemed deter
mined to enjoy the bath. He swam, and dived, and
played antics without number. In vain the show
man, resorting to every known language, coaxed
and threatened by turns— Joqard was self-willed and

happy, and it were hard saying which appreciated
his liberty most, he or the spectators of the scene.

The Princess, for the time conquering her pain
of heart, interceded for the brute; whereupon the
hamari, like a philosopher used to making the best
of surprises, joined in the sport until Joqard grew
tired, and voluntarily returned to control.

CHAPTER XII

LAEL TELLS OF HER TWO FATHERS

WORD passed from the garden to the knots of
people on the height: " Come down quickly. They
are making ready for the boat race." Directly the
reservoirs, the pavilions, and the tesselatioii about
them were deserted.

The Princess Irene, with her suite, made the de
scent to the garden more at leisure, knowing the
regatta would wait for her. So it happened she was
at length in charge of what seemed a rear guard ; but
how it befell that Sergius and Lael drew together,
the very last of that rear guard, is not of such easy
explanation.

Whether by accident or mutual seeking, side by
side the two moved slowly down the hill, one mo
ment in the shade of the kingly pines, then in the
glowing sunshine. The noises of the celebration,
the shouting, singing, calling, and merry outcries
of children ascended to them, and through the ver-
durousness below, lucent as a lake, gleams of color
flashed from scarfs, mantles, embroidered jackets,
and naming petticoats.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself," he said to
Lael, upon their meeting.

"Oh, yes! How could I help it— everything is
delightful. And the Princess— she is so good and

gracious. Oh, if I were a man, I should go mad
with loving her ! "

She spoke with enthusiasm; she even drew her
veil partially aside ; yet Sergius did not respond ; he
was asking himself if it were possible the girl could
be an impostor. Presently he resolved to try her
with questions.

" Tell me of your father. Is he well ? "

At this she raised her veil entirely, and in turn
asked: " Which father do you mean ? "

" Which father," he repeated, stopping.

"Oh, I have the advantage of everybody else! I
have two fathers."

He could do no more than repeat after her: "Two
fathers ! "

"Yes; Uel the merchant is one of them, and the
Prince of India is the other. I suppose you mean
the Prince, since you know him. He accompanied
me to the landing this morning, and seated me in
the boat. He was then well."

There was no concealment here. Yet Sergius saw
the disclosure Avas not complete. He was tempted
to go on.

"Two fathers ! How can such thing be ? "

She met the question with a laugh. "Oh! If it
depended on which of them is the kinder to me, I
could not tell you the real father."

Sergius stood looking at her, much as to say:
" That is no answer; you are playing with me."

"See how we are falling behind," she then said.
" Come, let us go on. I can talk while walking."

They set forward briskly, but it was noticeable
that he moved nearer her, stooping from his great
height to hear further.

" This is the way of it," she continued of her own

prompting1. " Some years ago, my father, Uel, the
merchant, received a letter from an old friend of his
father's, telling him that he was about to return to
Constantinople after a long absence in the East
somewhere, and asking if he, Uel, would assist the
servant who was bearer of the note in buying and
furnishing a house. Uel did so, and when the stran
ger arrived, his home was ready for him. I was
then a little girl, and went one day to see the Prince
of India, his residence being opposite Ucl's on the
other side of the street. He was studying some big
books, but quit them, and. picked me up, and asked
me who I was ? I told him Uel was my father.
What was my name ? Lael, I said. How old was I ?
And when I answered that also, he kissed me, and
cried, and, to my wonder, declared how he had once
a child named Lael ; she looked like me, and was just
my age when she died " —

" Wonderful ! " exclaimed Sergius.

"Yes, and he then said Heaven had sent me to
take her place. Would I be his Lael ? I answered
I would, if Uel consented. He took me in his arms,
carried me across the street and talked so Uel could
not have refused had he wanted to."

The manner of the telling was irresistible. At the
conclusion, she turned to him and said, with emo
tion : ' ' There, now. You see I really have two
fathers, and you know how I came by them; and
were I to recount their goodness to me, and how they
both love me, and how happy each one of them is in
believing me the object of the other's affection, you
would understand just as well how I know no differ
ence between them. "

"It is strange; yet as you tell it, little friend, it
is not strange," he returned, seriously.

'.'I

They were at the instant in a bar of brightest sun
light projected across the road ; and had she asked
him the cause of the frown on his face, he could not
have told her he was thinking of Demedes.

" Yes, I see it— I see it, and congratulate you upon
being so doubly blessed. Tell me next who the
Prince of India is."

She looked now here, now there, he watching her
narrowly.

"Oh! I never thought of asking him about him
self."

She was merely puzzled by an unexpected question.
" But you know something of him ? "
"Let me think," she replied. "Yes, he was the
intimate of my father Uel's father, and of his father
before him."

"Is he so old then?"

"I cannot say how long he has been a family
acquaintance. Of my knowledge he is very learned
in everything. He speaks all the languages I ever
heard of; he passes the nights alone 011 the roof of
his house "-

" Alone on the roof of his house ! "
"Only of clear nights, you understand. A ser
vant carries a chair and table up for him, and a roll
of papers, with pen and ink, and a clock of brass
and gold. The paper is a map of the heavens ; and
he sits there watching the stars, marking them in
position on the map, the clock telling him the exact

time."

"An astronomer," said Sergius.

"And an astrologer," she added; "and besides
these things he is a doctor, but goes only amongst
the poor, taking nothing from them. He is also a
chemist; and he has tables of the plants curative and

deadly, and can extract their qualities, and reduce
them from fluids to solids, and proportionate them.
He is also a master of figures, a science, he always
terms it, the first of creative principles without
which God could not be God. So, too, he is a
traveller— indeed I think he has been over the
known world. You cannot speak of a capital or of
an island, or a tribe which he has not visited. He
• has servants from the farthest East. One of his
attendants is an African King-; and what is the
strangest to me, Sergius, his domestics are all deaf
and dumb."
"Impossible!"

"Nothing appears impossible to him."
" How does he communicate with them ? "
"They catch his meaning from the motion of his
Jips. He says signs are too slow and uncertain for
close explanations."

"Still he must resort to some language."
"Oh, yes, the Greek."

"But if they have somewhat to impart to him ? "
"It is theirs to obey, and pantomime seems suffi
cient to convey the little they have to return to him,
for it is seldom more than, ' My Lord, I have done
the thing you gave me to do.' If the matter be com
plex, he too resorts to the lip-speech, which he could
not teach without first being proficient in it himself.
Thus, for instance, to Nilo " —

' ' The black giant who defended you against the
Greek?"

"Yes — a wroiiderful man — an ally, not a servant.
On the journey to Constantinople, the Prince turned
aside into an African Kingdom called Kash-Cush. I
cannot tell where it is. Nilo was the King, and a
mighty hunter and warrior. His trappings hang in

his room now— shields, spears, knives, bows and
arrows, and among them a net of linen threads.
When he took the field for lions, his favorite game,
the net and a short sword were all he cared for.
His throne room, I have heard my father the Prince
say, was carpeted with skins taken by him in single
combats."

' ' What could he do with the net, little Princess ? "
' ' I will give you his account ; perhaps you can see
it clearly — I cannot. When the monster makes his
leap, the corners of the net are tossed up in the air,
and he is in some way caught and tangled. . . .
Well, as I was saying, Nilo, though deaf and dumb,
of choice left his people and throne to follow the
Prince, he knew not where."

" Oh, little friend! Do you know you are talking
the incredible to me ? Who ever heard of such
thing before ? "

Sergius1 blue eyes were astare with wonder.
"I only speak what I have heard recounted by my
father, the Prince, to my other father, Uel.
What I intended saying was that directly the Prince
established himself at home he began teaching Nilo
to converse. The work was slow at first; but there
is no end to the master's skill and patience ; he and
the King now talk without hindrance. He has even
made him a believer in God."
"A Christian, you mean."

"No. In my father's opinion the mind of a wild
man cannot comprehend modern Christianity; no
body can explain the Trinity; yet a child can be
taught the al mightiness of God, and won to faith in
him."

" Do you speak for yourself or the Prince ?"
"The Prince," she replied.

Sergius was struck with the idea, and wished to
go further with it, but they were at the foot of the
hill, and Lael exclaimed, "The garden is deserted.
We may lose the starting of the race. Let us
hurry."

"Nay, little friend, you forget how narrow my
skirts are. I cannot run. Let us walk fast. Give
me a hand. There now — we will arrive in time."

Near the palace, however, Sergius dropped into
his ordinary gait ; then coming to a halt, he asked :
' ' Tell me to whom else you have related this pretty
tale of the two fathers ? "

His look and tone were exceedingly grave, and
she studied his face, and questioned him in turn,:
"You are very serious — why ? "

"Oh, I was wondering if the story is public?"
More plainly, he was wondering whence Demedes
had his information.

"I suppose it is generally known ; at least I can
not see why it should not be."

The few words swept the last doubt from his mind ;
yet she continued: "My father Uel is well known to
the merchants of the city. I have heard him say
gratefully that since the coming of the Prince of
India his business has greatly increased. He used
to deal in many kinds of goods ; now he sells noth
ing but precious stones. His patrons are not alone
the nobles of Byzantium ; traders over in Galata buy
of him for the western markets, especially Italy and
France. My other father, the Prince, is an expert
in such things, and does not disdain to help Uel with
advice."

Lael might have added that the Prince, in course
of his travels, had ascertained the conveniency of
jewels as a currency familiar and acceptable to

almost every people, and always kept a store of
them by him, from which he frequently replenished
his protege's stock, allowing him the profits. That
she did not make this further disclosure was prob
ably due to ignorance of the circumstances; in other
words, her artlessness was extreme enough to render
• her a dangerous confidant, and both her fathers were
aware of it.

" Everybody in the bazaar is friendly to my father
Uel, and the Prince visits him there, going in state ;
and he and his train are an attraction "—thus Lael
proceeded. "On his departure, the questions about
him are countless, and Uel holds nothing back. In
deed, it is more than likely he has put the whole
mart and city in possession of the history of my
adoption by the Prince."

In front of the palace she broke off abruptly:
"But see! The landing is covered with men and
women. Let us hurry."

Presently they issued from the garden, and were
permitted to join the Princess.

CHAPTER XIII

THE HAMARI TURXS BOATMAN

THE boatmen had taken up some of the marble
blocks of the landing, and planting- long- oars up
right in the ground, and fixing other oars crosswise
on them, constructed a secure frame covered with
fresh sail-cloth. From their vessels they had also
brought material for a dais under the shelter thus
improvised ; another sail for carpet, and a chair on
the dais completed the stand whence the Princess
was to view and judge the race.

A way was opened for her through the throng,
and with her attendants, she passed to the stand;
and as she went, all the women near reached out
their hands and reverently touched the skirt of her
gown — so did their love for her trench on adora
tion.

The shore from the stand to the town, and from
the stand again around the promontory on the south,
was thronged with spectators, while every vantage
point fairly in view was occupied by them; even
the ships were pressed into the service; and some
how the air over and about the bay seemed to give
back and tremble with the eagerness of interest
everywhere discernible.

Between Fanar, the last northern point of lookout
over the Black Sea, and Galata, down on the Golden

Horn, there are about thirty hamlets, villages and
cities specking- the European shore of the Bosphorus.
Each of them has its settlement of fishermen. Aside
from a voluminous net, the prime necessity for suc
cessful pursuit of. the ancient and honorable calling
is a boat. Like most things of use amongst men,
the vessel of preferred model here came of evolution.
The modern tourist may yet see its kind drawn up at
every landing he passes.

Proper handling, inclusive of running out and
hauling in the seine, demanded a skilful crew of at
least five men ; and as whole lives were devoted to
rowing, the proficiency finally attained in it can be
fancied. It was only natural, therefore, that the
thirty communities should each insist upon having
the crew of greatest excellence — the crew which could
outrow any other five on the Bosphorus ; and as every
Byzantine Greek was a passionate gambler, the
wagers were without end. Vauntings of the sort,
like the Black Sea birds of unresting wings, went up
and down the famous waterway.

At long intervals occasions presented for the proof
of these men of pride ; after which, for a period there
was an admitted champion crew, and a consequent
hush of the babble and brawl.

In determining to conclude the fete with a boat-
race open to all Greek comers from the capital to
the Cyanian rocks, the Princess Irene did more than
secure a desirable climax; unconsciously, perhaps,
she hit upon the measure most certain to bring peace
to the thirty villages.

She imposed but two conditions on the competitors
— they should be fishermen and Greeks.

The interval between the announcement of the
race and the day set for it had been filled with boast-

VOL. II. — 3

ing, from which one would have supposed the bay
of Therapia at the hour of starting- would be too con
tracted to hold the adversaries. When the hour
came there were six crews present actually prepared
to contest for the prize — a tall ebony crucifix, with
a gilded image, to be displayed of holidays on the
winning prow. The shrinkage told the usual tale of
courage oozed out. There was of course no end of
explanation.

About three o'clock, the six boats, each with a
crew of five men, were held in front of the Princess'
stand, representative of as many towns. Their
prows were decorated with banderoles large enough
to be easily distinguished at a distance — one yellow,
chosen for Yenimahale ; one blue, for Buyukdere ; one
white, for Therapia; one red, for Stenia; one green,
for Balta-Liman ; and one half white and half scarlet,
for Bebek. The crews were in their seats — fellows
with knotted arms bare to the shoulder ; white shirts
under jackets the color of the flags, trousers in width
like petticoats. The feet were uncovered that, while
the pull was in delivery, they might the better clinch
the cleats across the bottom of the boat.

The fresh black paint with which the vessels had
been smeared from end to end on the outside was
stoned smoothly down until it glistened like varnish.
Inside there was not a superfluity to be seen of the
weight of a feather.

The contestants knew every point of advantage,
and, not less clearly, they were there to win or be
beaten doing their best. They were cool and quiet ;
much more so, indeed, than the respective clansmen
and clans-women.

From these near objects of interest, the Princess
directed a glance over the spreading field of dimpled

water to a galley moored under a wooded point across
on the Asiatic shore. The point is now crowned
with the graceful but neglected Kiosk of the Viceroy
of Egypt. That galley was the thither terminus of
the race course, and the winners turning it, and com
ing back to the place of starting, must row in all
about three miles.

A little to the right of the Princess' stand stood
a pole of height to be seen by the multitude as well
as the rival oarsmen, and a rope for hoisting a
white flag to the top connected it with the chair
on the dais. At the appearance of the flag the
boats were to start; while it was flying, the race
was on.

And now the competitors are in position by lot
from right to left. On bay and shore the shouting
is sunk to a murmur. A moment more — but in that
critical period an interruption occurred.

A yell from a number of voices in sharpest unison
drew attention to the point of land jutting into the
water on the north side not inaptly called the toe of
Therapia, and a boat, turning the point, bore down
with speed toward the sail-covered stand. There
were four rowers in it ; yet its glossy sides and air of
trimness were significant of a seventh competitor
for some reason behind time. The black flag at the
prow and the black uniform of the oarsmen con
firmed the idea. The hand of the Princess was on
the signal rope ; but she paused.

As the boat-hook of the newcomers fell on the edge
of the landing, one of them dropped upon his knees,
crying: "Grace, O Princess! Grace, and a little
time ! "

The four were swarthy men, and, unlike the
Greeks they were seeking to oppose, their swart

was a peculiarity of birth, a racial sign. Recogniz
ing them, the spectators near by shouted: " Gypsies!
Gypsies ! " and the jeer passed from mouth to mouth
far as the bridge over the creek at the corner of the
bay; yet it was not ill-natured. That these unbe
lievers of unknown origin, separatists like the Jews,
could offer serious opposition to the chosen of the
towns was ridiculous. Since they excited no appre
hension, their welcome was general.

"Why the need of grace,? Who are you ?" the
Princess replied, gravely.

" We are from the valley by Buyukdere," the man
returned.

"Are you fishermen?"

' ' Judged by our catches the year through, and
the prices we get in the market, O Princess, it is not
boasting to say our betters cannot be found, though
you search both shores between Fanar and the Isles
of the Princes."

This was too much for the bystanders. The pres
ence they were in was not sufficient to restrain an
outburst of derision.

"But the conditions of the race shut you out.
You are not Greeks," the judge continued.

' ' Nay, Princess, that is according to the ground
of judgment. If it please you to decide by birth and
residence rather than ancestry, then are we to be
preferred over many of the nobles who go in and out
of His Majesty's gates unchallenged. Has not the
sweet water that comes down from the hills seeking
the sea through our meadow furnished drink for
our fathers hundreds of years ? And as it knew
them, it knows us."

" Well answered, I must admit. Now, my friend,
do as wisely with what I ask next, and you shall

have a place. Say you come out winners, what will
you do with the prize ? I have heard you are not
Christians."

The man raised his face the first time.

"Not Christians! Were the charge true, then,
argument being for the hearing, I would say the
matter of religion is not among the conditions. But
•• I am a petitioner, not lawyer, and to my rude think
ing it is better that I hold on as I began. Trust us,
O Princess! There is a plane tree, wondrous old,
and with seven twin trunks, standing before our
tents, and in it there is a hollow which shelters
securely as a house. Attend me now, I pray. If
happily we win, we will convert the tree into a
cathedral, and build an altar in it, and set the prize
above the altar in such style that all who love the
handiworks of nature better than the artfulness
of men may come and worship there reverently
as in the holiest of houses, Sancta Sophia not ex-
cepted."

"I will trust you. With such a promise over
heard by so many of this concourse, to refuse you a
part in the race were a shame to the Immaculate
Mother. But how is it you are but four ? "

"We were five, O Princess; now one is sick.
It was at his bidding we come ; he thought of
the hundreds of oarsmen who would be here
one at least cfluld be induced to share our for
tune."

"You have leave to try them."

The man arose, and looked at the bystanders, but
they turned away.

" A hundred noumiae for two willing hands!" he
shouted.

There was no reply.

' ' If not for the money, then in honor of the noble
lady who has feasted you and your wives and chil
dren."

A voice answered out of the throng: "Here am
I!" and presently the hamari appeared with the
bear behind him.

"Here," be said, "take care of Joqard for me.
I will row in the sick man's place, and " —

The remainder of the sentence was lost in an out
burst of gibing and laughter. Finally the Princess
asked the rowers if they were satisfied with the volun
teer.

They surveyed him doubtfully.

" Art thou an oarsman ? " one of them asked.

"There is not a better on the Bosphorus. And I
will prove it. Here, some of you — take the beast
off my hands. Fear not, friend, Joqard's worst
growl is inoffensive as thunder without lightning.
That's a good man."

And with the words the hamari released the lead
ing strap, sprang into the boat, and without giving
time for protest or remonstrance, threw off his jacket
and sandals, tucked up his shirt-sleeves, and dropped
into the vacant fifth seat. The dexterity with which
he then unshipped the oars and took them in hand
measurably quieted the associates thus audaciously
adopted ; his action was a kind of certificate that the
right man had been sent them.

" Believe in me," he said, in a low tone. " I have
the two qualities which will bring us home winners
— skill and endurance." Then he spoke to the Prin
cess : ' ' Noble lady, have I your consent to make a
proclamation ?"

The manner of the request was singularly deferen
tial. Sergius observed the change, and took a closer

look at him while the Princess was giving the per
mission.

Standing upon the seat, the hamari raised his
voice: " Ho, here— there— every one!" and drawing
a purse from his bosom, he waved it overhead,
with a louder shout, "See!— a hundred noumiae,
and not all copper either. Piece against piece
weighed or counted, I put them in wager! Speak
one or all. Who dares the chance ?"

Takers of the offer not appearing on the shore, he
shook the purse at his competitors.

"If we are not Christians," he said to them, " we
are oarsmen and not afraid. See— I stake this purse
— if you win, it is yours."

They only gaped at him.

He put the purse back slowly, and recounting
the several towns of his opponents by their proper
names in Greek, he cried: " Buyukdere, Therapia,
Stenia, Bebek, Balta-Liman, Yenimahale— your wo
men will sing you low to-night!" Then to the
Princess: "Allow us now to take our place seventh
on the left."

The bystanders were in a maze. Had they been
served with a mess of brag, or was the fellow really
capable ? One thing was clear— the interest in the
race had taken a rise perceptible in the judge's stand
not less than 011 the crowded shore.

The four Gypsies, on their part, were content with
the volunteer. In fact, they were more than satisfied
when he said to them, as their vessel turned into
position :

' ' Now, comrades, be governed by me ; and besides
the prize, if we win, you shall have my purse to
divide amongst you man and man. Is it agreed ? "
And they answered, foreman and all, yes. "Very

well," he returned. "Do you watch, and get the
time and force from me. Now for the signal."

The Princess sent the starting flag to the top of
the pole, and the boats were off together. A great
shout went up from the spectators — a shout of men
mingled with the screams of women to whom a
hurrah or cheer of any kind appears impossible.

To warm the blood, there is nothing after all like
the plaudits of a multitude looking on and mightily
concerned. This was now noticeable. The eyes of all
the rowers enlarged ; their teeth set hard ; the arteries
of the neck swelled ; and even in their tension the
muscles of the arms quivered.

A much better arrangement would have been to
allow the passage of the racers broadside to the
shore; for then the shiftings of position, and the
strategies resorted to would have been plain to
the beholders ; as it was, each foreshortened vessel
soon became to them a black body, with but a man
and one pair of oars in motion ; and sometimes pro-
vokingly indistinguishable, the banderoles blew back
ward squarely in a line with the direction of the
movement. Then the friends on land gave over ex
ercising their throats ; finally drawn down to the
water's edge, and pressing on each other, they
steadied and welded into a mass, like a wall.

Once there was a general shout. Gradually the
boats had lost the formation of the start, and fall
ing in behind each other, assumed an order com
parable to a string. While this change was going
on, a breeze unusually strong blew from the south,
bringing every flag into view at the same time;
when it was perceived that the red was in the lead.
Forthwith the clansmen of Stenia united in a tri
umphant yell, followed immediately, however, by

another yet louder. It was discovered, thanks to the
same breeze, that the black banderole of the Gypsies
was the last of the seven. Then even those who
had been most impressed by the bravado of the
hamari, surrendered themselves to laughter and sar
casm.

"See the infidels ! " " They had better be at home
taking care of their kettles and goats ! " "Turn the
seven twins into a cathedral, will they ? The devil
will turn them into porpoises first ! " " Where is the
hamari now — where ? By St. Michael, the father
of fishermen, he is finding what it is to have more
noumise than brains ! Ha, ha, ha ! "

Nevertheless the coolest of the thirty-five men
then scudding the slippery waterway was the hamari
— he had started the coolest — he was the coolest
now.

For a half mile he allowed his crew to do their
best, and with them he had done his best. The
effort sufficed to carry them to the front, where he
next satisfied himself they could stay, if they had
the endurance. He called to them :

" Well done, comrades ! The prize and the money
are yours! But ease up a little. Let them pass.
We will catch them again at the turn. Keep your
eyes on me."

Insensibly he lessened the dip and reach of his
oars; at last, as the thousands on the Therapian
shore would have had it, the Gypsy racer was the
hinderling of the pack. Afterwards there were but
trifling changes of position until the terminal galley
was reached.

By a rule of the race, the contestants were required
to turn the galley, keeping it on the right; and it
was a great advantage to be a clear first there, since

the fortunate party could then make the round un
hindered and in the least space. The struggle for
the point began quite a quarter of a mile away.
Each crew applied itself to quickening the speed —
every oar dipped deeper, and swept a wider span; —
on a little, and the keepers of the galley could hear
the half groan, half grunt with which the coming
toilers relieved the extra exertion now demanded
of them ; — yet later, they saw them spring to their
feet, reach far back, and finish the long deep draw
by falling, or rather toppling backward to their
seats.

Only the hamari eschewed the resort for the pres
ent. He cast a look forward, and said quickly:
"Attend, comrades!" Thereupon he added weight
to his left delivery, altering the course to an angle
which, if pursued, must widen the circle around the
galley instead of contracting it.

On nearing the goal the rush of the boats grew
fiercer; each foreman, considering it honor lost, if
not a fatal mischance, did he fail to be first at the
turning-point, persisted in driving straight forward
— a madness which the furious yelling of the people
on the marker's deck intensified. This was exactly
what the hamari had foreseen. When the turn
began five of the opposing vessels ran into each
other. The boil and splash of water, breaking of
oars, splintering of boatsides; the infuriate cries,
oaths, and blind striving of the rowers, some intent
on getting through at all hazards, some turned com
batants, striking or parrying with their heavy oaken
blades ; the sound of blows on breaking heads;
plunges into the foaming brine ; blood trickling
down faces and necks, and reddening naked arms
— such was the catastrophe seen in its details from

the overhanging gunwale of the galley. And while
it went on, the worse than confused mass drifted
away from the ship's side, leaving a clear space
through which, with the first shout heard from him
during the race, the hamari urged his crew, and
rounded the goal.

On the far Therapian shore the multitude were
silent. They could dimly see every incident at the
turn— the collision, fighting, and manifold mishaps,
and the confounding of the banderoles. Then the
Stenia colors flashed round the galley, with the black
behind it a close second.

" Is that the hamari's boat next the leader ? "
Thus the Princess, and upon the answer, she
added: "It looks as if the Holy One might find
servants among the irreclaimables in the valley."
Had the Gypsies at last a partisan ?
The two rivals were now clear of the galley. For
a time there was but one cry heard— " Stenia!
Stenia ! " The five oarsmen of that charming town
had been carefully selected; they were vigorous,
skilful, and had a chief well-balanced in judgment.
The race seemed theirs. Suddenly — it was when
the homestretch was about half covered— the black
flag rushed past them.

Then the life went out of the multitude. "St.
Peter is dead ! " they cried—" St. Peter is dead ! It
is nothing to be a Greek now ! " and they hung their
heads, refusing to be comforted.

The Gypsies came in first; and amidst the pro-
foundest silence, they dropped their oars with a
triumphant crash on the marble revetment. The
hamari wiped the sweat from his face, and put on
his jacket and sandals; pausing then to toss his purse

to the foreman, and say : ' ' Take it in welcome, my
friends. I am content with my share of the vic
tory," he stepped ashore. In front of the judge's
stand, he knelt, and said: "Should there be a dis
pute touching the prize, O Princess, be a witness
unto thyself. Thine eyes have seen the going and
the coming ; and if the world belie thee not — some
times it can be too friendly — thou art fair, just and
fearless."

On foot again, his courtierly manner vanished in
a twinkling.

"Joqard, Joqard? Where are you ? "

Some one answered: " Here he is."

" Bring him quickly. For Joqard is an example
to men — he is honest, and tells no lies. He has made
much money, and allowed me to keep it all, and
spend it on myself. Women are jealous of him, but
with reason — he is lovely enough to have been a
love of Solomon's; his teeth are as pearls of great
price; his lips scarlet as a bride's; his voice is the
voice of a nightingale singing to the full moon from
an acacia tree f ronded last night ; in motion, he is
now a running wave, now a blossom on a swaying
branch, now a girl dancing before a king — all the
graces are his. Yes, bring me Joqard, and keep
the world; without him, it is nothing to me."

While speaking, from a jacket pocket he brought
out the fan Lael had thrown him from the portico,
and used it somewhat ostentatiously to cool him
self. The Princess and her attendants laughed
heartily. Sergius, however, watched the man with
a scarcely denned feeling that he had seen him. But
where ? And he was serious because he could not
answer.

Taking the leading strap, when Joqard was brought,

the hamari scrupled not to give the brute a hearty
cuff, whereat the fishermen shook the sails of the
pavilion with laughter ; then, standing Joqard up,
he placed one of the huge paws on his arm, and,
with the mincing step of a lady's page, they dis
appeared.

CHAPTEE XIV

THE PRIHCESS HAS A CREED

"I SHALL ask you, Sergius, to return to the city
to-night, for inquiry about the fete will be lively to
morrow in the holy houses. And if you have the
disposition to defend me " —

" You doubt me, O Princess ? "

"No."

"O little mother, let me once for all be admitted
to your confidence, that in talking to me. there may
never be a question of my loyalty."

This, with what follows, was part of a conver
sation between the Princess IrenS and Sergius of
occurrence the evening of the fete in the court here
tofore described, being that to which she retired to
read the letter of introduction brought her ,by the
young monk from Father Hilarion.

From an apartment adjoining, the voices of her
attendants were occasionally heard blent with the
monotonous tinkle of water overflowing the bowls
of the fountain. In the shadowy depths of the open
ing above the court the stars might have been seen
had not a number of lamps suspended from a silken
cord stretched from wall to wall flooded the marble
enclosure with their nearer light.

There was a color, so to speak, in the declaration
addressed to her— a warmth and earnestness—which
drew a serious look from the Princess— the look, in

a word, with which a woman admits a fear lest the
man speaking to her may be a lover.

To say of her who habitually discouraged bhe ten
der passion, and the thought of it, that she moved
in an atmosphere charged with attractions irresisti
ble to the other sex sounds strangely: yet it was
true ; and as a consequence she had grown miracu
lously quick with respect to appearances.

However, she now dismissed the suspicion, and
replied :

" I believe you, Sergius, I believe you. The Holy
Virgin sees how completely and gladly."

She went on presently, a tremulous light in her
eyes making him think of tears. " You call me lit
tle mother. There are some who might laugh, did
they hear you, yet I agree to the term. It implies
a relation of trust without embarrassment, and a
promise of mutual faithfulness warranting me to call
you in return, Sergius, and sometimes ' dear Ser
gius.' . . . Yes, I think it better that you go
back immediately. The Hegumen will want to
speak to you in the morning about what you have
seen and heard to-day. My boatmen can take you
down, and arrived there, they will stay the night.
My house is always open to them."

After telling her how glad he was for the permis
sion to address her in a style usual in his country,
he moved to depart, but she detained him.

" Stay a moment. To-day I had not time to. deal
as I wished with the charges the Hegumen prefers
against me. You remember I promised to speak to
you about them frankly, and I think it better to do
so now ; for with my confessions always present you
cannot be surprised by misrepresentations, nor can
doubt take hold of you so readily. You shall go

hence possessed of every circumstance essential to
judge how guilty I am."

"They must do more than talk," the monk re
turned, with emphasis.

' ' Beware, Sergius ! Do not provoke them into
argument — or if you must talk, stop when you have
set them to talking. The listener is he who can
best be wise as a serpent. . . . And now, dear
friend, lend me your good sense. Thanks to the
generosity of a kinsman, I am mistress of a resi
dence in the city and this palace; and it is mine to
choose between them. How healthful and charming
life is with surroundings like these — here, the gar
dens ; yonder, the verdurous hills ; and there, before
my door, a channel of the seas always borrowing
from the sky, never deserted by men. Guilt seeks
exclusion, does it not ? Well, whether you come in
the day or the night, my gate is open ; nor have I a
warder other than Lysander ; and his javelin is but
a staff with which to steady his failing steps. There
are no prohibitions shutting me in. Christian, Turk,
Gypsy — the world in fact — is welcome to see what
all I have ; and as to danger, I am defended better
than with guards. I strive diligently to love my
neighbors as I love myself, and they know it. ...
Coming nearer the accusation now. I find here a
freedom which not a religious house in the city can
give me, nor one on the Isles, not Halki itself. Here
I anr never disturbed by sectaries or partisans ; the
Greek and the Latin wrangle before the Emperor
and at the altars ; but they spare me in this beloved
retiracy. Freedom ! Ah, yes, I find it in this re-
treat--this escape from temptations— freedom to
work and sleep, and praise God as seems best to me
— freedom to be myself in defiance of deplorable

social customs — and there is no guilt in it. ...
Coming- still nearer the very charge, hear, O Sergius,
and I will tell you of the brass on my gate, and
why I suffer it to stay there ; since you, with your
partialities, account it a witness against me, it is in
likelihood the foundation of the calumny associat
ing me with the Turk. Let me ask first, did the
Hegumeii mention the name of one such asso
ciate ? "

"No."

The Princess with difficulty repressed her feelings.

* ' Bear with me a moment, " she said ; ' ' you cannot
know the self-mastery I require to thus defend my
self. Can I ever again he confident of my judgment ?
How doubts and fears will beset me when hereafter
upon my own responsibility I choose a course, what
ever the affair! Ah, God, whom I have sought to
make my reliance, seems so far away! It will be
for Him in the great day to declare if my purpose in
living here be not escape from guiltiness in thought,
from wrong arid temptation, from taint to character!
For further security, I keep myself surrounded with
good women, and from the beginning took the pub
lic into confidence, giving it privileges, and inviting
it to a study of my daily life. And this is the out
come! ... I will proceed now. The plate on
the gate is a safeguard " —

' ' Then Mahommed has visited you ? "

The slightest discernible pallor overspread her
face.

' ' Does it surprise you so much ? . . . This is
the way it came about. You remember our stay at
the White Castle, and doubtless you remember the
knight in armor who received us at the landing — a
gallant, fair-speaking, chivalrous person whom we

supposed the Governor, and who prevailed upon us
to become his guests while the storm endured. You
recollect him ? "

" Yes. He impressed me greatly."

"Well, let me now bring up an incident not in
your knowledge. The eunuch in whose care I was
placed for the time with Lael, daughter of the Prince
of India, as my companion, to afford us agreeable
diversion, obtained my consent to introduce an Arab
story-teller of great repute among the tribes of the
desert and other Eastern people. He gave us the
name of the man — Sheik Aboo-Obeidah. The Sheik
proved worthy his fame. So entertaining was he, in
fact, I invited him here, and he came."

" Did I understand you to say the entertainment
took place in Lael's presence ? "

" She was my companion throughout."

" Let us be thankful, little mother."

"Ay, Sergius, and that I have witnesses down to
the last incident. You may have heard how the
Emperor and his court did me the high honor of a
visit in state. "

" The visit was notorious."

"Well, while the royal company were at table,
Lysander appeared and announced Aboo-Obeidah,
and, by permission of the Emperor, the story-teller
was admitted, and remained during the repast.
Now I come to the surprising event — Aboo-Obeidah
was Mahommed ! "

" Prince Mahommed — son of the terrible Amu-
rath?" exclaimed Sergius. "How did you know

"By the brass plate. When he went to his boat,
he stopped and nailed the plate to the pillar. I
went to look at it, and not understanding the

inscription, sent to town for a Turk who enlightened
me."

" Then the hamari was not gasconading ? "

" What did he say ?"

" He confirmed your Turk."

She gazed awhile at the overflowing of the foun
tain, giving a thought perhaps to the masquerader
and his description of himself what time he was
alone with her on the portico ; presently she resumed :

"One word more now, and I dismiss the brass
plate. ... I cannot blind myself, dear friend,
to the condition of my kinsman's empire. It creeps
in closer and closer to the walls of Constantinople.
Presently there will be nothing of it left save the
little the gates of the capital can keep. The peace
we have is by the grace of an unbeliever too old for
another great military enterprise; and when it
breaks, then, O Sergius, yon safeguard may be for
others besides myself — for many others — farmers,
fishermen and townspeople caught in the storm.
Say such anticipation followed you, Sergius — what
would you do with the plate ? "

"What would I do with it? O little mother, I
too should take counsel of my fears."

' ' You approve my keeping it where it is, then ?
Thank you. . . . What remains for explana
tion ? Ah, yes — my heresy. That you shall dis
pose of yourself. Remain here a moment."

She arose, and passing through a doorway heavily
draped with cloth, left him to the entertainment of
the fountain. Returning soon, she placed a roll of
paper in his hand.

" There," she said, " is the creed which your Heg-
umen makes such a sin. It may be heresy; yet,
God helping me, and Christ and the Holy Mother

lending their awful help, I dare die for it. Take it,
dear Sergius. You will find it simple — nine words
in all — and take this cover for it."

He wrapped the parcel in the white silken cover
she gave him, making mental comparison, neverthe
less, with the old Nicsean ordinances.

" Only nine words — 0 little mother! "

" Nine," she returned.

" They should be of gold."

"I leave them to speak for themselves."

" Shall I return the paper ? "

4 'No, it is a copy. . . . But it is time you
were going. Fortunately the night is pleasant and
starlit; and if yoil are tired, the speeding of the boat
will rest you. Let me have an opinion of the creed
at your leisure."

They bade each other good-night.

About eight o'clock next morning Sergius awoke.
He had dropped on his cot undressed, and slept the
sweet sleep of healthful youth; now, glancing
about, he thought of the yesterday and the spacious
garden, of the palace in the garden; of the Princess
Irene, and of the conversation she held with him in
the bright inner court. And the creed of nine
words ! He felt for it, and found it safe. Then his
thought flew to Lael. She had exonerated herself.
Demedes was a liar— Demedes, the presumptuous
knave! He was to have been at the fete, but had
not dared go. There was a limit to his audacity;
and in great thankfulness for the discovery, Sergius
tossed an arm over the edge of the narrow cot, and
struck the stool, his solitary item of furniture. He
raised his head, and looked at the stool, wondering
how it came there so close to his cot. What was

that he saw ? A fan ?— And in his chamber ?
Somebody had brought it in. He examined it
cautiously. Whose was it ? Whose could it be ? —
How|_No— but it was the very fan he had seen
Lael toss to the hamari from the portico ! And the
hamari ?

A bit of folded paper on the settle attracted his
attention. He snatched it up, opened, and read it,
and while he read his brows knit, his eyes opened to
their full.

" PATIENCE— COURAGE— JUDGMENT !

"Thou art better apprised of the meaning of the motto
than thou wert yesterday.

" Thy seat in the Academy is still reserved for thee.
" Thou mayst find the fan of the Princess of India useful ;
with me it is embalmed in sentiment.
" Be wise.

THE HAMARI."

He read the scrap twice, the second time slowly;
then it fell rustling- to the floor, while he clasped his
hands and looked to Heaven. A murmur was all he
could accomplish.

Afterwards, prostrate on the cot, his face to the
wall, he debated with himself, and concluded:

"The Greek is capable of any villany he sets
about— of abduction and murder— and now indeed
must Lael beware ! "

CHAPTER XV

THE PRINCE OF INDIA PREACHES GOD TO THE
GREEKS

WE will now take the liberty of reopening the au
dience chamber of the palace of Blacherne, presuming
the reader holds it in recollection. It is the day when,
by special appointment, the Prince of India appears
before the Emperor Constantiiie to present his idea of
a basis for Universal Religious Union. The hour is
exactly noon.

A report of the Prince's former audience with His
Majesty had awakened general curiosity to see the
stranger and hear his discourse. This was particu
larly the feeling in spiritual circles ; by which term
the most influential makers of public opinion are
meant. A sharp though decorous rivalry for invita
tions to be present on the occasion ensued.

The Emperor, in robes varied but little from those
he wore the day of the Prince's first audience, occu
pied the throne on the dais. On both sides of him the
company sat in a semicircular arrangement which
left them all facing the door of the main entrance,
and permitted the placement of a table in a central
position under every eye.

The appearance of the assemblage would have dis
appointed the reader ; for while the court was numer
ously represented, with every functionary in his
utmost splendor of decoration, it was outnumbered

by the brethren of the Holy Orders, whose gowns,
for the most part of gray and black material unre
lieved by gayety in color, imparted a sombreness to
the scene which the ample light of the chamber could
not entirely dissipate, assisted though it was by refrac
tions in plenitude from heads bald and heads merely
tonsured.

It should be observed now that besides a very strik
ing exterior, the Emperor fancied he discerned in the
Prince of India an idea enriched by an extraordinary
experience. At loss to make him out, impressed, not
unpleasantly, with the mystery the stranger had man
aged, as usual, to leave behind him, His Majesty had
looked forward to this second appearance with inter
est, and turned it over with a view to squeezing out
all of profit there might be in it. Why not, he asked
himself, make use of the opportunity to bring the
chiefs of the religious factions once more together ?
The explosive tendency which it seemed impossible
for them to leave in their cells with their old dal
matics had made it politic to keep them apart widely
and often as circumstances would permit; here, how
ever, he thought the danger might be averted, since
they would attend as auditors from whom speech or
even the asking a question would be out of order
unless by permission. The imperial presence, it was
also judged, would restrain the boldest of them from
resolving himself into a disputant.

The arrangement of the chamber for the audience
had been a knotty problem to our venerable acquaint
ance, the Dean ; but at last he submitted his plan,
giving every invitee a place by ticket; the Emperor,
however, blotted it out mercilessly. "Ah, my old
friend," he said, with a smile which assuaged the
pang of disapproval, "you have loaded yourself with

unnecessary trouble. There was never a mass per
formed with stricter observance of propriety than we
will now have. Fix the chairs thus" — and with a
finger-sweep he described a semicircle — "here the
table for the Prince. Having notified me of his in
tention to read from some ancient books, he must
have a table — and let there be no reserved seat, except
one for the Patriarch. Set a sedilium, high and well
clothed, for him here on my right — and forget not a
stool for his feet ; for now to the bitterness of con
troversy long continued he has added a constriction
of the lungs, and together they are grievous to old
age."

"And Scholarius ? "

' ' Scholarius is an orator ; some say he is a prophet ;
I know he is not an official ; so of the seats vacant
when he arrives, let him choose for himself."

The company began coming early. Every Church
man of prominence in the city was in attendance.
The reception was unusually ceremonious. When
the bustle was over, and His Majesty at ease, the
pages having arranged the folds of his embroidered
vestments, he rested his hand lightly on the golden
cone of the right arm of the throne, and surveyed the
audience with a quiet assurance becoming his birth in
the purple, looking first to the Patriarch, and bowing
to him, and receiving a salute in return. To the
others on the right he glanced next, with a gracious
bend of the head, and then to those on the left. In the
latter quarter he recognized Scholarius, and covertly
smiled ; if Gregory had taken, seat on the left, Schola
rius would certainly have crossed to the right. There
was no such thing as compromise in his intolerant
nature.

One further look the Emperor gave to where,

near the door, a group of women was standing, in
attendance evidently upon the Princess Irene, who
was the only one of them seated. Their heads
were covered by veils which had the appearance
of finely woven silver. This jealous precaution, of
course, cut off recognition ; nevertheless such of the
audience as had the temerity to cast their eyes at the
fair array were consoled by a view of jewelled hands,
bare arms inimitably round and graceful, and figures
in drapery of delicate colors, and of designs to tempt
the imagination without offence to modesty— a re
spect in which the Greek costume has never been
excelled. The Emperor recognized the Princess, and
slightly inclined his head to her. He then spoke to
the Dean :

"Wait on the Prince of India, and if he is pre
pared, accompany him hither."

Passing out a side door, the master of ceremonies
presently reappeared with Nilo in guidance. The
black giant was as usual barbarously magnificent in
attire; and staring at him, the company did not ob
serve the burden he brought in, and laid on the
table. He retired immediately; then they looked,
and saw a heap of books and MSS. in rolls left behind
him— quaint, curious volumes, so to speak, yellow
with age and exposure, and suggestive of strange
countries, and a wisdom new, if not of more than
golden worth. And they continued to gaze and won
der at them, giving warrant to the intelligent fore
thought of the Prince of India which sent Nilo in
advance of his own entry.

Again the door was thrown open, and this time
the Dean ushered the Prince into the chamber, and
conducted him toward the dais. Thrice the foreigner
prostrated himself; the last time within easy speaking

distance of His Majesty, who silently agreed with
the observant lookers-on, that he had never seen the
salutations better executed.

" Eise, Prince of India," the Emperor said, blandly,
and well pleased.

The Prince arose, and stood before him, his eyes
downcast, his hands upon his breast— suppliancy in
excellent pantomime.

' ' Be not surprised, Prince of India, at the assem
blage you behold." Thus His Majesty proceeded.
"Its presence is due, I declare to you, not so much to
design of mine as to the report the city has had of
your former audience, and the theme of which you
then promised to discourse." Without apparently
noticing the low reverence in acknowledgment of the
compliment, he addressed himself to the body of lis
teners. ' ' I regard it courtesy to our noble Indian
guest to advise you, my Lords of the Court, and you,
devotees of Christ and the Father, whose prayers are
now the chief stay of my empire, that he is present
by my appointment. On a previous occasion, he in
terested us— I speak of many of my very honorable
assistants in Government — he interested us, I say,
with an account of his resignation of the Kingship in
his country, moved by a desire to surrender himself
exclusively to study of religion. Under my urgency,
he bravely declared he was neither Jew, Moslem,
Hindoo, Buddhist nor Christian ; that his travels and
investigation had led him to a faith which he summed
up by pronouncing the most holy name of God ; giv
ing us to understand he meant the God to whom our
hearts have long been delivered. He also referred to
the denominations into which believers are divided,
and said his one motive in life was the bringing them
together in united brotherhood ; and as I cannot ima-

gine a result more desirable, provided its basis obtain
the sanction of our conscience, I will now ask him to
proceed, if it be his pleasure, and speak to us freely."

Again the visitor prostrated himself in his best
oriental manner; after which, moving backward, he
went to the table and took a few minutes arranging
the books and rolls. The spectators availed them
selves of the opportunity to gratify their curiosity
well as they could from mere inspection of the man ;
and as the liberty was within his anticipations, it gave
him but slight concern.

We about know how he appeared to them. We
remember his figure, low, slightly stooped, and defi
ciently slender ;— we remember the thin yet healthful
looking face, even rosy of cheek ;— we can see him in
his pointed red slippers, his ample trousers of glossy
white satin, his long black gown, relieved at the col
lar and cuffs with fine laces, his hair fallen on his
shoulders, beard overflowing his breast ;— we can even
see the fingers, transparent, singularly flexible in
operation, turning leaves, running down pages and
smoothing them out, and placing this roll or that
book as convenience required, all so lithe, swift, cer
tain, they in a manner exposed the mind which con
trolled them. At length, the preliminaries finished,
the Prince raised his eyes, and turned them slowly
about— those large, deep, searching eyes— wells from
which, without discoverable effort, he drew magnet
ism at his pleasure.

He began simply, his voice distinct, and cast to
make itself heard, and not more.

"This"— his second finger was on a page of the
large volume heretofore described— "this is the Bible,
the most Holy of Bibles. I call it the rock on which
your faith and mine are castled."

There was a stretching of necks to see, and he did
not allow the sensation to pass.

"And more — it is one of the fifty copies of the
Bible translated by order of the first Constantine,
under supervision of his minister Eusebius, well
known to you for piety and learning-."

It seemed at first every Churchman was on his feet,
but directly the Emperor observed Scholarius and the
Patriarch seated, the latter diligently crossing him
self. The excitement can be readily comprehended
by considering the assemblage and its composition of
zealots and relic- worshippers, and that, while the
tradition respecting the fifty copies was familiar, not
a man there could have truly declared he had ever
seen one of them — so had they disappeared from the
earth.

"These are Bibles, also," the speaker resumed,
upon the restoration of order — "Bibles sacred to
those unto whom they were given as that imperish
able monument to Moses and David is to us ; for they
too are Revelations from God — ay, the very same
God! This is the Koran — and these, the Kings of
the Chinese — and these, the Avesta of the Magians
of Persia — and these, the Sutras well preserved of
Buddha — arid these, the Vedas of the patient Hindoos,
my countrymen."

He carefully designated each book and roll by
placing his finger on it.

' ' I thank Your Majesty for the gracious words of
introduction you were pleased to give me. They set
before my noble and most reverend auditors my
history and the subject of my discourse ; leaving me,
without wrong to their understanding, or waste of
time or words, to invite them to think of the years it
took to fit myself to read these Books— for so I will

term them — years spent among the peoples to whom
they are divine. And when that thought is in
mind, stored there past loss, they will understand
what I mean by Religion, and the methods I adopted
and pursued for its study. Then also the value of
the assertions I make can be intelligently weighed.
This first — Have not all men hands and eyes ?
We may not be able to read the future in our palms ;
but there is no excuse for us if we do not at least see
God in them. Similarity is law, and the law of Nature
is the will of God. Keep the argument with you, O
my Lord, for it is the earliest lesson I had from my
travels. . . . Animals when called to, the caller
being on a height over them, never look for him
above the level of their eyes ; even so some men are
incapable of thinking of the mysteries hidden out of
sight in the sky ; but it is not so with all ; and therein
behold the partiality of God. The reason of the differ
ence between the leaves of trees not of the same
species, is the reason of the inequality of genius
among races of men. The Infinite prefers variety
because He is more certainly to be perceived in it.
At this stop now, my Lord, mark the second lesson of
my travels. God, wishing above all things to mani
fest Himself and His character to all humanity, made
choice amongst the races, selecting those superior in
genius, and intrusted them with special revelations;
whence we have the two kinds of religion, natural
and revealed. Seeing God in a stone, and worship
ping it, is natural religion ; the consciousness of God
in the heart, an excitant of love and gratitude in
expressible except by prayer and hymns of praise-
that, O my Lord, is the work and the proof of re
vealed religion. ... I next submit the third of the
lessons 1 have had; but, if I may have your attention

to the distinction, it is remarkable as derived from my
reading- " — here he covered all the books on the table
with a comprehensive gesture — "my reading more
than my travels ; and I call it the purest wisdom be
cause it is not sentiment, at the same time that it is
without so much as a strain of philosophy, being a
fact clear as any fact deducible from history — yes, my
Lord, clearer, more distinct, more positive, most un
deniable — an incident of the love the Universal Maker
has borne his noblest creatures from their first morn
ing — a Godly incident which I have had from the
study of these Bibles in comparison with each other.
In brief, my Lord, a revelation not intended for me
above the generality of men ; nevertheless a revelation
to me, since I went seeking it— or shall I call it a
recompense for the crown and throne I voluntarily
gave away ? "

The feeling the Prince threw into these words took
hold of his auditors. Not a few of them were struck
with awe, somewhat as if he were a saint or prophet,
or a missionary from the dead returned with secrets
theretofore locked up fast in the grave. They waited
for his next saying — his third lesson, as he termed it
— with anxiety.

"The Holy Father of Light and Life," the speaker
went on, after a pause referable to his consummate
knowledge of men, ' ' has sent His Spirit down to the
world, not once merely, or unto one people, but re
peatedly, in ages sometimes near together, sometimes
wide apart, and to races diverse, yet in every instance
remarkable for genius."

There was a murmur at this, but he gave it no
time.

" Ask you now how I could identify the Spirit so
as to be able to declare to you solemnly, as I do in fear

of God, that in the several repeated appearances of
which I speak it was the very same Spirit ? How do
you know the man you met at set of sun yesterday
was the man you saluted and had salute from this
morning ? Well, I tell you the Father has given the
Spirit features by which it may be known — features
distinct as those of the neighbors nearest you there at
your right and left hands. Wherever in my reading
Holy Books, like these, I hear of a man, himself a
shining example of righteousness, teaching God and
the way to God, by those signs I say to my soul:
'Oh, the Spirit, the Spirit! Blessed is the man ap
pointed to carry it about ! ' '

Again the murmur, but again he passed on.

" The Spirit dwelt in the Holy of Holies set apart
for it in the Tabernacle ; yet 110 man ever saw it there,
a thing of sight. The soul is not to be seen ; still less
is the Spirit of the Most High; or if one did see it,
its brightness would kill him. In great mercy, there
fore, it has always come and done its good works in
the world veiled; now in one form, now in another;
at one time, a voice in the air ; at another, a vision
in sleep ; at another, a burning bush ; at another, an
angel; at another, a descending dove"-

"Bethabara!" shouted a cowled brother, tossing
both hands up.

" Be quiet ! " the Patriarch ordered.

"Thus always when its errand was of quick de
spatch," the Prince continued. "But if its coming
were for residence on earth, then its habit has been
to adopt a man for its outward form, and enter into
him, and speak by him; such was Moses, such Elijah,
such were all the Prophets, and such" — he paused,
then exclaimed shrilly—" such was Jesus Christ! "

In his study at home, the Prince had undoubtedly

thought out his present delivery with the care due an
occasion likely to be a turning-point in his projects,
if not his life ; and it must at that time have required
of him a supreme effort of will to resolve upon this
climax ; as it was, he hesitated, and turned the hue of
ashes; none the less his unknowing auditors renewed
their plaudits. Even the Emperor nodded approv
ingly. None of them divined the cunning of the
speaker; not one thought he was pledging himself
by his applause to a kindly hearing of the next point
in the speech.

" Now, my Lord, he who lives in a close vale shut
in by great mountains, and goes not thence so much
as to the top of one of the mountains, to him the vast-
ness and beauty of the world beyond his pent sky-line
shall be secret in his old age as they were when he
was a child. He has denied himself to them. Like
him is the man who, thinking to know God, spends
his days reading one Holy Book. I care not if it be
this one"" — he laid his finger on the Avesta — "or this
one " — in the same manner he signified the Vedas —
" or this one " — touching the Koran — "or this one "
— laying his whole hand tenderly palm down on the
most Holy Bible. "He shall know God — yes, my
Lord, but not all God has done for men. ... I
have been to the mountain's top ; that is to say, I know
these books, O reverend brethren, as you know the
beads of your rosaries and what each bead stands for.
They did not teach me all there is in the Infinite —
I am in too much awe for such a folly of the tongue
—yet through them I know His Spirit has dwelt on
earth in men of different races and times; and
whether the Spirit was the same Spirit, I fear not
leaving you to judge. If we find in those bearing it
about likenesses in ideas, aims, and methods — a Su-

prerne God and an Evil One, a Heaven and a Hell,
Sin and a Way to Salvation, a Soul immortal
whether lost or saved — what are we to think ? If
then, besides these likenesses, we find the other signs
of divine authority, acknowledged such from the be
ginning of the world — Mysteries of Birth, Sinlessiiess,
Sacrifices, Miracles done — which of you will rise in
his place, and rebuke me for saying there were Sons
of God in Spirit before the Spirit descended upon
Jesus Christ ? Nevertheless, that is what I say."

Here the Prince bent over the table pretending to
be in search of a page in the most Holy Book, while
— if the expression be pardonable — lie watched the
audience with his ears. He heard the rustle as the
men turned to each other in mute inquiry ; he almost
heard their question, though they but looked it ; oth
erwise, if it had been dark, the silence would have
been tomb-like. At length, raising his head, he be
held a tall, gaunt, sallow person, clad in a monkish
gown of the coarsest gray wool, standing and look
ing at him; the eyes seemed two lights burning in
darkened depths ; the air was haughty and menac
ing; and altogether he could not avoid noticing the
man. He waited, but the stranger silently kept his
feet.

" Your Majesty," the Prince began again, perfectly
composed, ' l these are but secondary matters ; yet
there is such light in them with respect to my main
argument, that I think best to make them good by
proofs, lest my reverend brethren dismiss me as an
idler in words. . . . Behold the Bible of the
Bodhisattwa " — he held up a roll of broad-leafed vel
lum, and turned it dexterously for better exhibition
—"and hear, while I read from it, of a Birth, Life
and Death which took place a thousand and twenty-

VOL, II.— 5

seven years before Jesus Christ was born." And he
read:

" ' Strong and calm of purpose as the earth, pure in
mind as the water-lily, her name figuratively assumed,
Maya, she was in truth above comparison. On her
in likeness as the heavenly queen the Spirit descended.
A mother, but free from grief or pain, she was with
out deceit.'" The Prince stopped reading to ask:
" Will not my Lord see in these words a Mary also
' blessed above other women ' ? " Then he read on:
..." 'And now the queen Maya knew her time
for the birth had come. It was the eighth day of the
fourth moon, a serene and agreeable season. While
she thus religiously observed the rules of a pure dis
cipline, Bodhisattwa was bom from her right side,
come to deliver the world, constrained by great pity,
without causing his mother pain or anguish. ' " Again
the Prince lifted his eyes from the roll. "What is
this, my Lord, but an Incarnation ? Hear now of the
Child : . . . ' As one born from recumbent space,
and not through the gates of life, men indeed re
garded his exceeding great glory, yet their sight
remained uninjured; he allowed them to gaze, the
brightness of his person concealed for a time, as when
we look upon the moon in heaven. Jiis body never
theless was effulgent with light, and, like the sun
which eclipses the shining of the lamp, so the true
gold-like beauty of Bodhisattwa shone forth and was
everywhere diffused. Upright and firm, and uncon-
fused in mind, he deliberately took seven steps, the
soles of his feet resting evenly upon the ground as he
went, his footmarks remained bright as seven stars.
Moving like the lion, king of beasts, and looking
earnestly toward the four quarters, penetrating to the
centre the principles of truth, he spoke thus with the

fullest assurance: This birth is in the condition of
Buddha ; after this I have done with renewed birth ;
now only am I born this once, for the purpose of
saving all the world.' " A third time the Prince
stopped, and, throwing up his hand to command at
tention, he asked : ' ' My Lord, who will say this was
not also a Redeemer ? See now what next ensued " — •
and he read on : " ' And now from the midst of
Heaven there descended two streams of pure water,
one warm, the other cold, and baptized his head.'"
Pausing again, the speaker searched the faces of his
auditors on the right and left, while he exclaimed in
magnetic repetition : ' ' Baptism — Baptism — BAPTISM
AND MIRACLE ! "

Coristantine sat, like the rest, his attention fixed;
but the gray-clad monk still standing grimly raised a
crucifix before him as if taking refuge behind it.

' ' My Lord is seeing the likenesses these things bear
to the conception, birth and mission of Jesus Christ,
the later Blessed One, Avho is nevertheless his first in
love. He is comparing the incidents of the two Incar
nations of the Spirit or Holy Ghost ; he is asking him
self : ' Can there have been several Sons of God ? ' and
he is replying : ' That were indeed merciful — Blessed
be God!'"

The Emperor made no sign one way or the other.

" Suffer me to help my Lord yet a little more," the
Prince continued, apparently unobservant of the low
ering face behind the crucifix. ' ' He remembers
angels came down the night of the nativity in the
cave by Bethlehem ; he cannot forget the song they
sung to the shepherds. How like these honors to the
Bodhisattwa ! " — and he read from the roll: . . .
" ' Meanwhile the Devas ' — angels, if my Lord pleases
— ' the Devas in space, seizing their jewelled canopies,

attending, raise in responsive harmony their heavenly
songs to encourage him.' Nor was this all, my Lord,"
and he continued reading: '"On every hand the
world was greatly shaken. ... The minutest
atoms of sandal perfume, and the hidden sweetness
of precious lilies, floated on the air, and rose through
space, and then commingling came back to earth.
... All cruel and malevolent kinds of beings
together conceived a loving heart; all diseases and
afflictions amongst men, without a cure applied, of
themselves were healed; the cries of beasts were
hushed; the stagnant waters of the river courses
flowed apace; no clouds gathered on the heavens,
while angelic music, self-caused, was heard around.
... So when Bodhisattwa was born, he came to
remove the sorrows of all living things. Mara alone
was grieved.' O my reverend brethren!" cried the
Prince, fervently, " who was this Mara that he should
not share in the rejoicing of all nature else ? In
Christian phrase, Satan, and Mara alone was grieved."
" Do the likenesses stop with the births, my breth
ren are now asking. Let us follow the Bodhisattwa.
On reaching the stage of manhood, he also retired
into the wilderness. ' The valley of the Se-xia was
level and full of fruit trees, with no noxious insects,'
say these Scriptures; ' and there he dwelt under a sala
tree. And he fasted nigh to death. The Devas offered
him sweet dew, but he rejected it, and took but a
grain of millet a day.' Now what think you of this as
a parallel incident of his sojourn in the wilderness ? "
And he read :..."' Mara Devaraga, enemy of re
ligion, alone was grieved, and rejoiced not. He had
three daughters, mincingly beautiful, and of a pleas
ant countenance. With them, and all his retinue, he
went to the grove of "fortunate rest," vowing the

world should not find peace, and there ' "—the Prince
forsook the roll—" ' and there he tempted Bodhisattwa,
and menaced him, a legion of devils assisting. ' The
daughters, it is related, were changed to old women,
and of the battle this is written : . . . ' And now
the demon host waxed fiercer, and added force to
force, grasping at stones they could not lift, or lifting
them they could not let them go ; their flying spears
stuck fast in space refusing to descend; the angry
thunder-drops and mighty hail, with them, were
changed into five-colored lotus flowers; while the
foul poison of the dragon snakes was turned intc
spicy-breathing air' — and Mara fled, say the Script
ures, fled gnashing his teeth, while Bodhisattwa re
posed peacefully under a fall of heavenly flowers."
The Prince, looking about him after this, said calm
ly: "Now judge I by my self; not a heart here but
hears in the intervals of its beating, the text : ' Then
was Jesus led up by the Spirit into the wilderness
to be tempted of the devil' — and that other text:
' Then the devil leaveth him, and behold, angels came
and ministered unto him.' Verily, my Lord, was not
the Spirit the same Spirit, and did it not in both in
carnations take care of its own ? "

Thereupon the Prince again sought for a page on
the roll, watching the while with his ears, and the
audience drew long breaths, and rested from their
rigor of attention. Then also the Emperor spoke to
the Prince.

' ' I pray you, Prince of India, take a little rest.
Your labor is of the kind exhaustive to mind and
body: and in thought of it, I ordered refreshments
for you and these, my other guests. Is not this a good
time to renew thyself ? "

The Prince, rising from a low reverence, replied :

" Indeed Your Majesty has the kingly heart; but I
pray you, in return, hear me until I have brought the
parallel, my present point of argument, to an end;
then I will most gladly avail myself of your great
courtesy ; after which — your patience, and the good
will of these reverend fathers, holding on — I will
resume and speedily finish my discourse. "

l'As you will. We are most interested. Or"-
and the Emperor, glancing over toward the monk on
his feet, said coldly : ' ' Or, if my declaration does not
fairly vouch the feeling of all present, those object
ing have permission to retire upon the adjournment.
We will hear you, Prince."

The ascetic answered by lifting his crucifix higher.
Then, having found the page he wanted, the Prince,
holding his finger upon it, proceeded :

" It would not become me, my Lord, to assume an
appearance of teaching you and this audience, most
learned in the Gospels, concerning them, especially
the things said by the Blessed One of the later Incar
nation, whom we call The Christ. We all know the
Spirit for which he was both habitation and tongue,
came down to save the world from sin and hell ; we
also know what he required for the salvation. So,
even so, did Bjdhisattwa. Listen to him now — he is
talking to his Disciples : . . . ' I will teach you,'
he said, to the faithful Anaiida, 'a way of Truth,
called the Mirror of Truth, which, if an elect disciple
possess, he may himself predict of himself, ' ' Hell is
destroyed for me, and rebirth as an animal, or a
ghost, or any place of woe. I am converted. I am
no longer liable to be reborn in a state of suffering,
and am assured of final salvation.1' . . . Ah, Your
Majesty is asking, will the parallel never end ? Not
yet, not yet ! For the Bodhisattwa did miracles as well.

or,

I read again: . . . 'And the Blessed One came
once to the river Ganges, and found it overflowing.
Those with him, designing to cross, began to seek for
boats, some for rafts of wood, while some made rafts
of basket-work. Then the Blessed One, as instan
taneously as a strong man would stretch forth his
arm and draw it back again when he had stretched it
forth, vanished from this side of the river, and stood on
the further bank with the company of his brethren.1'
The stir the quotation gave rise to being quieted,
the Prince, quitting the roll, said: "Like that, my
Lord, was the Bodhisattwa's habit on entering as
semblies of men, to become of their color— he, you
remember, was from birth of the color of gold just
flashed in the crucible— and in a voice like theirs in
structing them. Then, say the Scriptures, they, not
knowing him, would ask, Who may this be that
speaks ? A man or a God ? Then he would vanish
away. Like that again was his purifying the water
which had been stirred up by the wheels of five hun
dred carts passing through it. He was thirsty, and at
his bidding his companion filled a cup, and lo! the
water was clear and delightful. Still more decided,
when he was dying there was a mighty earthquake,
and the thunders of heaven broke forth, and the
spirits stood about to see him until there was no spot,
say the Scriptures, in size even as the pricking of the
point of the tip of a hair not pervaded with them ; and
he saw them, though they were invisible to his dis
ciples; and then when the last reverence of his five
hundred brethren was paid at his feet, the pyre
being ready, it took fire of itself, and there was left of
his body neither soot nor ashes— only the bones for
relics. Then, again, as the pyre had kindled itself, so
when the body was burned up streams of water de-

scended from the skies, and other streams burst from
the earth, and extinguished the fire. Finally, my
Lord, the parallel ends in the modes of death. Bud-
hisattwa chose the time and place for himself, and the
circumstances of his going were in harmony with his
heavenly character. Death was never arrayed in
such beauty. The twin Sala trees, one at the head of
his couch, the other at the foot, though out of season,
sprinkled him with their flowers, and the sky rained
powder of sandal-wood, and trembled softly with the
incessant music and singing of the floating Gan-
dharvis. But he whose soul was the Spirit, last incar
nate, the Christ "—the Prince stopped— the blood for
sook his face— he took hold of the table to keep from
falling — and the audience arose in alarm.

' ' Look to the Prince ! " the Emperor commanded.

Those nearest the ailing man offered him their
arms, but with a mighty effort he spoke to them nat
urally: "Thank you, good friends — it is nothing."
Then he said louder : " It is nothing, my Lord — it is
gone now. I was about to say of the Christ, how
different was his dying, and with that ends the paral
lel between him and the Bodhisattwa as Sons of God.
. . . Now, if it please Your Majesty, I will not
longer detain your guests from the refreshments
awaiting them."

A chair was brought for him ; and when he was
seated, a long line of servants in livery appeared
with the collation.

In a short time the Prince was himself again. The
mention of the Saviour, in connection with his death,
had suddenly projected the scene of the Crucifixion
before him, and the sight of the Cross and the sufferer
upon it had for the moment overcome him.

CHAPTER XVI

HOW THE NEW FAITH WAS RECEIVED

It had been better for the Prince of India if he had
not consented to the intermission graciously sug
gested by the Emperor. The monk with the hollow
eyes who had arisen and posed behind his crucifix,
like an exorcist, was no other than George Schola-
rius, whom, for the sake of historical conformity, we
shall from this call Geimaclius: and far from availing
himself of His Majesty's permission to retire, that
person was observed to pass industriously from chair
to chair circulating some kind of notice. Of the re
freshments he would none; his words were few, his
manner earnest ; and to him, beyond question, it was
due that when order was again called, the pleasure
the Prince drew from seeing every seat occupied was
dashed by the scowling looks which met him from all
sides. The divining faculty, peculiarly sharpened in
him, apprised him instantly of an influence un
friendly to his project — a circumstance the more re
markable since he had not as yet actually stated any
project.

Upon taking the floor, the Prince placed the large
Judean Bible before him opened, and around it his
other references, impressing the audience with an idea
that in his own view the latter were of secondary
importance.

"My Lord, and Reverend Sirs," he began, with a

low salutation to the Emperor, ' ' the fulness of the
parallel I have run between the Bodhisattwa, Son of
Maya, and Jesus Christ, Son of Mary, may lead to a
supposition that they were the only Blessed Ones who
have appeared in the world honored above men be
cause they were chosen for the Incarnation of the
Spirit. In these Scriptures, " unrolling the Sutra or
Book of the Great Decease — "frequent statements
imply a number of Tathagatas or Buddhas of irregu
lar coming. In this "—putting a finger on a Chinese
King— li time is divided into periods termed Kalpas,
and in one place it is said ninety-eight Buddhas
illuminated one Kalpa *"— that is, came and taught
as Saviours. Nor shall any man deny the Spirit
manifest in each of them was the same Spirit. They
preached the same holy doctrine, pointed out the
same road to salvation, lived the same pure un
worldly lives, and all alike made a declaration of
which I shall presently speak; in other words, my
Lord, the features of the Spirit were the same in all
of them. . . . Here in these rolls, parts of the
Sacred Books of the East, we read of Shun. I can
not fix his days, they were so long ago. Indeed, I
only know he must have been an adopted of the
Spirit by his leaving behind him the Tao, or Law,
still observed among the Chinese as their standard of
virtue. . . . Here also is the Avesta, most re
vered remains of the Magi, from whom, as many sup
pose, the Wise Men who came up to Jerusalem wit
nesses of the birth of the new King of the Jews were
sent." This too he identified with his finger. "Its
teacher is Zarathustra, and, in my faith, the Spirit
descended upon him and abode with him while he
was on the earth. The features all showed them-

* EAIUN'S Chinese Buddhism, 14.

selves in him— in his life, his instruction, and in the
honors paid him through succeeding generations.
His religion yet lives, though founded hundreds of
years before your gentle Nazarene walked the waters
of Galilee. . . . And here, O my Lord, is a book
abhorred by Christians "—he laid his whole hand on
the Koran—" How shall it be judged ? By the indif
ferent manner too many of those ready to die defend
ing its divine origin observe it ? Alas ! What religion
shall survive that test ? In the visions of Mahomet
I read of God, Moses, the Patriarchs— nay, my Lord,
I read of him called the Christ. Shall we not be
ware lest in condemning Mahomet wre divest this
other Bible "—he reverently touched the great Euse-
bian volume — "of some of its superior holiness ? He
calls himself a Prophet. Can a man prophesy except
he have in him the light of the Spirit ? "

The question awoke the assemblage. A general
signing of the Cross was indulged in by the Fathers,
and there was groaning hard to distinguish from
growls. Gemiadius kept his seat, nervously playing
with his rosary. The countenance of the Patriarch
was unusually grave. In all his experience it is
doubtful if the Prince ever touched a subject requir
ing more address than this dealing with the Koran.
He resumed without embarrassment :

"Now, my Lord, I shall advance a step nearer my
real subject. Think not, I pray, that the things I have
spoken of the Bodhisattwa, of Shun, of Zarathustra,
of Mahomet, likening them in their entertainment
of the Spirit to Jesus, was to excite comparisons;
such as which was the holiest, which did the most
godly things, which is most worthy to be accounted
the best beloved of the Father ; for I come to bury all
strife of the kind. . . I said I had been to the

mountain's top ; and now, my Lord, did you demand
of me to single out and name the greatest of the
wonders I thence beheld, I should answer: Neither
on the sea, nor on the land, nor in the sky is there a
wonder like unto the perversity which impels men to
invent and go on inventing religions and sects, and
then persecute each other on account of them. And
when I prayed to be shown the reason of it, I thought
I heard a voice, ' Open thine eyes — See ! ' . . . And
the first thing given me to see was that the Blessed
Ones who went about speaking for the Spirit which
possessed them were divine; yet they walked the
earth, not as Gods, but witnesses of God ; asking hear
ing and belief, not worship; begging men to come
unto them as guides sent to show them the only cer
tain way to everlasting life in glory — only that and
nothing more. . . . The next thing I saw, a
bright light in a white glass set on a dark hill, was
the waste of worship men are guilty of in bestowing
it on inferior and often unworthy objects. When
Jesus prayed, it was to our Father in Heaven, was it
not ? — meaning not to himself ,v or anything human,
or anything less than human. . . . One other
thing I was permitted to see ; and the reserving it last
is because it lies nearest the proposal I have come a
great distance to submit to my Lord and these most
reverend brethren in holiness. Every place I have
been in which men are not left to their own imagin
ings of life and religion — in every land and island
touched by revelation— a supreme God is recognized,
the same in qualities— Creator, Protector, Father-
Infinite in Power, Infinite in Love— the Indivisible
One ! Asked you never, my Lord, the object he had
in intrusting his revelation to us, and why the
Blessed Ones, his Sons in the Spirit, were bid come

here and go yonder by stony paths ? Let me answer
with what force is left me. There is in such permis
sions but one intention which a respectful mind can as
sign to a being great and good as God — one altar, one
worship, one prayer, and He the soul of them. With a
flash of his beneficent thought he saw in one religion
peace amongst men. Strange— most strange! In
human history no other such marvel! There has
been nothing so fruitful of bickering, hate, murder
and war. Such is the seeming, and so I thought, my
Lord, until on the mountain's highest peak, whence
all concerns lie in view below, I opened my eyes and
perceived the wrestling of tongues and fighting were
not about God, but about forms, and immaterialities,
more especially the Blessed Ones to whom he had in
trusted his Spirit. From the Ceylonesian: 'Who is
worthy praise but Buddha ? ' 'No,' the Islamite an
swers : ' Who but Mahomet ? ' And from the Parsee ;
< No— Who but Zarathustra ? ' ' Have done with your
vanities, ' the Christian thunders : ' Who has told the
truth like Jesus ? ' Then the flame of swords, and
the cruelty of blows— all in God's name ! "

This was bold speaking.

"And now, my Lord," the Prince went on, his
appearance of exceeding calmness belied only by the
exceeding brightness of his eyes, " God wills an end
to controversy and wars blasphemously waged in his
name, and I am sent to tell you of it; and for that the
Spirit is in me."

Here Gennadius again arose, crucifix in hand.

" I am returned from visiting many of the nations,"
the Prince continued, nothing daunted. " They de
manded of me a faith broad enough for them to stand
upon while holding fast the lesser ideas grown up in
their consciences; and, on my giving them such a

faith, they said they were ready to do the will, bat
raised a new condition. Some one must move first.
' Go find that one, ' they bade me, ' and we will follow
after.' In saying now I am ambassador appointed to
bring the affair to Your Majesty and Your Majesty's
people, enlightened enough to see the will of the
Supreme Master, and of a courage to lead in the
movement, with influence and credit to carry it peace
fully forward to a glorious end, I well know how idle
recommendation and entreaty are except I satisfy you
in the beginning that they have the sanction of
Heaven ; and thereto now. ... I take no honor
to myself as author of the faith presented in answer
to the 'demand of the nations. In old cities there are
houses under houses, along streets underlying streets,
and to find them, the long buried, men dig deep and
laboriously; that did I, until in these old Testaments "
— he cast a loving glance at all the Sacred Books — " I
made a precious discovery. I pray Your Majesty's
patience Avhile I read from them. . . . This from
the Judean Bible : ' And God said unto Moses, I AM
THAT I AM: and he said, This shalt thou say unto
the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.'
Thus did God, of whom we have no doubt, name
himself to one chosen race. . . . Next from a
holy man of China who lived nearly five hundred
years before the Christ was born : ' Although any
one be a bad man, if he fasts and is collected, he may
indeed offer sacrifices unto God.' * ... And
from the A vesta, this of the creed of the Magi : ' The
world is twofold, being the work of Ahura Mazda and
Angra Mainyu : all that is good in the world comes
from the First Principle (which is God) and all that is
bad from the latter (which is Satan). Angra Mainyu

* FABER'S Mindof Mencius.

invaded the world after it was made by Almra Mazda
and polluted it, but the conflict will some day end.' *
The First Principle here is God. But most marvel
lous, because of the comparison it will excite, hearken
to this from the same Magian creed : ' When the
time is full, a son of the lawgiver still unborn, named
Saoshyant, will appear ; then Angra Mainyu (Satan)
and Hell will be destroyed, men will arise from the
dead, and everlasting happiness reign, over the world.'
Here again the Lawgiver is God ; but the Son — who
is he ? Has he come ? Is he gone ? . . . Next,
take these several things from the Vedas : ' By One
Supreme Ruler is the universe pervaded, even every
world in the whole circle of nature. There is One
Supreme Spirit which nothing can shake, more swift
than the thought of man. The Primeval Mover even
divine intelligence cannot reach ; that Spirit, though
unmoved, infinitely transcends others, how rapid so
ever their course ; it is distant from us, yet very near ;
it pervades the whole system of worlds, yet is infinitely
beyond it.' f Now, my Lord, arid very reverend sirs,
do not the words quoted come to us clean of mystery ?
Or have you the shadow of a doubt whom they mean,
accept and consider the prayer I read you now from
the same Vedas : ' O Thou who givest sustenance to
the world, Thou sole mover of all, Thou who restrain-
est sinners,- who pervadest yon great luminary which
appearest as the Son of the Creator ; hide thy strug
gling beams and expand thy spiritual brightness that
I may view thy most auspicious, most glorious, real
form. OM, remember me, divine Spirit ! OM, re
member my deeds! Let my soul return to the im
mortal Spirit of God, and then let my body, which
ends in ashes, return to dust.' Who is OM ? Or is

* Sir William Jones. t Ibid. Vol. XIII.

my Lord yet uncertain, let him heed this from the
Holiest Verse of the Vedas : ' Without hand or foot,
he runs rapidly, and grasps firmly ; without eyes, he
sees ; without ears, he hears all ; he knows whatever
can be known, but there is none who knows him:
Him the wise call the Great, Supreme, Pervading
Spirit.'* . . . Now once more, O my Lord, and
I am done with citation and argument. Ananda
asked the Bodhisattwa what was the Mirror of
Truth, and he had this answer : ' It is the conscious
ness that the elect disciple is in this world possessed
of faith in Buddha, believing the Blessed One to be
the Holy One, the Fully Enlightened One, Wise,
Upright, Happy, World-knowing, Supreme, the bri-
dler of men's wayward hearts, the Teacher of Gods
and men — the Blessed Buddha. ' f Oh, good my Lord,
a child with intellect barely to name the mother
who bore him, should see and say, Here God is de
scribed ! " . . .

The Prince came to a full stop, and taking a fine
silken cloth from a pocket in his gown, he carefully
wiped the open pages of the Eusebiaii Bible, and shut
it. Of the other books he made a separate heap,
first dusting each of them. The assemblage watched
him expectantly. The Fathers had been treated to
strange ideas, matter for thought through many days
and nights ahead ; still each of them felt the applica
tion was wanting. "The purpose — give it us — and
quickly ! " would have been a fair expression of their
impatience. At length he proceeded :

" Dealing with children, my Lord, and reverend
sirs," he began, "it is needful to stop frequently,
and repeat the things we have said ; but you are men

* Sir William Jones. Vol. XIII.
t REHYS DAVID'S Buddhist Sutras.

trained in argument: wherefore, with respect to the
faith asked of me as I have told you by the nations, I
say simply it is God ; and touching his sanction of it,
you may wrest these Testaments from me and make
ashes of them, but you shall not now deny his
approval of the Faith I bring you. It is not in the
divine nature for God to abjure himself. Who of
you can conceive him shrunk to so small a measure ? "

The dogmatic vehemence amazed the listeners.

' ' Whether this idea of God is broad enough to
accommodate all the religions grown up on the earth,
I will not argue ; for I desire to be most respectful " — •
thus the speaker went 011 in his natural manner.
' ' But should you accept it as enough, you need not
be at loss for a form in which to put it. ' Master, '
the lawyer asked, ' which is the great commandment
in the law ? ' And the Master answered : ' Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
all thy soul, and with all thy mind ; ' and he added :
'This is the first and great commandment.' My
Lord, no man else ever invented, nor shall any man
ever invent an expression more perfectly definitive
of the highest human duty — the total of doctrine. I
will not tell you who the master uttering it was;
neither will I urge its adoption; only if the world
were to adopt it, and abide by it, there would be an
end to wars and rumors of war, and God would have
his own. If the Church here in your ancient capital
were first to accept it, what happiness I should have
carrying the glad tidings to the peoples "-

The Prince was not allowed to finish the sen
tence.

"What do I understand, O Prince, by the term
4 total of doctrine ' ? "

It was the Patriarch speaking.

VOL. II. — 6

"Belief in God."

In a moment the assemblage became uproarious,
astounding- the Emperor ; and in the midst of the ex
citement, Gennadius was seen on tip-toe, waving his
crucifix with the energy of command.

" Question — a question! " he cried.

Quiet was presently given him.

" In thy total of doctrine, what is Jesus Christ ? "

The voice of the Patriarch, enfeebled by age and
disease, had been scarcely heard; his rival's pene
trated to the most distant corner ; and the question
happening to be the very thought pervading the
assemblage, the churchmen, the courtiers, and most
of the high officials arose to hear the reply.

In a tone distinct as his interlocutor's, but wholly
without passion, the master actor returned :

"A Son of God."

' ' And Mahomet, the Father of Islam — what is
he?"

If the ascetic had put the name of Siddartha, the
Bodhisattwa, in his second question, his probing had
not been so deep, nor the effect so quick and great ;
but Mahomet, the camel-driver! Centuries of feud,
hate, crimination, and wars — rapine, battles, sieges,
massacres, humiliations, lopping of territory, treaties
broken, desecration of churches, spoliation of altars,
were evoked by the name Mahomet.

We have seen it a peculiarity of the Prince of
India never to forget a relation once formed by him.
Now behind Constantine he beheld young Mahom-
med waiting for him — Mahommed and revenge. If
his scheme were rejected by the Greeks, very well —
going to the Turks would be the old exchange with
which he was familiar, Cross for Crescent. To be
sure there was little time to think this; nor did he

think it — it appeared and went a glare of light — and
he answered :

' ' He will remain, in the Spirit another of the Sons
of God."

Then Gennadi us, beating the air with his crucifix :
' ' Liar — impostor — traitor ! Ambassador of Satan
thou ! Behind thee Hell uncurtained ! Mahomet
himself were more tolerable ! Thou mayst turn black
white, quench water with fire, make ice of the blood
in our hearts, all in a winking or slowly, our reason
resisting, but depose the pure and blessed Saviour, or
double his throne in the invisible kingdom with Ma
homet, prince of liars, man of blood, adulterer, mon
ster for whom Hell had to be enlarged — that shalt
thou never ! A body without a soul, an eye its light
gone out, a tomb rifled of its dead — such the Church
without its Christ! . . . Ho, brethren! Shame
on us that we are guests in common with this fiend in
cunning ! We are not hosts to bid him begone ; yet
we can ourselves begone. Follow me, O lovers of
Christ and the Church ! To your tents, O Israel ! "

The speaker's face was purple with passion; his
voice filled the chamber ; many of the monks broke
from their seats and rushed howling and blindly
eager to get nearer him. The Patriarch sat ashy
white, helplessly crossing himself. Constaiitine ex
cellently and rapidly judging what became him as
Emperor and host, sent four armed officers to protect
the Prince, who held his appointed place apparently
surprised but really interested in the scene — to him
it was an exhibition of unreasoning human nature
replying to an old-fashioned impulse of bigotry.

Hardly were the guards by the table, when Geiina-
dius rushed past going to the door, the schismatics at
his heels in a panic. The pulling and hauling, the

hurry-skurry of the mad exit must be left to the im
agination. It was great enough to frighten thor
oughly the attendants of the Princess Irene. Directly
there remained in the chamber with His Majesty, the
attaches of the court, the Patriarch and his adherents.
Then Coiistantine quietly asked :
"Where is Duke Notaras ? "

There was much looking around, but no response.
The countenance of the monarch was observed to
change, but still mindful, he bade the Dean conduct
the Prince to him.

" Be not alarmed, Prince. My people are quick of
temper, and sometimes they act hastily. If you have
more to say, we are of a mind to hear you to the end."
The Prince could not but admire the composure of
his august host. After a low reverence, he returned:
"Perhaps I tried the reverend Fathers unreason
ably; yet it would be a much greater grief to me if
their impatience extended to Your Majesty. I was
not alarmed; neither have I aught to add to my dis
course, unless it pleases you to ask of anything in it
which may have been left obscure or uncertain."

Constantine signed to the Patriarch and all present
to draw nearer.

" Good Dean, a chair for His Serenity."
In a short time the space in front of the dais was
occupied.

' ' I understand the Prince of India has submitted
to us a proposal looking to a reform of our relig
ion," His Majesty said, to the Patriarch; "and cour
tesy requiring an answer, the violence to which we
have just been subjected, and the spirit of insubor
dination manifested, make it imperative that you
listen to what I now return him, and with attention,
lest a misquotation or false report lead to further

trouble. . . . Prince," he continued, "I think I
comprehend you. The world is sadly divided with
respect to religion, and out of its divisions have pro
ceeded the mischiefs to which you have referred.
Your project is not to be despised. It reminds me of
the song, the sweetest ear ever listened to — ' Peace
and good will toward men.' Its adoption, neverthe
less, is another matter. I have not power to alter the
worship of my empire. Our present Creed was a con
clusion reached by a Council too famous in history
not to be conspicuously within your knowledge.
Every word of it is infinitely sacred. It fixed the
relations between God the Father, Christ the Son,
and men to my satisfaction, and that of my subjects.
Serenity, do thou say if I may apply the remark to
the Church.'1

" Your Majesty," the Patriarch replied, "the Holy
Greek Church can never consent to omit the Lord
Jesus Christ from its worship. You have spoken
well, and it had been better if the brethren had re
mained to hear you."

"Thanks, O most venerated— thanks, " said the
Emperor, inclining his head. "A council having
established the creed of the Church," he resumed, to
the Prince of India, ' ' the creed is above change to
the extent of a letter except by another council sol
emnly and authoritatively convoked. Wherefore, O
Prince, I admit myself wiser of the views you have
presented ; I admit having been greatly entertained
by your eloquence and rhetoric ; and I promise myself
further happiness and profit in drawing upon the
stores of knowledge with which you appear so amply
provided, results doubtless of your study and travel-
yet you have my answer."

The faculty of retiring his thoughts and feelings

deeper in his heart as occasion demanded, was never
of greater service to the Prince than now ; he bowed,
and asked if he had permission to retire ; and receiv
ing it, he made the usual prostrations, and "began
moving backwards.

"A moment, Prince," said Constantiiie. "I hope
your residence is permanently fixed in our capital."

' ' Your Majesty is very gracious, and I thank you.
If I leave the city, it will be to return again, and
speedily."

At the door of the palace the Prince found an escort
waiting for him, and taking his chair, he departed
from Blacherne.

CHAPTER XVII

LAEL A:NTD THE SWORD OF SOLOMON

ALONE in his house, the Prince of India was un
happy, but not, as the reader may hurriedly conclude,
on account of the rejection by the Christians of his
proposal looking to brotherhood in the bonds of re
ligion. He was a trifle sore over the failure, but not
disappointed. A reasonable man, and, what times his
temper left him liberty to think, a philosopher, he
could not hope after the observations he brought from
Mecca to find the followers of the Nazarene more re
laxed in their faith than the adherents of Mahomet.
In short, he had gone to the palace warned of what
would happen.

It was not an easy thing for him to fold up his
grand design preparatory to putting it away forever;
still there was no choice left him ; and now he would
move for vengeance. Away with hesitation.

Descending the heights of Blacherne, he had felt
pity for Constantine who, though severely tried in the
day's affair, had borne himself with dignity through
out ; but it was Mahommed's hour. Welcome Mahom-
med!

Between the two, the Prince's predilections were all
for the Turk, and they had been from the meeting at
the White Castle. Besides personal accomplishments
and military prestige, besides youth, itself a mighty
preponderant, there was the other argument — separat-

ing Mahommed from the strongest power in the world,
there stood only an ancient whose death was a daily
expectation. "What opportunities the young man
will have to offer me ! I have but to make the most
of his ambition — to loan myself to it — to direct it."

Thus the Seer reasoned, returning from Blacherne
to his house.

At the door, however, he made a discovery. There
the first time during the day he thought of her in all
things the image of the Lael whom he had buried
under the great stone in front of the Golden Gate at
Jerusalem. We drop a grain in the ground, and ask
ing nothing of us but to be let alone, it grows, and
flowers, and at length amazes us with fruit. Such
had been the outcome of his adoption of the daughter
of the son of Jahdai.

The Prince called Syama.

"Make ready the chair and table on the roof," he
said.

While waiting, he ate some bread dipped in wine :
then walked the room rubbing his hands as if wash
ing them.

He sighed frequently. Even the servants could see
he was in trouble.

At length he went to the roof. Evening was ap
proaching. On the table were the lamp, the clock,
the customary writing materials, a fresh map of the
heavens, and a perfect diagram of a nativity to be
cast.

He took the map in his hand, and smiled — it was
Lael's work. ' ' How she has improved ! — and how
rapidly ! " he said aloud, ending a retrospect which
began with the hour Uel consented to her becoming
his daughter. She was unlettered then, but how help
ful now. He felt an artist's pride in her growth in

knowledge. There were tedious calculations which
she took off his hands ; his geometrical drawings of
the planets in their Houses were frequently done in
haste ; she perfected them next day. She had num
berless daughterly ways which none but those unused
to them like him would have observed. What de
light she took in watching the sky for the first appear
ance of the stars. In this work she lent him her
young eyes, and there was such enthusiasm in the
exclamations with which she greeted the earliest wink
of splendor from the far-off orbs. And he had ailing
days ; then she would open the great Eusebiaii Script
ures at the page he asked for, and read — sometimes
from Job, sometimes from Isaiah, but generally from
Exodus, for in his view there was never man like
Moses. The contest with Pharaoh — how prodigious !
The battles in magic — what glory in the triumphs
won! The luring the haughty King into the Red
Sea, and bringing him under the walls of water sud
denly let loose ! What majestic vengeance !

Of the idle dreams of aged persons the possibility
of attaching the young to them in sentimental bonds
of strength to insure resistance to every other attach
ment is the idlest. Positive, practical, experienced
though he was, the childless man had permitted this
fantasy to get possession of him. He actually brought
himself to believe Lael's love of him was of that en
during kind. With no impure purpose, yet selfishly,
and to bring her under his influence until of prefer
ence she could devote her life to him, with its riches
of affection, admiration, and dutiful service, he had
surrendered himself to her; therefore the boundless
pains taken by him personally in her education, the sur
rounding her with priceless luxuries which he alone
could afford — in brief, the attempt to fasten himself

upon her youthful fancy as a titled sage and master
of many mysteries. So at length it came to pass,
while he was happy in his affection for her, he was
even happier in her affection for himself ; indeed he
cultivated the latter sentiment and encouraged it in
winding about his being until, in utter unconscious
ness, he belonged to it, and, in repetition of experi
ences common to others, instead of Lael's sacrificing
herself for him, he was ready to sacrifice everything
for her. This was the discovery he made at the door
of his house.

The reader should try to fancy him in the chair by
the table on the roof. Evening has passed into night.
The city gives out no sound, and the stars have the
heavens to themselves. He is lost in thought — or
rather, accepting the poetic fancy of a division of the
heart into chambers, in that apartment of the palpi
tating organ of the Prince of India supposed to be the
abode of the passions, a very noisy parliament was in
full session. The speaker— that is, the Prince him
self —submitted the question : Shall I remain here, or
go to Mahommed ?

Awhile he listened to Eevenge, whose speech in
favor of the latter alternative may be imagined ; and
not often had its appeals been more effective. Am
bition spoke on the same side. It pointed out the
opportunities offered, and dwelt upon them until the
chairman nodded like one both convinced and deter
mined. These had an assistant not exactly a pas
sion but a kinsman collaterally— Love of Mischief—
and when the others ceased, it insisted upon being
heard.

On the other side, Lael led the opposition. She
stood by the president's chair while her opponents
were arguing, her arms round his neck; when they

were most urgent, she would nurse his hand, and
make use of some trifling endearment; upon their
conclusion, she would gaze at him mutely, and with
tears. Not once did she say anything.

In the midst of this debate, Lael herself appeared,
and kissed him on the forehead.

"Thou here ! " he said.

"Why not ? " she asked.

" Nothing — only "-

She did not give him time to finish, but caught
up the map, and seeing it fresh and unmarked, ex
claimed :

"You did so greatly to-day, you ought to rest."

He was surprised.

"Did so greatly ?"

"At the palace."

"Put the paper down. Now, O my Gul-Bahar "-
and he took her hand, and carried it to his cheek, and
pressed it softly there — "deal me no riddle. What
is it you say ? One may do well, yet come out
badly."

"I was at the market in my father Uel's this after
noon," she began, "when Sergius came in."

A face wonderfully like the face of the man he
helped lead out to Golgotha flashed before the Prince,
a briefest passing gleam.

' ' He heard you discourse before the Emperor. How
wickedly that disgusting Gennadius behaved ! "

"Yes," the Prince responded darkly, " a sovereign
beset with such spirits is to be pitied. But what did
the young man think of my proposal to the Em
peror ? "

" But for one verse in the Testament of Christ "-

" Nay, dear, say Jesus of Nazareth."

" Well, of Jesus— but for one verse he could have

accepted your argument of many Sons of God in the
Spirit."

"What is the verse ?"

" It is where a disciple speaks of Jesus as the only
begotten Son."

The Wanderer smiled.

' ' The young man is too literal. He forgets that
the Only Begotten Son may have had many Incarna
tions. "

"The Princess Irene was also present," Lael went
on. "Sergius said she too could accept your argu
ment did you alter it " —

" Alter it! " — A hitter look wrung the Prince's coun
tenance — "Sergius, a monk not yet come to orders,
and Irene, a Princess without a husband. Oh, a small
return for my surrender ! . . . I am tired — very
tired," he said impatiently — " and I have so much, so
much to think of. Come, good night."

" Can I do nothing for you ? "

" Yes, tell Syama to bring me some water."

"And wine?"

" Yes, some wine."

" Very well. Good night."

He drew her to his breast.

' ' Good night. O my Gul-Bahar ! "

She went lightly away, never dreaming of the
parliament to which she left him.

When she was gone, he sat motionless for near an
hour, seeing nothing in the time, although Syama set
water and wine on the table. And it may be ques
tioned if he heard anything, except the fierce debate
going 011 in his heart. Finally he aroused, looked at
the sky, arose, and walked around the table ; and his
expression of face, his actions, were those of a man
who had been treading difficult ground, but was safely

come out of it. Filling a small crystal cup, and hold
ing the red liquor, rich with garnet sparkles, between
his eyes and the lamp, he said :

"It is over. She has won. If there were for me
but the years of one life, the threescore and ten of the
Psalmist, it had been different. The centuries will
bring me a Mahommed gallant as this one, and op
portunities great as he offers ; but never another Lael.
Farewell Ambition ! Farewell Revenge ! The world
may take care of itself. I will turn looker-on, arid be
amused, and sleep. ... To hold her, I will live
for her, but in redoubled state. So will I hurry her
from splendor to splendor, arid so fill her days with
moving incidents, she shall not have leisure to think
of another love. I will be powerful and famous for
her sake. Here in this old centre of civilization there
shall be two themes for constant talk, Constantirie
and myself. Against his rank and patronage, I will
set my wealth. Ay, for her sake ! And I will begin
to-morrow."

The next day he spent in making drawings arid
specifications for a palace. The second day he traversed
the city looking for a building site. The third day he
bought the site most to his fancy. The fourth day
he completed a design for a galley of a hundred oars,
that it might be sea-going far as the Pillars of Her
cules. Nothing ever launched from the imperial docks
should surpass it in magnificence. When he went
sailing on the Bosphorus, Byzantium should assemble
to witness his going, and with equal eagerness wait
the day through to behold him return. And for the
four days, Lael was present and consulted in every
particular. They talked like two children.

The schemes filled him with a delight which would
have been remarkable in a boy. He packed his books

and put away his whole paraphernalia of study —
through Lael1s days he would be an actor in the
social world, not a student.

Of course he recurred frequently to the engagements
with Mahommed. They did not disturb him. The
Turk might clamor — no matter, there was the ever
ready answer about the unready stars. The veteran
intriguer even laughed, thinking how cunningly he
had provided against contingencies. But there was
a present practical requirement begotten of these
schemes — he must have money — soldans by the bag
full.

Very early in the morning of the fifth day, having
studied the weather signs from his housetop, he went
with Nilo to the harbor gate of Blacherne, seeking a
galley suitable for an outing of a few days on the
Marmora. He found one, and by noon she was fitted
out, and with him and Nilo aboard, flying swiftly
around Point Serail.

Under an awning over the rudder-deck, he sat
observing the brown-faced wall of the city, and the
pillars and cornices of the noble structures towering
above it. As the vessel was about passing the Seven
Towers, now a ruin with a most melancholy history,
but in that day a well-garrisoned fortress, he conversed
with the master of the galley.

"I have no business in the strict meaning of the
term," he said, in good humor. "The city has be
come tiresome to me, and I have fancied a run on the
water would be bracing to body and restful to mind.
So keep on down the sea. When I desire a change of
direction, I will tell you." The mariner was retiring.
"Stay," the Prince continued, his attention appar
ently caught by two immense gray rocks rising
bluffly out of the blue rippling in which the Isles of

the Princes seemed afloat — "What are those yonder ?
Islands, of course, but their names ? "

" Oxia and Plati — the one nearest us is Oxia."

' ' Are they inhabited ? "

" Yes and no," the captain replied, smiling-. "Oxia
used to have a convent, but it is abandoned now.
There may be some hermits in the caves on the other
side, but I doubt if the poor wretches have noumias to
keep their altars in candles. It was so hard to coax
visitors into believing God had ever anything- to do
with the dreary place that patrons concluded to give
it over to the bad. Plati is a trifle more cheerful.
Three or four monks keep what used to be the prison
there ; but they are strays from unknown orders, and
live by herding a few starving goats and cultivating
snails for the market."

" Have you been on either of them recently ? "

"Yes, 011 Plati."

"When?"

"Within the year."

"Well, you excite my curiosity. It is incredible
that there can be two such desolations in such close
vicinity to yon famous capital. Turn and row me
around them."

The captain was pleased to gratify his passenger,
and stood by him while the galley encircled Oxia,
telling legends, and pointing out the caves to which
celebrated anchorites had lent their names. He gave
in full the story of Basil and Prusien, who quarrelled,
and fought a duel to the scandal of the Church;
whereupon Constantine VIII., then emperor, exiled
them, the former to Oxia, the latter to Plati, where
their sole consolation the remainder of their lives
was gazing at each other from the mouths of their
respective caverns.

For some reason, Plati, to which he next crossed,
was of more interest to the Prince than its sister isle.
What a cruel exterior the prison at the north end had !
Wolves and bats might live in it, but men— impos
sible ! He drew back horrified when told circumstan
tially of the underground cells.

While yet 011 the eastern side, the passenger said he
would like to go up to the summit.

"There," he exclaimed, pointing to a part of the
bluff which appeared to offer a climb, "put me on
that shelving rock. I think I can go up by it."

The small boat was lowered, and directly he set foot
on the identical spot which received him when, in the
night fifty-six years before, he made the ascent with
the treasures of Hiram King of Tyre.

Almost any other man would have given at least a
thought to that adventure ; the slice out of some lives
would have justified a tear; but he was too intent
thinking about the jewels and the sword of Solomon.

His affected awkwardness in climbing amused the
captain, watching him from the deck, but at last he
gained the top of the bluff.

The plain there was the same field of sickly weeds
and perishing vines, with here and there a shrub,
and yonder a stunted olive tree, covered trunk and
branches with edible snails. If it brought anything
in the market, the crop, singular only to the Western
mind, was plenteous enough to be profitable to its
farmers. There too was the debris of the tower.
With some anxiety he went to the stone which the
reader will probably remember as having to be rolled
away from the mouth of the hiding-place. It had not
been disturbed. These observations taken, he de
scended the bluff, and was received aboard the galley.

A very cautious man was the Prince of India. In

commercial parlance, lie was out to cash a draft on
the Plati branch of his quadruple bank. He was not
down to assist the captain of the galley to partnership
with him in the business. So, after completing the
circuit of Plati, the vessel bore away for Prinkipo and
Halki, which Greek wealth and taste had converted
into dreamful Paradises. There it lay the night and
next day, while the easy-going passenger, out for air
and rest, amused himself making excursions to the
convents and neighboring hills.

The second night, a perfect calm prevailing, he took
the small boat, and went out on the sea drifting, hav
ing provided himself with wine and water, the latter
in a new gurglet bought for the trip. The captain
need not be uneasy if he were late returning, he said
on departing. Nilo was an excellent sailor, and had
muscle and spirit to contend against a blow.

The tranquil environments of Prinkipo were enliv
ened by other parties also drifting. Their singing was
borne far along the starlit sea. Once beyond sight
and hearing, Nilo plied the oars diligently, bringing
up an hour or two after midnight at the shelving
rock under the eastern bluff of Plati. The way to
the ruined tower was then clear.

Precisely as at the first visit when burial was the
object, the concealing stone was pushed aside; after
which the Prince entered the narrow passage crawl
ing on his hands and knees. He was anxious. If
the precious stones had been discovered and carried
away, he would have to extend the voyage to Jaffa
in order to draw from the Jerusalem branch of his
bank. But the sword of Solomon— that was not in
the power of man to duplicate— its loss would be irrep
arable.

The stones were mouldy, the passage dark, the prog-

VOL. II. — 7

ress slow. He had literally to feel every inch in front
of him, using his hands as a caterpillar uses its an
tennae; but he did not complain— the difficulties were
the inducements which led him to choose the hiding-
place in the first instance. At length he went down
a broken step, and, rising to his knees, slipped his
left hand along the face of the wall until his fingers
dropped into a crack between rocks. It was the spot
he sought ; he knew it, and breathed easily. In murky
lamplight, with mallet and chisel — ah, how long ago ! .
— he had worked a shelf there, finishing it with an
oblong pocket in the bottom. To mask the hole was
simple. Three or four easy-fitting blocks were re
moved, and thrusting a hand in, he drew forth the
sheepskin mantle of the elder Nilo.

In spite of the darkness, he could not refrain from
unrolling the mildewed cover. The sword was safe !
He drew the blade and shot it sharply back into the
scabbard, then kissed the ruby handle, thinking again
of the purchasing power there was in the relic which
was yet more than a relic. The leather of the water-
gurglet, stiff as wood, responded to a touch. The
jewels were also safe, the great emerald with the rest.
He touched the bags, counting from one to nine in
clusively. Then remembering the ten times he had
crawled into the passage to put the treasures away,
he began their removal, and kept at it until every
article was safely deposited in the boat.

On the way back to the galley he made new pack
ages, using his mantle as a wrap for the sword, and
the new gurglet for the bags of jewels.

"I have had enough," he exclaimed to the captain,
dropping wearily on the deck about noon. "Take
me to the city." After a moment of reflection, he
added: "Land me after nightfall."

"We will reach the harbor before sundown."

" Oh, well ! There is the Bosphorus — go to Buyuk-
dere, and come back."

" But, my Lord, the captain of the gate may decline
to allow you to pass."

The Prince smiled, and rejoined, with a thought of
the bags in the gurglet thrown carelessly down by
him : ' ' Up with the anchor. "

The sailor's surmise was groundless. Disembarking
about midnight, he whispered his name to the captain
at the gate of Blacherne, and, leaving a soldan in the
official palm, was admitted without examination. On
the street there was nothing curious in an old man
carrying a mantle under his arm, followed by a porter
with a half -filled gurglet on his shoulder. Finally,
the adventure safely accomplished, the Prince of India
was home again, and in excellent humor.

One doubt assailed him — one only. He had just
seen the height of Candilli, an aerial wonder in a
burst of moonlight, and straightway his fancy had
crowned it with a structure Indian in style, and of
material to shine afar delicate as snow against the
black bosomed mountain behind it. He was not a
Greek to fear the Turks. Nay, in Turkish protection
there was for him a guaranty of peaceable ownership
which he could not see under Constaiitine. And as
he was bringing now the wherewith to realize his
latest dream, he gave his imagination a loosened
rein.

He built the house ; he heard the tinkling of foun
tains in its courts, and the echoes in the pillared
recession of its halls; free of care, happy once
more, with Lael he walked in gardens where roses of
Persia exchanged perfumes with roses of Araby, and
the daylong singing of birds extended into noon of

night; yet, after all, to the worn, weary, draughted
heart nothing was so soothing as the fancy which had
been his chief attendant from the gate of Blacherne
—that he heard strangers speaking to each other:
" Have you seen the Palace of Lael ? " "No, where
is it?" "On the crest of Candilli." The Palace of
Lael ! The name confirmed itself sweeter and sweeter
by repetition. And the doubt grew. Should he build
in the city or amidst the grove of Judas trees on the
crest of Candilli ?

Just as he arrived before his door, he glanced cas
ually across the street, and was surprised by observ
ing light in Uel's house. It was very unusual. He
would put the treasure away, and go over and in
quire into the matter. Hardly was he past his own
lintel when Syama met him. The face of the faith
ful servant showed unwonted excitement, and, cast
ing himself at his master's feet, he embraced his
knees, uttering the hoarse unintelligible cries with
which the dumb are wont to make their suffering
known. The Master felt a chill of fear— something
had happened— something terrible— but to whom ?
He pushed the poor man's head back until he caught
the eyes.

"What is it?" he asked.

Syama .arose, took the Prince's hand, and led him
out of the door, across the street, and into Uel's
house. The merchant, at sight of them, rushed for
ward and hid his face in the master's breast, crying :
"She is gone— lost!— The God of our fathers be
with her!"

' ' Who is gone ? Who lost ? "
"Lael, Lael— our child— our Gul-Bahar."
The blood of the elder Jew flew to his heart, leav
ing him pale as a dead man; yet such was his ac-

quired control of himself , he asked steadily: "Gone!
—Where ? "

"We do not know. She has .been snatched from
us — that is all we know."

" Tell me of it— and quickly."

The tone was imperious, and he pushed Uel from
him.

' ' Oh ! my friend — and my father's friend — I will
tell you all. You are powerful, and love her, and
may help where I am helpless." Then by piecemeal
he dealt out the explanation. "This afternoon she
took her chair and went to the wall in front of the
Bucoleon — sunset, and she was not back. I saw
Syama — she was not in your house. He and I set
out in search of her. She was seen on the wall — later
she was seen to descend the steps as if starting home
— she was seen in the garden going about on the
terrace — she was seen coming out of the front gate
of the old palace. We traced her down the street —
then she returned to the garden, through the Hippo
drome, and there she was last seen. I called my
friends in the market to my aid — hundreds are now
looking for her. "

"She went out in her chair, did you say ? "

The steady voice of the Prince was in singular con
trast with his bloodless face.

"Yes."

"Who carried it.?"

" The men we have long had."

" Where are they ?"

" We sought for them— they cannot be found."

The Prince kept his eyes on Uel's face. They were
intensely, fiercely bright. He was not in a rage, but
thinking, if a man can be said to think when his
mind projects itself in a shower. Lael's disappear-

ance was not voluntary ; she was in detention some
where in the city. If the purpose of the abduction
were money, she would be held in scrupulous safety,
and a day or two would bring the demand ; but if —
he did not finish the idea— it overpowered him. Pure
steel in utmost flexion breaks into pieces without
warning; so with this man now. He threw both
hands up, and cried hoarsely : ' ' Lend me, O God, of
thy vengeance ! " and staggering blindly, he would
have fallen but for Syama.

CHz\PTER XVIII

THE FESTIVAL OF FLOWERS

THE Academy of Epicurus was by no means a trifle
spun for vainglory in the fertile fancy of Demedes;
but a fact just as the Brotherhoods of the City were
facts, and much more notorious than many of them.
Wiseacres are generally pessimistic. Academy of
Epicurus indeed ! For once there was a great deal in
a name, ^he class mentioned repeated it siieeringly ;
it spoke to them, and loudly, of some philosophical
wickedness.

Stories of the miraculous growth of the society
were at first amusing; then the announcement of its
housing excited loud laughter ; but when its votaries
attached the high sounding term Temple to their
place of meeting, the clergy and all the devoutly
inclined looked sober. In their view the word sa
vored of outright paganism. Temple of the Acad
emy of Epicurus ! Church had been better — Church
was at least Christian.

At length, in ease of the increasing interest, notice
was authoritatively issued of a Festival of Flowers by
the Academicians, their first public appearance, and
great were the anticipations aroused by the further
advertisement that they would march from their
Temple to the Hippodrome.

The festival took place the afternoon of the third
day of the Prince of India's voyage to Plati. More

particularly, while that distinguished foreigner on
the deck of the galley was quietly sleeping off the
fatigue and wear of body and spirit consequent on
the visit to the desolate island, the philosophers were
on parade with an immense quota of Byzantines of
both sexes in observation. About three thousand
were in the procession, and from head to foot it was a
mass of flowers.

The extravaganza deserved the applause it drew.
Some of its features nevertheless were doubtfully re
garded. Between the sections into which the column
was divided there marched small groups, apparently
officers, clad in gowns and vestments, carrying in
signia and smoking tripods well known to have
belonged to various priesthoods of mythojogic fame.
When the cortege reached the Hippodrome every one
in the galleries was reminded of the glory the first
Constantine gained from his merciless forays upon
those identical properties.

In the next place, the motto of the society — Patience,
Courage, Judgment — was too frequently and ostenta
tiously exhibited not to attract attention. The words,,
it was observed, were not merely on banners lettered
in gold, but illustrated by portable tableaux of ex
quisite appositeness and beauty. They troubled the
wiseacres; for while they might mean a world of
good, they might also stand for several worlds of bad.
Withal, however, the youthfulness of the Academi
cians wrought the profoundest sensation upon the
multitude of spectators. The march was three times
round the interior, affording excellent opportunity to
study the appearances ; and the sober thinking, whom
the rarity and tastef ulness of the display did not hood
wink, when they discovered that much the greater
number participating were beardless lads, shook their

heads while saying to each other, At the rate these
are going what is to become of the Empire ? As if
the decadence were not already in progress, and they,
the croakers, responsible for it !

At the end of the first round, upon the arrival of
the sections in front of the triple-headed bronze ser
pent, one of the wonders of the Hippodrome then as
now, the bearers of the tripods turned out, and set
them down, until at length the impious relic was par
tially veiled in perfumed smoke, as was the wont in
its better Delphian days.

Nothing more shocking to the religionists could
have been invented ; they united in denouncing the
defiant indecency. Hundreds of persons, not all of
them venerable and f rocked, were seen to rise and
depart, shaking the dust from their feet. In course
of the third circuit, the tripods were coolly picked
up and returned to their several places in the pro
cession.

From a seat directly over the course, Sergius beheld
the gay spectacle from its earliest appearance through
the portal of the Blues to its exit by the portal of the
Greens.* His interest, the reader will bear remind
ing, was peculiar. He had been honored by a special
invitation to become a member of the Academy— in
fact, there was a seat in the Temple at the moment
reserved for him. He had the great advantage, more
over, of exact knowledge of the objects of the order.
Godless itself, it had been organized to promote god-

* The Blues and the Greens— two celebrated factions of Constantino
ple. See Gibbon, vii. pp. 79-89.

Four gates, each flanked with towers, gave entrance to the Hippodrome
from the city.' The northwestern was called the gate of the Blues ; the
northeastern of the Greens ; the southeastern gate bore the sullen title,
"Gate of the Dead."— Prof. Edwin A. Grosvenor.

100

lessiiess. He had given much thought to it since
Demedes unfolded the scheme to him, and found it
impossible to believe persons of sound sense could
undertake a sin so elaborate. If for any reason the
State and Church were unmindful of it, Heaven cer
tainly could not be.

Aside from the desire to satisfy himself of tlte
strength of the Academy, Sergius was drawn to the
Hippodrome to learn, if possible, the position Deme
des held in it. His sympathy with the venerable
Hegumen, with whom mourning for the boy astray
was incessant, and sometimes pathetic as the Jewish
king's, gradually became a grief for the prodigal him
self, and he revolved plans for his reformation. What
happiness could he one day lead the son to the father,
and say : ' ' Your prayers and lamentations have been
heard ; see— God's kiss of peace on his forehead ! M

And then in what he had seen of Demedes— what
courage, dash, and audacity— what efficiency— what
store of resources! The last play of his— attending
the fete of the Princess Irene as a bear tender— who
but Demedes would have thought of such a role ?
Who else could have made himself the hero of the
occasion, with none to divide honors with him except
Joqarcl ? And what a bold ready transition from
bear tender to captain in the boat race ! Demedes
writhing in the grip of Nilo over the edge of the wall,
death in the swish of waves beneath, had been an
object of pity tinged with contempt— Demedes winner
of the prize at Therapia was a very different per
son.

This feeling for the Greek, it is to be said next, was
dashed with a lurking dread of him. If he had a
design against Lael, what was there to prevent him
from attempting it? That he had such a design,

101

Sergius could not deny. How afteu ae; repeated tl^
close of the note left on the stool after theT^isnermaiTS
fete. "Thou mayst find the fan of the Princess
of India useful; with me it is embalmed in senti
ment." He shall write with a pen wondrous fine
who makes the difference between love and sentiment
clear. Behind the fete, moreover, there was the con
fession heard on the wall, illustrated by the story of
the plague of crime. Instead of fading out in the
Russian's mind it had become better understood— a
consequence of the brightening process of residence
in the city.

Twice the procession rounded the great curriculum.
Twice Sergius had opportunity to look for the Greek,
but without avail. So were the celebrants literally
clothed in flowers that recognition of individuals was
almost impossible. The first time, he sought him in
the body of each passing section ; the second time, he
scanned the bearers of the standards and symbols ; the
third time, he was successful.

At the head of the parade, six or eight persons were
moving on horseback. It was singular Sergius had
not looked for Demedes amongst them, since the idea
of him would have entitled the Greek to a chief seat
in the Temple and a leading place when in the eye of
the public. As it was, he could not repress an excla
mation on making the discovery.

Like his associates, Demedes was in armor cap-a-
pie. He also carried an unshod lance, a shield on
arm, and a bow and quiver at his back ; but helmet,
breastplate, shield, lance and bow were, masked in
flowers, and only now and then a glint betrayed the
underdress of polished steel. The steed he bestrode
was housed in cloth which dragged the ground ; but
of the color of the cloth or its material not a word

102

caK be said, so sn.tire.ty was it covered with floral em
broidery of diverse hues and figures.

The decoration contributed little of grace to man or
beast; nevertheless its richness was undeniable. To
the spendthrifts in the galleries the effect was inde
scribably attractive. They studied its elaboration,
conjecturing how many gardens along the Bosphorus,
and out in the Isles of the Princes, had been laid under
contribution for the accomplishment of the splendor.
Thus in the saddle, Demedes could not have been ac
cused of diminutiveness ; he appeared tall, even burly ;
indeed, Sergius would never have recognized him had
he not been going with raised visor, and at the in
stant of passing turned his face up, permitting it to
be distinctly seen.

The exclamation wrung from the monk was not
merely because of his finding the man ; in sober truth,
it was an unconventional expression provoked by
finding him in the place he occupied, and a quick
jump to the logical conclusion that the foremost per
son in the march was also the chief priest — if such
were the title — in the Academy.

Thenceforward Sergius beheld little else of the
show than Demedes. He forgot the impiety of the
honors to the bronze serpent. There is no enigma to
us like him who is broadly our antipodes in moral
being, and whether ours is the good or the bad nature
does not affect the saying. His feelings the while
were strangely diverse. The election of the evil gen
ius to the first place in the insidious movement was
well done for the Academy ; there would be no failure
with him in control ; but the poor Hegumen !

And now, the last circuit completed, the head of
the bright array approached the Gate of the Greens.
There the horsemen dro\v out and formed line on the

103

right hand to permit the brethren to march past them.
The afternoon was going rapidly. The shadow of
the building on the west crept more noticeably across
the carefully kept field. Still Sergius retained his
seat watchful of Demedes. He saw him signal the
riders to turn out — he saw the line form, and the sec
tions begin to march past it — then an incident occurred
of no appreciable importance at the moment, but re
plete with signincaiicy a little later.

A man appeared on the cornice above the Gate —
the Gate on the interior having a face resembling a
very tall but shallow portico resting on slender pil
lars — and commenced lowering himself as if he
meant to descend. The danger of the attempt drew
all eyes to him. Demedes looked up, and hastily
rode through the column toward the spot where the
adventurer must alight. The spectators credited the
young chief with a generous intent to be of assistance ;
but agile as a cat, and master of every nerve and
muscle, the man gained one of the pillars and slid to
the ground. The galleries of the Hippodrome found
voice immediately.

While the acrobat hung from the cornice striving
to get hold of the pillar with his feet and legs, Sergius
was wrestling with the question, what could impel a
fellow being to tempt Providence so rashly ? If a
messenger with intelligence for some one in the pro
cession, why not wait for him outside ? In short, the
monk was a trifle vexed ; but doubly observant now,
he saw the man hasten to Demedes, and Demedes
bend low in the saddle to receive a communication
from him. The courier then hurried away through
the Gate, while the chief returned to his place ; but,
instructed probably by some power of divination pro
ceeding from sympathy and often from suspicion,

104

one of the many psychological mysteries about which
we keep promising ourselves a clay of enlightenment,
Sergius observed a change in the latter. He was
restless, impatient, and somewhat too imperative in
hastening the retirement of the brethren. The mes
sage had obviously excited him.

Now Sergius would have freely given the best of his
earthly possessions to have known at that moment
the subject of the communication delivered by a route
so extraordinary ; but leaving him to his conjectures,
there is no reason why the reader should not be more
confidentially treated.

"Sir," the messenger had whispered to Demedes,
"she has left her father s, and is coming this way."

"How is she coming ? "

"In her sedan."

"Who is with her?"

"She is alone."

' ' And her porters ? "

' * The Bulgarians. "

"Thank you. Go now— out by the Gate— to the
keeper of the Imperial Cistern. Tell him to await
me under the wall in the Bucoleon garden with my
chair. He will understand. Come to the Temple to
morrow for your salary."

CHAPTER XIX

THE PRINCE BUILDS CASTLES FOR HIS GUL-
BAHAR

THE words between Demedes and his courier may
have the effect of additionally exciting the reader's
curiosity ; for better understanding, therefore, we will
take the liberty of carrying him from the Hippodrome
to the house of Uel the merchant.

Much has been said about the Prince of India's
affection for Lael; so much indeed that there is
danger of its being thought one sided. A greater
mistake could scarcely be. She returned his love as
became a daughter attentive, tender and obedient.
Without knowing anything of his past life except
as it was indistinctly connected with her family, she
regarded him a hero and a sage whose devotion to
her, multiform and unwearied, was both a delight
and an honor. She was very sympathetic, and in
everything of interest to him responded with interest.
His word in request or direction was law to her.
Such in brief was the charming mutuality between
them.

The night before he started for Plati, Lael sat with
him on the roof. He was happy of his resolution to
stay with her. The moonlight was ample for them.
Looking up into his face, her chin in a palm, an
elbow on his knee, she listened while he talked of

106

his plans, and was the more interested because he
made her understand she was the inspiration of them
all.

u The time for my return home is up," he said, for
getting to specify where the home was, ' ' and I should
have been off before this but for my little girl— my
Gul-Bahar "—and he patted her head fondly. "I
cannot go and leave her ; neither can I take her with
me, for what would then become of father Uel ?
When she was a child it might not have been so hard
for me to lose sight of her, but now — ah, have I not
seen you grow day by day taller, stronger, wiser,
fairer of person, sweeter of soul, until you are all I
fancied you would be — until you are my ideal of a
young woman of our dear old Israel, the loveliness
of Judah in your eyes and on your cheek, and of a
spirit to sit in the presence of the Lord like one in
vited and welcome ? Oh, I am very happy ! "

He kept silence awhile, indulging in retrospect. If
she could have followed him ! Better probably that
she could not.

" It is a day of ease to me, dear, and I cannot see
any unlawfulness in extending the day into months,
or a year, or years indefinitely, and in making the
most of it. Can you ? " he asked, smiling at her.

" I am but a handmaiden, and my master's eyes are
mine," she replied.

' ' That was well said— ever so well said, " he returned.
"The words would have become Euth speaking to her
lord who was of the kindred of Elimelech. . . . Yes,
I will stay with my Gul-Bahar, my most precious
one. I am resolved. She loves me now, but can I
not make her love me still more — Oh, doubt not,
doubt not! Her happiness shall be the measure of
her love for me. That is the right way, is it not ? "

107

" My father is never wrong," Lael answered, laugh
ing.

"Flatterer!" he exclaimed, pressing her cheeks
between his hands. ..." Oh, I have it marked
out already ! In the dry lands of my country, I have
seen a farmer, wanting to lead water to a perishing
field, go digging along the ground, while the stream
bubbled and leaped behind him, tame and glad as a
petted lamb. My heart is the field to be watered —
your love, O my pretty, pretty Gul -Bahar, is the re
freshing stream, and I will lead it after me — never
fear ! . . . Listen, and I will tell you how I will
lead it. I will make you a Princess. These Greeks
are a proud race, but they shall bow to you ; for we
will live amongst them, and you shall have things
richer than their richest — trinkets of gold and jewels,
a palace, and a train of women equal to that of the
Queen who went visiting Solomon. They praise
themselves when they look at their buildings, but I
tell you they know nothing of the art which turns
dreams into stones. The crags and stones have
helped them to their models. I will teach them
better — to look higher — to find vastness wiih grace
and color in the sky. The dome of Sancta Sophia —
what is it in comparison with the Hindoo master
pieces copied from the domes of God on the low-lying
clouds in the distance opposite the sun ? "

Then he told her of his palace in detail — of the
fronts, no two of them alike — the pillars, those of red
granite, those of porphyry, and the others of marble —
windows which could not be glutted with light — arches
such as the Western Kaliphs transplanted from Damas
cus and Bagdad, in form first seen in a print of the
hoof of Borak. Then he described the interior, courts,
halls, passages, fountains : and when he had thus set

108

the structure before her, he said, softly smoothing her
hair:

"There now — you have it all — and verily, as
Hiram, King of Tyre, helped Solomon in his build
ing, he shall help me also."

"How can he help you ?" she asked, shaking her
finger at him. "He has been dead this thousand
years, and more."

"Yes, dear, to everybody but me," he answered,
lightly, and asked in turn: "How do you like the
palace ? "

" It will be wonderful ! "

"I have named it. Would you like to hear the
name ? "

" It is something pretty, I know."
" The Palace of Lael."

Her cry of delighted surprise, given with clasped
hands and wide-open eyes, would have been tenfold
payment were he putting her in possession of the
finished house.

The sensation over, he told her of his design for a
galley.

"We know how tiresome the town becomes. In
winter, it is cheerless and damp ; in summer, it is hot,
dusty and in every way trying. Weariness will in
vade our palace — yes, dear, though we hide from it
in the shady heart of our Hall of Fountains. We
can provide against everything but the craving for
change. Not being birds to fly, and unable to compel
the eagles to lend us their wings, the best resort is a
galley; then the sea is ours— the sea, wide, mysteri
ous, crowded with marvels. I am never so near
the stars as there. When a wave is bearing me up,
they seem descending to meet me. Times have been
when I thought the Pleiades were about to drop into

109

my palm. . . . Here is my galley. You see,
child, the palace is to be yours, the galley mine."

Thereupon he described a trireme of a hundred and
twenty oars, sixty on a side, and ended, saying:
"Yes, the peerless ship will be mine, but every morn
ing it shall be yours to say Take it here or there, until
we have seen every city by the sea; and there are
enough of them, I promise, to keep us going and
going forever were it not that the weariness which
drove us from our palace will afterwhile drive us
back to it. How think you I have named my gal
ley?"

"Lael," she answered.

"No, try again."

' ' The world is too full of names for me. Tell
me."

" Gul-Bahar," he returned.

Again she clasped her hands, and gave the little
cry in his ears so pleasant.

Certainly the Prince was pleading with effect, and
laying up happiness in great store to cheer him
through unnumbered sterile years inevitably before
him after time had resolved this Lael into a faint and
fading memory, like the other Lael gone to dust
under the stone at Jerusalem.

The first half of the night was nearly spent when
he arose to conduct her across the street to Uel's
house. The last words at the head of the steps were
these: "Now, dear, to-morrow I must go a journey
on business which will keep me three days and nights
— possibly three weeks. Tell father Uel what I say.
Tell him also that I have ordered you to stay in
doors while I am absent, unless he can accompany
you. Do you hear me ? "

" Three weeks !" she cried, protestingly. "Oh, it

110

will be so lonesome! Why may I not go with
Syama ? "

" Syama would be a wisp of straw in the hands of
a ruffian. He could not even call for help."
"Then why not with Nilo ? "
" Nilo is to attend me."

" Oh, I see," she said, with a merry laugh. "It is
the Greek, the Greek, my persecutor! Why, he has
not recovered from his fright yet; he has deserted
me."

He answered gravely: "Do you remember a bear
tender, one of the amusements at the fisherman's
fete ? "

"Oh, yes."
"He was the Greek."
" He! " she cried, astonished.

"Yes. I have it from Sergius the monk; and
further, my child, he was there in pursuit of you."
" Oh, the monster ! I threw him my fan ! "
The Prince knew by the tremulous voice she was
wounded, and hastened to say : " It was nothing. He
deceived everybody but Sergius. I spoke of the
pestilent fellow because you wanted a reason for my
keeping you close at home. Perhaps I exacted too
much of you. If I only knew certainly how long I
shall be detained! The three weeks will be hard—
and it may be Uel cannot go with you— his business
is confining. So if you do venture out, take your
sedan— everybody knows to whom it belongs— and
the old Bulgarian porters. I have paid them enough
to be faithful to us. Are you listening, child ? "
" Yes, yes— and I am so glad ! "
He walked down the stairs half repenting the with
drawal of his prohibition.

" Be it so," he said, crossing the street. "The con-

Ill

finement might be hurtful. Only go seldom as you
can ; then be sure you return before sunset, and that
you take and keep the most public streets. That is
all now."

"You are so good to me!" she said, putting her

arm round his neck, and kissing him. "I will try

and stay in the house. Come back early. Farewell."

Next day about noon the Prince of India took the

galley, and set out for Plati.

The day succeeding his departure was long with
Lael. She occupied herself with her governess, how
ever, and did a number of little tasks such as women
always have in reserve for a more convenient sea
son.

The second day was much more tedious. The fore
noon was her usual time for recitations to the Prince ;
she also read with him then, and practised talking
some of the many languages of which he was master.
That part of the day she accordingly whiled through
struggling with her books.

She was earnest in the attempt at study ; but natu
rally, the circumstances considered, she dropped into
thinking of the palace and galley. What a delight
ful glorious existence they prefigured! And it was
not a dream! Her father, the Prince of India, as
she proudly and affectionately called him, did not
deal in idle promises, but did what he said. And
besides being a master of design in many branches
of art, he had an amazing faculty of describing the
things he designed. That is saying he had the mind's
eye to see his conceptions precisely as they would
appear in finished state. So in talking his subjects
always seemed before him for portraiture. One can
readily perceive the capacity he must have had for
making the unreal appear real to a listener, and

112

also how lie could lead Lael, her hand in his, through
a house more princely than anything of the kind in
Constantinople, and on board a ship such as never
sailed unless on a painted ocean — a house like the
Taj Mahal, a vessel like that which burned on the
Cydnus. She decided what notable city by the sea
she wanted most to look at next, and in naming them
over, smiled at her own indecision.

The giving herself to such fancies was exactly
what the Prince intended ; only he was to be the cen
tral figure throughout. Whether in the palace or on
the ship, she was to think of him alone, and always
as the author of the splendor and the happiness. Of
almost any other person we would speak compassion
ately ; but he had lived long enough to know better
than dream so childishly — long enough at least to
know there is a law for everything except the vaga
ries of a girl scarcely sixteen.

After all, however, if his scheme was purely selfish,
perhaps it may be pleasing to the philosophers who in
sist that relations cannot exist without carrying along
with them their own balance of compensations, to
hear how Lael filled the regal prospect set before her
with visions in which Sergius, young, fair, tall and
beautiful, was the hero, and the Prince only a pater
nal contributor. If the latter led her by the hand
here and there, Sergius went with them so close be
hind she could hear his feet along the marble, and
in the voyages she took, he was always a passenger.

The trial of the third day proved too much for the
prisoner. The weather was delightfully clear and
warm, and in the afternoon she fell to thinking of
the promenade on the wall by the Bucoleon, and of
the waftures over the Sea from the Asian Olympus.
They were sweet in her remembrance, and the long-

113

ing for them was stronger of a hope the presence
of which she scarcely admitted to herself— a hope of
meeting Sergius. She wanted to ask him if the bear-
tender at the fete could have been the Greek. Often
as she thought of that odious creature with her fan,
she blushed, and feared Sergius might seriously mis
understand her.

About three o'clock she ordered her chair brought
to father Uel's door at exactly four, having first duti
fully run over the conditions the Prince had imposed
upon her. Uel was too busy to be her escort. Syama,
if he went, would be no protection; but she would
return early. To be certain, she macje a calculation.
It would take about half an hour to get to the wall ;
the sun would set soon after seven ; by starting home
at six she could have fully an hour and a half for the
airing, which meant a possible hour and a half with
Sergius.

At four o'clock the sedan was set down before the
merchant's house, and, for a reason presently appar
ent, the reader to whom vehicles of the kind are
unfamiliar is advised to acquaint himself somewhat
thoroughly with them. In idea, as heretofore ob
served, this one was a box constructed with a seat
for a single passenger ; a door in front allowed exit
and entrance ; besides the window in the door, there
was a smaller opening on each side. For portage,
it was affixed centrally and in an upright position to
two long poles; these, a porter in front and another
behind grasped at the ends, easing the burden by straps
passed over the shoulders. The box was high enough
for the passenger to stand in it.

Lest this plain description should impose an errone
ous idea of the appearance of the carriage, we again
advert to its upholstery in silk- velvet orange-tinted;

114

to the cushions covering the seat ; to the lace curtain
ing the windows in a manner to permit view from
within while screening the occupant from obtrusive
eyes without ; and to the elaborate decoration of the
exterior, literally a mosaic of vari-colored wroods,
mother-of-pearl and gold, the latter in lines and
flourishes. In fine, to such a pitch of gorgeousness
had the Prince designed the chair, intending the pub
lic should receive it as an attestation of his love for
the child to whom it was specially set apart, that it
became a notoriety and avouched its ownership every
where in the city.

The reader would do well in the next place to give
a glance at the men who brought the chair to the
door — two burly fellows, broad-faced, shock-headed,
small-eyed, sandalled, clad in semi-turbans, gray shirts,
and gray trousers immensely bagged behind — profes
sional porters; for the service demanded skill. A
look by one accustomed to the compound of races
hived in Constantinople would have determined them
Bulgarians in extraction, and subjects of the Sultan
by right of recent conquest. They had settled upon
the Prince of India in a kind of retainership. As the
chair belonged to Lael, from long employment as
carriers they belonged to the chair.* Their patron
dealt very liberally with them, and for that reason
had confidence in their honesty and faithfulness.
That they should have pride in the service, he dressed
them in a livery. On this occasion, however, they
presented themselves in every-day costume — a circum
stance which would not have escaped the Prince, or
Uel, or Syama.

The only witness of the departure was, the governess,
who came out and affectionately settled her charge in
the chair, and heard her name the streets which the

115

Bulgarians were to pursue, all of them amongst the
most frequented of the city. Gazing at her through
the window the moment the chair was raised, she
thought Lael never appeared lovelier and was her
self pleased and lulled with the words she received
at parting :

" I will be home before sunset."

The carriers in going followed instructions, except
that upon arrival at the Hippodrome, observing it
already in possession of a concourse of people waiting
for the Epicureans, they passed around the enormous
pile, and entered the imperial gardens by a gate north
of Sancta Sophia.

Lael found the promenade thronged with habitues,
and falling into the current moving toward Point
Serail, she permitted her chair to become part of it;
after which she was borne backward and forward from
the Serail to the Port of Julian, stopping occasion
ally to gaze at the Isles of the Princes seemingly afloat
and drifting through the purple haze of the distance.

Where, she persisted in asking herself, is Sergius ?
Lest he might pass unobserved, she kept the curtains
of all the windows aside, and every long gown and
tall hat she beheld set her heart to fluttering. Her
eagerness to meet the monk at length absorbed her.

The sun marked five o'clock — then half after five-
then, in more rapid declension, six, and still she went
pendulously to and fro along the wall— six o'clock,
the hour for starting home; but she had not seen
Sergius. On land the shadows were lengthening
rapidly ; over the sea, the brightness was dulling, and
the air perceptibly freshening. She awoke finally
to the passage of time, and giving up the hope which
had been holding her to the promenade, reluctantly
bade the carriers take her home.

116

' ' Shall we go by the streets we came ? " the for
ward man asked, respectfully.

"Yes," she returned.

Then, as he closed the door, she was startled by no
ticing the promenade almost deserted ; the going and
coming were no longer in two decided currents;
groups had given place to individual loiterers. These
things she noticed, but not the glance the porters
threw to each other telegraphic of some understand
ing between them.

At the foot of the stairs descending the wall she
rapped on the front window.

" Make haste," she said, to the leading man ; " make
haste, and take the nearest way."

This, it will be perceived, left him to choose the
route in return, and he halted long enough to again
telegraph his companion by look and nod.

Between the eastern front of the Bucoleon and the
sea-wall the entire space was a garden. From the
wall the ascent to the considerable plateau crowned
by the famous buildings was made easy by four grace
ful terraces, irregular in width, and provided with
zigzag roads securely paved.

Roses and lilies were not the only products of the
terraces ; vines and trees of delicate leafage and lim
ited growth flourished upon them in artistic arrange
ment. Here and there were statues and lofty pillars,
and fountains in the open, and fountains under taste
ful pavilions, planted -advantageously at the angles.
Except where the trees and shrubbery formed groups
dense enough to serve as obstructions, the wall com
manded the whole slope. Time was when all this
loveliness was jealously guarded for the lords and
ladies of the court; but when Blacherne became the
Very High Residence the Bucoleon lapsed to the

117

public. His Majesty maintained it; the people en
joyed it.

Following* the zigzags, the carriers mounted two of
the terraces without meeting a soul. The garden
was deserted. Hastening on, they turned the Y at
the beginning of the third terrace. A hundred or
more yards along the latter there was a copse of ole
ander and luxuriant filbert bushes over-ridden by fig
trees. As the sedan drew near this obstruction, its
bearers flung quick glances above and below them,
and along the wall, and descrying another sedan off
a little distance but descending toward them, they
quickened their pace as if to pass the copse first. In
the midst of it, at the exact point where the view from
every direction was cut off, the man in the rear stum
bled, struggled to recover himself, then fell flat. His
ends of the poles struck the pavement with a crash
— the chair toppled backward — Lael screamed. The
leader slipped the strap from his shoulder, and righted
the carriage by letting it go to the ground, floor down.
He then opened the door.

" Do not be scared," he said to Lael, whose impulse
was to scramble out. ' ' Keep your seat — my comrade
has had a fall — that is nothing — keep your seat. I will
get him up, and we will be going on in a minute."

Lael became calm.

The man walked briskly around, and assisted his
partner to his feet. There was a hurried consultation
between them, of which the passenger heard only the
voices. Presently they both came to the door, look
ing much mortified.

" The accident is more than I thought," the leader
said, humbly.

By this time the chill of the first fear was over with
Lael, and she asked :

118

"Can we go on ?"
" If the Princess can walk— yes."
She turned pale.

' ' What is it ? Why must I walk ? "
" Our right-hand pole is broken, and we have noth
ing to tie it with."

And the other man added: "If we only had a
rope ! "

Now the mishap was not uncommon, and remem
bering the fact, Lael grew cooler, and bethought her
self of the silken scarf about her waist. To take it
off was the work of a moment.

" Here," she said, rather pleased at her presence of
mind ; " you can make a rope of this."

They took the scarf, and busied themselves, she
thought, trying to bandage the fractured shaft.
Again they stood before the door.

"We have done the best we can. The pole will
hold the chair, but not with the Princess. She must
walk— there is nothing else for her."

Thereupon the assistant interposed a suggestion:
"One of us can go for another chair, and overtake
the Princess before she reaches the gate."

This was plausible, and Lael stepped forth. She
sought the sun first; the palace hid it, yet she was
cheered by its last rays redly enlivening the heights
of Scutari across the Bosphorus, and felicitated her
self thinking it still possible to get home before the
night was completely fallen.

" Yes, one of you may seek another "-
That instant the sedan her porters had descried be
fore they entered the copse caught her eyes. Doubt,
fear, suspicion vanished; her face brightened: "A
chair ! A chair !— and no one in it ! " she cried, with the
vi vacity of a child. ' ' Bring it here, and let us be gone. "

119

The carriage so heartily welcomed was of the or
dinary class, and the carriers were poorly clad, hard-
featured men, but stout and well trained. They came
at call.

' ' Where are you going ? "

"To the wall."

" Are you engaged ? "

" No, we hoped to find some one belated there."

" Do you know Uel the merchant ? "

' ' We have heard of him. He has a stall in the
market, and deals in diamonds. "

" Do you know where his house is ? "

"On the street from St. Peter's Gate, under the
church by the old cistern."

' ' We have a passenger here, his daughter, and
want you to carry her home. One of our poles is
broken."

"Will she pay us our price ? "

' ' How much do you want ? "

Here Lael interposed : ' ' Stand not on the price.
My father will pay whatever they demand."

The Bulgarians seemed to consider a moment.

" It is the best we can do," the leader said.

"Yes, the very best," the other returned.

Thereupon the first one went to the new sedan, and
opened the door. " If the Princess will take seat," he
said, respectfully, ' ' we will pick up, and follow close
after her."

Lael stepped in, saying as the door closed upon her :
" Make haste, for the night is near."

The strangers without further ado faced about,
and started up the road.

" Wait, wait," she heard her old leader call out.

There was a silence during which she imagined
the Bulgarians were adjusting the straps upon their

120

shoulders; then there came a quick: "Now go, and
hurry, or we will pass you."

These were the last words she heard from them, for
the new men put themselves in motion. She missed
the cushions of her own carriage, but was content —
she was returning home, and going fast. This latter
she judged by the slide and shuffle of the loose-
sandalled feet under her, and the responsive spring
ing of the poles.

The reaction of spirit which overtook her was
simply the swing of nature back to its normal light
ness. She ceased thinking of the accident, except as
an excuse for the delay to which she had been sub
jected. She was glad the Prince's old retainer had
escaped without injury. There was no window back
through which she could look, yet she fancied she
heard the feet of the faithful Bulgarians ; they said
nothing, therefore everything was proceeding well.
Now and then she peered out through the side win
dows to notice the deepening of the shades of evening.
Once a temporary darkness filled the narrow box, but
it gave her no uneasiness — the men were passing out
of the garden through a covered gate. Now they
were in a street, arid the travelling plain.

Thus assured and tranquil, maiden-like, she again
fell to thinking of Sergius. Where could he have
been ? What kept him from the promenade ? He
might have known she would be there. Was the
Hegumen so exacting ? Old people are always for
getting they cannot make young people old like them
selves; and it was so inconvenient, especially now
she wanted to hear of the bear tender. Then she
adverted to the monk more directly. How tall he
was ! How noble and good of face ! And his religion
—she wished ever so quietly that he could be brought

121

over to the Judean faith — she wished it, but did not
ask herself why. To say truth, there was a great
deal more feeling in undertone, as it were, touching
these points than thought; and while she kept it
going, the carriers forgot not to be swift, nor did the
night tarry.

Suddenly there was an awakening. From twilight
deeply shaded, she passed into utter darkness. While,
with her face to a window, she tried to see where she
was and make out what had happened, the chair
stopped, and next moment was let drop to the ground.
The jar and the blank blackness about renewed her
fears, and she called out:

"What is the matter? Where are we? This is
not my father Uel's."

And what time an answer should have been forth
coming had there been good faith and honesty in the
situation, she heard a rush of feet which had every
likeness to a precipitate flight, and then a banging
noise, like the slamming to of a ponderous door.

She had time to think of the wisdom of her father,
the Prince of India, and of her own wilfulness — time
to think of the Greek— time to call once on Sergius —
then a flutter of consciousness — an agony of fright —
and it was as if she died.

CHAPTER XX

THE SILHOUETTE OF A CRIME

A GENIUS thoroughly wicked — such was Demedes.

Quick to see the disgust the young men of Constan
tinople had fallen into for the disputes their elders
were indulging about the Churches, he proposed that
they should discard religion, and reinstate philoso
phy ; and at their request he formulated the follow
ing:

' ' Nature is the lawgiver ; the happiness of man is the
primary object of Nature: hence for youth, Pleasure;
for old age, Repentance and Piety, the life hereafter
being a respectable conjecture."

The principles thus tersely stated were eagerly
adopted, and going forward with his scheme, it may
be said the Academy was his design, and its organiza
tion his work. In recognition of his superior abil
ities, the grateful Academicians elected him their
High Priest.

We have seen how the public received the motto
of the society. Patience, Courage, Judgment looked
fair and disclosed nothing wrong ; but there was an
important reservation to it really the only secret
observed. This was the motto in full, known only
to the initiated— Patience, Courage, Judgment in the
pursuit of Pleasure.

From the hour of his installation as High Priest,
Demedes was consumed by an ambition to illustrate

133

the motto in its entirety, by doing something which
should develop the three virtues in connection with
unheard of daring and originality.

It is to be added here that to his own fortune, he
had now the treasury of the Academy to draw upon,
and it was full. In other words, he had ample means
to carry out any project his judgment might approve.

He pondered the matter long. One day Lael
chanced to fall under his observation. She was beau
tiful and the town talk. Here, he thought, was a
subject worth studying, and speedily two mysteries
presented themselves to him: Who was the Prince
of India ? And what was her true relationship to
the Prince ?

We pass over his resorts in unravelling the myste
ries ; they were many and cunning, and thoroughly
tried the first virtue of the Academical motto ; still
the sum of his finding with respect to the Prince was
a mere theory — he was a Jew and rich — beyond this
Demedes took nothing for his pains.

He proceeded next to investigate Lael. She too
was of Jewish origin, but unlike other Jewesses,
wonderful to say, she had two fathers, the diamond
merchant and the Prince of India.

Nothing better could be asked — so his judgment,
the third virtue of the motto, decreed. In Byzantine
opinion, Jews were socially outside decent regard.
In brief, if he should pursue the girl to her ruin,
there was little to fear from an appeal by either of
her fathers to the authorities. Exile might be the
extremest penalty of discovery.

He began operations by putting into circulation the
calumny, too infamous for repetition, with which we
have seen him attempt to poison Sergius. Robbing
the victim of character would deprive her of sympa-

VOL. II.— 9

124

thy, and that, in the event of failure, would be a half
defence for himself with the public.

He gave himself next to finding what to do with
the little Princess, as he termed her. All his schemes
respecting her fell short in that they lacked original
ity. At last the story of the Plague of Crime, stum
bled on in the library of the St. James', furnished a
suggestion novel, if not original, and he accepted it.

Proceeding systematically, he first examined the
cistern, paddling through it in a boat with a flam-
oeau at the bow. He sounded the depth of the water,
counted the pillars, and measured the spaces between
them ; he tested the purity of the air ; and when the
reconnoissance was through, he laughed at the sim
plicity of the idea, and embodied his decision in a say
ing eminently becoming his philosophic character—
the best of every new thing is that it was once old.

Next he reduced the affair to its elements. He
must steal her— such was the deed in simplest term
— and he must have assistants, but prudence whis
pered just as few of them as possible. He com
menced a list, heading it with the keeper of the cis
tern, whom he found poor, necessitous, and anxious
to better his condition. Upon a payment received,
that worthy became warmly interested, and surprised
his employer with suggestions of practical utility.

Coming then to the abduction, he undertook a
study of her daily life, hoping it would disclose some
thing available. A second name was thereupon en
tered in his list of accomplices.

One day a beggar with sore eyes and a foot swollen
with elephantiasis— an awful object to sight— set a
stool in an angle of the street a few doors from Uel's
house; and thenceforward the girl's every appearance
was communicated to Demedes, who never forgot the

125

great jump of heart with which he heard of the gor
geous chair presented her by the Prince, and of the
visit she forthwith made to the wall of the Bucoleon.

Soon as he satisfied himself that the Bulgarians
were in the Prince's pay, he sounded them. They too
were willing to permit him to make them comfort
able the remainder of their days, especially as, after
the betrayal asked of them, they had only to take
boat to the Turkish side of the Bosphorus, beyond pur
suit and demand. His list of assistants was then in
creased to four.

Now indeed the game seemed secure, and he pre
pared for the hour which was to bring the Jewess to
him.

The keeper of the cistern was the solitary occupant
of a house built round a small court from which a
flight of stone steps admitted to the darkened water.
He had a felicitous turn for mechanics, and under
took the building of a raft with commodious rooms
on it. Demedes went with him to select a place of
anchorage, and afterward planned the structure to
fit between four of the pillars in form thus :

Seeing the design on paper, Demedes smiled— it
was so like a cross ; the part in lines being the land
ing, and the rest a room divisible at pleasure into
three rooms. A boat was provided for commuiiica-

126

tion, and to keep it hid from visitors, a cord was fixed
to a pillar off in the darkness beyond ken, helped
though it might be by torches; so standing on the
stone steps, one could draw the vessel to and fro,
exactly as a flag is hoisted or lowered on a staff.

The work took a long time, but was at last finished.
The High Priest of the Epicureans came meantime to
have something akin to tender feeling for his intended
victim. He indulged many florid dreams of when
she should grace his bower in the Imperial Cistern ;
and as the time of her detention might peradventure
extend into months, he vowed to enrich the bower
until the most wilful spirit would settle into content
ment.

Neither the money nor the time spent in this part
of the preparation was begrudged ; on the contrary,
Demedes took delight in the occupation ; it was exer
cise for ingenuity, taste, and judgment, always a
pleasure to such as possess the qualities. In fact, the
whole way through he likened himself to a bird
building a nest for its mate.

After all, however, the part of the project most
troublesome of arrangement by the schemer, was
getting the Princess into the cistern keeper's house-
that is, without noise, scuffle, witnesses, or a clew left
behind. To this he gave more hours of reflection
than to the rest altogether. The method we have
seen executed was decided upon when he arrived at
two conclusions ; that the attempt was most likely to
succeed in the garden of the Bucoleoii, and that the
Princess must be lured from her chair into another
less conspicuous and not so well known. Greatly to
his regret, but of necessity, he then saw himself com
pelled to increase his list of accessories to six. Yet
he derived peace remembering none of them, with

137

exception of the keeper, knew aught of the affair
beyond their immediate connection with it. The por
ters, for instance, who dropped the unfortunate and
fled, leaving- her in the sedan to intents dead, had not
the slightest idea of what was to become of her after
wards.

The conjunctions needful to success in the enter
prise were numerous; yet the Greek accepted the
waiting they put him to as a trial of the Patience to
which the motto pledged him. He believed in being
ready. When the house was built and furnished, he
drilled the Bulgarians with such particularity that
the scene in the garden may be said to have been
literally to order. Probably the nearest approach
to the mythical sixth sense is the power of casting
one's mind forward to a coming event, and arranging
its occurrence; and whether some have it a gift of
nature, while others derive it from cultivation, this
much is certain — without it, no man will ever create
anything origmaHy.

Now, if the reader pleases, Demedes was too liberally
endowed with the faculty, trait or sense of which we
have just spoken to permit the sedan to be broken;
such an accident would have been very inconvenient
at the critical moment succeeding the exchange of
chairs. The prompter ever at the elbow of a bad man
instructed him that, aside from what the Prince of
India could not do, it was in his power to arouse the
city, and set it going hue and cry ; and then the car
riage, rich, glittering, and known to so many, wTould
draw pursuit, like a flaming torch at night. So it
occurred to Demedes, the main object being to conceal
the going to the cistern keeper's, why not use the
sedan to deceive the pursuers ? He scored the idea
with an exultant laugh.

128

Returning now to the narrative of the enactment,
directly the strange porters moved out of the copse
with their unsuspecting passenger, the Bulgarians
slung the poles to their shoulders, and followed up
the zigzag to the Y of the fourth terrace ; there they
turned, and retraced their steps to the promenade;
whence, after reaching Point Serail, they doubled on
their track, descended the wall, traversed the garden,
and, passing the gate by which they came, paraded
their empty burden around the Hippodrome and
down a thronged street. And again doubling, they
returned to the wall, and finding it forsaken, and the
night having fallen, they abandoned the chair at a
spot where the water on the seaward side was deep and
favorable for whatever violence theory might require.
In the course of this progress they were met by num
berless people, many of whom stopped to observe the
gay turnout, doubting not that the little Princess was
within directing its movements. Finally, their task
thoroughly done, the Bulgarians hurried to where a
boat was in readiness, and crossing to Scutari, lost
themselves in the growing dominions of their rightful
Lord, the Sultan.

One casually reading this silhouette of a crime in
act is likely to rest here, thinking there was nothing
more possible of doing either to forward the deed or
facilitate the escape of those engaged in it ; yet Demedes
was not content. There were who had heard him talk
of the girl— who knew she had been much in his
thought— to whom he had furnished ground for sus
pecting him of following her with evil intent— Sergius
amongst others. In a word, he saw a necessity for
averting attention from himself in the connection.
Here also his wit was willing and helpful. The mo
ment the myrmidon dropped from the portico with

129

news that the Princess was out in ner chair unat
tended, he decided she was proceeding to the wall.

"The gods are mindful of me!" he said, his blood
leaping quick. ' ' Now is the time ripe, and the oppor
tunity come ! "

Looking at the sun, he fixed the hour, and reflected :

"Five o'clock— she is on the wall. Six o'clock-
she is still there. Half after six— making up her
mind to go home. Oh, but the air will be sweet, and
the sea lovely ! Seven o'clock— she gives order, and
the Bulgarians signal my men on the fourth terrace.
Pray Heaven the Russian keep to his prayers or stay
hearkening for my father's bell ! . . . Here am I
seen of these thousands. Later on — about the time
she forsakes the wall — my presence shall be notorious
alon^ the streets from the Temple to Blacherne. Then
what if the monk talks ? May the fiend pave his path
with stumbling-blocks and breaknecks ! The city will
not discredit its own eyes."

The Epicureans, returning from the Hippodrome,
reached their Temple about half after five o'clock.
The dispersal occupied another hour; shortly after,
the regalia having been put away, and the tripods
and banners stored, Demedes called to his mounted
assistants :

"My brothers, we have worked hard, but the sow
ing has been bounteous and well done. Philosophy
in flowers, religion in sackcloth— that is the compari
son we have given the city. There will be no end to
our harvest. To-morrow our doors open to stay open.
To-day I have one further service for you. To your
horses and ride with me to the gate of Blacherne.
We may meet the Emperor."

They answered him shouting : * ' Live the Emperor ! "

"Yes," cried Demedes, when the cheering was

130

over, " by this "time be should be tired of the priests;
and what is that but the change of heart needful to
an Epicurean ? "

Laughing and joking, they mounted, eight of them,
in flowers as when in the Hippodrome. The sun was
going down, but the streets were yet bright with day.
It was the hour when balconies overhanging the nar
row thoroughfares were crowded with women and
children, and the doors beset with servants — the hour
Byzantine gossips were abroad filling and unfilling
their budgets. How the wooden houses trembled
while the cavalcade went galloping by ! What thou
sands of bright eyes peered down upon the cavaliers,
attracted by the shouting and laughter! Now and
then some person would be a little late in attempting
to cross before him ; then with what grace Demedes
would spur after him, his bow and bowstring for
whip ! And how the spectators shrieked with delight
when he overtook the culprit, and wore the flowers
out flogging him! And when a balcony was low,
and illuminated with a face fairer than common,
how the gallant young riders plucked roses from
their helms and shields, and tossed them in shout
ing:

" Largesse, Lady — largesse of thy smiles! "

"Look again ! Another rose for another look ! "

" From the brave to the fair! "

Thus to the gate of Blacherne. There they drew
up, and saluted the officer of the guard, and cheered :
"Live Constantine! To the good Emperor, long
life!"

All the way Demedes rode with lifted visor. Re
turning through the twilight, earlier in the close
streets than in the open, he led his company by the
houses of Uel and the Prince of India. Something

131

might be learned of what was going on with the lit
tle Princess by what was going- on there; and the
many persons he saw in the street signified alarm
and commotion.

" Ho, here!" he shouted, drawing rein. "What
does this mean ? Somebody dead or dying ? "

"Uel, the master of the house, is afraid for his
child. She should have been home before sundown.
He is sending friends out to look for her."

There was a whole story in the answer, and the
conspirator repressed a cry of triumph, and rode on.

CHAPTER XXI

SERGIUS LEARXS A NEW LESSOR

SYAMA, always thoughtful, took care of the treas
ure brought from Plati, and standing by the door
watched his master through the night, wondering
what the outcome of his agitation would be.

It were useless attempting to describe how the
gloomy soul of the Jew exercised itself. His now
ungovernable passions ran riot within him. He who
had seen so much of life, who had made history as
the loomsmen of Bokhara make carpets, who dealt
with kings and kingdoms, and the superlatives of
every kind canonized in the human imagination — he
to be so demeaned ! Yet it was not the disrespect to
himself personally that did the keenest stinging, nor
even the enmity of Heaven denying him the love per
mitted every other creature, bird, beast, crawling rep
tile, monster of the sea— these were as the ruffling of
the weather feathers of a fighting eagle, compared
with the torture he endured from consciousness of
impotency to punish the wrongdoers as he would
like to punish them.

That Lael was immured somewhere in the city, he
doubted not ; and he would find her, for what door
could stand shut against knocking by a hand with
money in it ? But might it not be too late ? The
flower he could recover, but the fragrance and purity

133

of bloom— what of them ? How his breast enlarged
and shrank under the electric touch of that idea!
The devil who did the deed might escape him, for
hell was vast and deep ; yet the city remained, even
the Byzantium ancient of days like himself, and he
would hold it a hostage for the safe return of his
Gul Bahar.

All the night long he walked without pause; it
seemed unending to him ; at length the faintest rosy
tint, a reflection from morning's palette of splendor,
lodged 011 the glass of his eastern window, and
woke him from his misery. At the door he found
Syama.

"Syama," he said, kindly, "bring me the little
case which has in it my choicest drugs."

It was brought him, an oblong gold box encrusted
with brilliants. Opening it, he found a spatula of
fine silver on a crystal lid, and under the lid, in com-,
partments, pellets differently colored, one of which
he selected, and dropped in his throat.

"There, put it back," he said, returning the box to
Syama, who went out with it. Looking then at the
brightness brighter growing through the window,
"Welcome," he continued, speaking to the day as it
were a person: "Thou wert slow coming, yet wel
come. I am ready for this new labor imposed on me,
and shall not rest, or sleep, or hunger, or thirst until
it is done. Thou shalt see I have not lived fourteen
centuries for nothing; that in a hunt for vengeance I
have not lost my cunning. I will give them till thou
hast twice run thy course; then, if they bring her
not, they will find the God they worship once more
the Lord God of Israel."
Syama returned.
"Thou art a faithful man, Syama, and -I love thee.

134

Get me a cup of the Cipango leaves— 110 bread, the
cup alone."

While waiting-, the Prince continued his silent
walk ; but when the tea was brought, he said : ' ' Good !
It shall go after the meat of the poppies " — adding to
Syama— " While I drink, do thou seek Uel, and bring
him to me."

When the son of Jahdai entered, the Prince looked
at him a moment, and asked: "Hast thou word of
her?"

"Not a word, not one word," and with the reply the
merchant's face sunk until the chin rested on his
breast. The hopelessness observable in the voice,
joined to the signs of suffering apparent in the
manner, was irresistibly touching. Another instant,
then the elder advanced to him, and took his
hand.

" We are brothers," he said, with exceeding gentle
ness. "She was our child — ours — thine, yet mine.
She loved us both. We loved her, thou not more,
I not less. She went not willingly from us; we
know that much, because we know she loved us,
me not less, thee not more. A pitfall was digged
for her. Let us find it. She is calling for us from
the bottom — I hear her — now thy name, now mine —
and there is no time to be lost. Wilt thou do as I
say?"

' ' You are strong, and I weak ; be it entirely as you
say," Uel answered, without looking up, for there
were tears in his eyes, and a great groan growing in
his throat.

"Well, see thou now. We will find the child, be
the pit ever so deep ; but — it is well bethinking — we
may not find her the undefiled she was, or we may
find her dead. I believe she had a spirit to prefer

135

death to dishonor — but dead or dishonored, wilt thou
merge thy interest in her into mine ? "

"Yes."

' ' I alone am to decide then what best becomes us to
do. Is it agreed ? "

"Yes — such faith have I in you."

" Oh, but understand thee, son of Jahdai! I speak
not merely as a father, but as an Israelite."

Uel looked at the speaker's face, and was startled.
The calm voice, low and evenly toned, to which he
had been listening, had not prepared him for the
livid pursing he saw under the eyes, and the pupils
lurid and unnaturally dilated — effects we know,
good reader, of the meat of the poppies assisted by
the friendly Cipango leaves. Yet the merchant re
plied, strong in the other's strength: "Am not I,
too, an Israelite ? — Only do not take her from
me."

"Fear not. Now, son of Jahdai, let us to work.
Let us first find our pretty child."

Again Uel was astonished. The countenance was
bright and beaming with confidence. A world of
energy seemed to have taken possession of the man.
He looked inspired — looked as if a tap of -his finger
could fetch the extremities of the continent rolling
like a carpet to his feet.

" Go now, my brother Uel, and bring hither all the
clerks in the market."

"All of them— all ? Consider the expense."

"Nay, son of Jahdai, be thou a true Israelite. In
trade, this for that, consider the profits and stand on
them closely, getting all thou canst. But here is no
trade — here is honor — our honor — thine, mine. Shall
a Christian beat us, and wear the virtue of our
daughter as it were a leman's favor ? No, by Abra-

136

ham— by the mother of Israel" — a returning surge
of passion blackened his face again, and quickened
his speech— "by Rachael and Sarah, and all the
God-loving asleep in Hebron, in this cause our
money shall flow like water— even as the Euphrates
in swollen tide goes bellowing to the sea, it shall
flow. I will fill the mouths and eyes as well as
the pockets of this Byzantium with it, until there
shall not be a dune on the beach, a cranny in the
wall, a rathole in its accursed seven hills unex-
amined. Yes, the say is mine— so thou didst agree
— deny it not! Bid the clerks come, and quickly-
only see to it that each brings his writing material,
and a piece of paper large as his two hands. This
house for their assemblage. Haste. Time flies — and
from the pit, out of the shadows in the bottom of the
pit, I hear the voice of Lael calling now to thee, now
tome."

Uel was not deficient in strength of purpose, nor
for that matter in judgment; he went and in haste;
and the clerks flocked to the Prince, and wrote at
his dictation. Before half the breakfasts in the city
were eaten, vacant places at the church doors, the
cheeks of- all the gates, and the fronts of houses
blazed with handbills, each with a reader before it
proclaiming to listening groups :

"BYZANTINES!
"FATHERS AND MOTHERS OF BYZANTIUM!

" Last evening the daughter of Uel the merchant, a child of
sixteen, small in stature, with dark hair and eyes, and fair to
see, was set upon in the garden of the Bucoleon, and stolen out
of her sedan chair. Neither she, nor the Bulgarians carrying
her have been heard of since.

137

" REWARDS.

" Out of love of the child, whose name was Lael, I will pay
him who returns her to me living or dead

" 6,000 BEZANTS IN GOLD.

" And to him who brings me the abductor, or the name of
any one engaged in the crime, with proof to convict hima

"5,000 BEZANTS IN GOLD.

" Inquire of me at Uel's stall in the Market.

" PRIXCE OF INDIA."

Thus the Jew began his campaign of discovery,
meaning to follow it up with punishment first, and
then vengeance, the latter in conditional mood.

Let us not stop to ask about motives. This much is
certain, the city arose with one mind. Such a run
ning here and there had never been known, except
possibly the times enemies in force sat down before
the gates. The walls landwardly by the sea and har
bor, and the towers of the walls above and below;
old houses whose solitariness and decay were suspi
cious; new houses and their cellars; churches from
crypt to pulpit and gallery ; barracks and magazines,
even the baker's ovens attached to them ; the wharves
and vessels tied up and the ships at anchor — all under
went a search. Hunting parties invaded the woods.
Scorpions were unnested, and bats and owls made
unhappy by daylight where daylight had never been
before. Convents and monasteries were not exempt.
The sea was dragged, and the great moat from the
Golden Gate to the Cynegion raked for traces of a
new-made grave. Nor less were the cemeteries over
hauled, and tombs and sarcophagi opened, and Saints'
Rests dug into and profaned. In short, but one prop
erty in Byzantium was respected — that of the Em
peror. By noon the excitement had crossed to Galata,

138

and was at high tide in the Isles of the Princes. Such
power was there in the offer of bezants in gold— six
thousand for the girl, five thousand for one of her
captors — singly, a fortune to stir the cupidity of a
Duke — together, enough to enlist a King in the work.
And everywhere the two questions — Has she been
found ? and who is the Prince of India ? Poor Uel
had not space to think of his loss or yield to sorrow ;
the questions kept him so busy.

It must not be supposed now in this all but uni
versal search, nobody thought of the public cisterns.
They were visited. Frequently through the day par
ties followed each other to the Imperial reservoir ; but
the keeper was always in his place, cool, wary, and
prepared for them. He kept open door and offered no
hindrance to inspection of his house. To interrogators
he gave ready replies :

' ' I was at home last night from sunset to sunrise.
At dark I closed up, and no one could have come in
afterwards without my seeing him. ... I know
the thair of the merchant's daughter. It is the finest
in the city. The Bulgarians have carried it past my
house, but they never stopped. . . . Oh, yes, you
are welcome to do with the cistern what you please.
There is the doorway to the court, and in the court is
the descent to the water." Sometimes he would treat
the subject facetiously: "If the girl were here, I
should know it, and if I knew it — ha, ha, ha! — are
bezants in gold by the thousand more precious to you
than to me ? Do you think I .teo would not like to be
rich ? — I who live doggedly on three noumias, helped
now and then by scanty palm-salves from travellers ? "

This treatment was successful. One party did in
sist on going beyond the court. They descended the
steps about half way, looked at the great gray pillars

139

in ghostly rows receding off into a blackness of
silence thick with damps and cellar smells, each a
reminder of contagion ; then at the motionless opaque
water, into which the pillars sank to an unknown
depth; and they shivered, and cried: "Ugh! how
cold and ugly ! " and hastened to get out.

Undoubtedly appearances helped save the ancient
cistern from examination; yet there were other in
fluences to the same end. Its vastness was a deterrent.
A thorough survey required organization and expen
sive means, such as torches, boats, fishing tongs and
drag-nets ; and why scour it at all, if not thoroughly
and over every inch ? Well, well — such was the de
cision—the trouble is great, and the uncertainty great
er. Another class was restrained by a sentiment
possibly the oldest and most general amongst men ; that
which casts a spell of sanctity around wells and springs,
and stays the hand about to toss an impurity into a run
ning stream ; which impels the North American Ind
ian to replace the gourd, and the Bedouin to spare the
bucket for the next comer, though an enemy. In
other words, the cistern was in daily use.

One can imagine the scene at the Prince's through
the day. To bring a familiar term into service, his
house was headquarters.

About eight o'clock the sedan was brought home
empty, and without a sign of defacement inside or
out. It told no tale.

Noon, and still no clew.

In the afternoon there was an observable cessation
of vigor in the quest. Thousands broke off, and went
about their ordinary business, giving the reason.

" Which way now ? " would be asked them.

"Home."

* ' What ! Has she been found ? "

VOL. II. — 10

140

4 'Not that we know."

" Ah, you have given up."

"Yes."

"Why?"

' ' We are satisfied the Bulgarians stole the girl. The
Turks have her: and now for a third part of either of
the rewards he offers, the Prince of India, whoever
he is, can ransom her. He will have plenty of time.
There is no such thing as haste in a harem."

By lamplighting in the evening, the capital resumed
its customary quiet, and of the turmoil of the day, the
rush and eager halloo, the promiscuous delving into
secret places, and upturning of things strange and
suspicious, there remained nothing but a vast regret
—vast in the collective sense— for the rewards lost.
Quiet crept into headquarters. To the Prince's in
sistence that the hunt go on, he was advised to prose
cute the inquest on the other side of the Bosphorus.
The argument presented him was plausible; either—
thus it ran— the Bulgarians carried the child away with
them or she was taken from them. They were stout
men, yet there is no sign of a struggle. If they were
killed, we should find their bodies; if they are alive
and innocent, why are they not here ? They would
be entitled to the rewards along with the best of us.

Seeing the drift, the Prince refrained from debate.
He only looked more grim and determined. When
the house was cleared, he took the floor again fiercely
restless as before. Later 011 Uel came in, tired, spirit-
worn, and apparently in the last stage of despondency.
"Well, son of Jahdai, my poor brother," said the
Prince, much moved, and speaking tenderly. "It is
night, and what bringest thou ? "

"Alas! Nothing, except the people say the Bul
garians did it."

"The Bulgarians ! Would it were so ; for look thee,
in their hands she would be safe. Their worst of vil-
lany would be a ransom wrung from us. Ah, no!
They might have been drawn into the conspiracy ; but
take her, they did not. How could they have passed
the gates unseen ? The night was against them. And
besides, they have not the soul to devise or dare the
deed. This is no common criminal, my brother.
When he is found— and he will be, or hell hath en
tered into partnership with him— thou wilt see a Greek
of title, bold from breeding and association, behind
him an influence to guarantee him against the law and
the Emperor. Of the classes in Byzantium to-day,
who are the kings ? Who but the monks ? And here
is a morsel of wisdom, true, else my experience is a
delusion: In decaying and half-organized states, the
boldest in defying public opinion are they who have
the most to do in making it."

" I do not understand you," Uel interposed.

"Thou art right, my brother. I know not why I
am arguing; yet 1 ought not to leave thee in the
dark now ; therefore I will go a step further. Thou
art a Jew— not a Hebrew, or an Israelite, mark thee
— but in the contemptuous Gentile sense, a Jew.
She, our gentle Gul-Bahar, hath her beating of
heart from blood thou gavest her. I also am a Jew.
Now, of the classes in Byzantium, which is it by
whom hate of Jews is the article of religion most
faithfully practised ? Think if it be not the same
from whose shops proceed the right and wrong of the
time— the same I myself scarce three days gone saw
insult and mortify the man they chose Emperor, and
not privately, in the depths of a monastery or chapel,
but publicly, his court present. . • . . Ah, now
thou seest my meaning! In plainest speech, my

149

brother, when he who invented this crime is set down
before us, look not for a soldier, or a sailor, or one of
thy occupation — look not for a beggar, or a laborer,
or an Islamite — look rather for a Greek, with a right
from relationship near or remote to summon the
whole priestly craft to hold up his hands against us,
Jews that we are. But I am not discouraged. I
shall find her, and the titled outlaw who stole her.
Or — but threats now are idle. They shall have to
morrow to bring her home. I pray pardon for keep
ing thee from rest and sleep. Go now. In the
morning betimes see thou that the clerks come back
to me here. I will have need of them again, for "-
he mused a moment — "yes, if that I purpose must
be, then, the worst betiding us, they shall not say
I was hard and merciless, and cut their chances
scant. "

Uel was at the door going, when the Prince called
him .back.

"Wait — I do not need rest. Thou dost. Is Syama
there ? "

" Yes."

"Send him to me."

When the slave was come, " Go," the master said,
" and bring me the golden case."

And when it was brought, he took out a pellet, and
gave it to Uel.

" There — take it, and thou shalt sleep sound as the
dead, and have never a dream — sound, yet health
fully. To-morrow we must work. To-morrow," he
repeated when Uel was gone—' ' to morrow ! Till then,
eternity."

Let us now shift the scene to the Monastery of the
St. James'.

143

It is eight o'clock in the morning — about the time
the empty sedan was being brought to the Prince's
house. Sergius had been hearkening for the Hegu-
men's bell, and at the moment we look in upon him,
he is with the venerable superior, helping him to
breakfast, if a meal so frugal deserves the name.

The young Eussian, it is to be said, retired to his
cell immediately upon the conclusion of the Festival
of Flowers the evening before. Awaking early, he
made personal preparation for the day, and with the
Brotherhood in the chapel, performed the matinal
breviary services, consisting of lauds, psalms, lections
and prayers. Then he took seat by his superior's
door. By and by the bell called him in, and thence
forward he was occupied in the kitchen or at the
elder's elbow. In brief, he knew nothing of the oc
currence which had so overwhelmed the merchant
and the Prince of India.

The Hegumen sat on a broad armless chair, very
pale and weak — so poorly, indeed, that the brethren
had excused him from chapel duties. Having filled
a flagon with water, Sergius was offering it to him,
when the door opened without knock, or other
warning, and Demedes entered. Moving silently to
his father, he stooped, and kissed his hand with
an unction which brought a smile to the sunken
face.

"God's benison on you, my boy. I was thinking
of the airs of Prinkipo or Halki, and that they might
help me somewhat; but now you are here, I will
put them off. Bring the bench to my right hand,
and partake with me, if but to break a crust."

" The crust has the appearance of leaven in it, and
you know the party to which I belong. I am not an
azymite."

144

There was scarcely an attempt to conceal the sneer
with which the young man glanced at the brown
loaf gracing the platter on the Hegumen's knees.
Seeing then a look of pain on the paternal counte
nance, he continued : ' ' No, I have had breakfast,
and came to see how you are, and to apprise you that
the city is being stirred from the foam on top to the
dregs at the bottom, all because of an occurrence last
evening, so incredible, so strange, so audacious, and
so wicked it weakens confidence in society, and almost
forces one to look up and wonder if God does not
sometimes sleep."

The Hegumen and his attendant were aroused.
Both gazed at Demedes looking the same question.

' ' I hesitate to tell you, my dear father, of the affair,
it is so shocking. The chill of the first hearing has
not left me. I am excited body and mind, and you
know how faithfully I have tried to school myself
against excitement — it is unbecoming — only the weak
suffer it. Rather than trust myself to the narra
tive — though as yet there are no details — I plucked a
notice from a w^all while coming, and as it was the
first I had of the news, and contains all I know, I
brought it along; and if you care to hear, perhaps
our friend Sergius will kindly give you the contents.
His voice is better than mine, and he is perfectly
calm."

"Yes, Sergius will read. Give him the paper."

Thereupon Demedes passed to Sergius one of the
handbills with which the Prince of India had sown
the city. After the first line, the monk began stam
mering and stumbling; at the close of the first sen
tence, he stopped. Then he threw a glance at the
Greek, and from the gaze with which he was met, he
drew understanding and self-control.

145

"I ask thy grace, Father," he said, raising the
paper, and looking at the signature. " I am acquainted
with Uel the merchant, and with the child said to
be stolen. I also know the man whose title is here
attached. He calls himself Prince of India, but by
what right I cannot say. The circumstance is a great
surprise^ to me; so, with thy pardon, I will try the
reading again. "

Sergius finished the paper, and returned it to
Demedes.

The Hegumen folded his hands, and said: "Oh, the
flow of mercy cannot endure forever ! "
Then the young men looked at each other.
To be surprised when off guard, is to give our
enemy his best opportunity. This was the advantage
the Gre^k then had. He was satisfied with the work
ing of his scheme; yet one dread had disturbed him
through the night. What would the Russian do ?
And when he read the Prince's proclamation, and
saw the rewards offered, in amounts undreamt of,
he shivered; not, as he told the Hegumen, from
horror at the crime; still less from fear that the
multitude might blunder on discovery; and least of
all from apprehension of betrayal from his assistants,
for, with exception of the cistern-keeper, they were
all 'in flight, and a night's journey gone. Be the
mass of enemies ever so great, there is always one
to inspire us with liveliest concern. Here it was
Sergius. He had come so recently into the world-
descent from a monastery in the far north was to
the metropolitan much like being born again— there
was no telling what he might do. Thus moved and
uncertain, the conspirator resolved to seek his ad
versary, if such he were, and boldly try him. In
what spirit would he receive the news ? That was

146

the thought behind the gaze Demedes now bent on
the unsophisticated pupil of the saintly Father Hila-
rion.

Sergius returned the look without an effort to hide
the pain he really felt. His utmost endeavor was to
control his feelings. With no idea of simulation, he
wanted time to think. Altogether it would have been
impossible for him to have chosen a course more per
plexing to Demedes, who found himself driven to his
next play.

"You know now," he said to his father, "why I
decline to break a crust with you. I must go and
help uncover this wicked deed. The rewards are
great"— he smiled blandly — "and I should like to
win one of them at least — the first one, for I have
seen the girl called Lael. She interested m», and I
was in danger from her. Oil one occasion" — he
paused to throw a glance to Sergius — "I even made
advances to become acquainted with her, but she re
pulsed me. As the Prince of India says, she was fair
to see. I am sure I have your permission to engage
in the hunt."

"Go, and God speed you," the Hegumen re
sponded.

" Thank you; yet another request."

He turned to the Russian.

"Now is Sergius here tall, and, if his gown belie
him not, stout, and there may be need of muscle as
well as spirit; for who can tell where our feet will
take us in a game like this, or what or whom we may
confront ? I ask you to permit him to go with me."

' ' Nay, " said the Hegumen, ' ' I will urge him to
go."

Sergius answered simply :

"Not now. I am under penance, and to-day bound

147

to the third breviary prayers. When they are fin
ished, I will gladly go."

"I am disappointed," Demedes rejoined. "But I
must make haste."

He kissed the Hegumen's hand and retired; after
which, the meal speedily concluded, Sergius gathered
the few articles of service on the platter, and raised
it, but stopped to say: "After prayers, with your con
sent, reverend Father, I will take part in this affair."

" Thou hast my consent."

"It may take several days."

" Give thyself all the time required. The errand is
of mercy."

And the holy man extended his hand, and Sergius
saluted it reverently, and went out.

If the young monastic kept not fast hold of the holy
forms prescribed immemorially for the third hour's
service, there is little doubt he was forgiven in the
higher court before which he was supposed present,
for never had he been more nearly shaken out of his
better self than by the Prince's proclamation. He had
managed to appear composed while under Demedes'
observation. In the language of the time, some pro
tecting Saint prompted him to beware of the Greek,
and keeping the admonition, he had come well out
of the interview ; but hardly did the Hegumen's door
close behind him before Lael's untoward fate struck
him with effect. He hurried to his cell, thinking
to recover himself ; but it was as if he were pursued
by a voice calling him, and directly the voice seemed
hers, sharp and piercing from terror. A little later
he took to answering the appeal — I hear, but where
art thou ? His agitation grew until the bell sum
moned him to the chapel, and the sound was glad
dening on account of the companionship it prom-

148

ised Surely the voice would be lost in the full-
toned responses of the brethren. Not so. He heard
it even more clearly. Then, to place himself cer
tainly beyond it, he begged an ancient worshipper
at his side to loan him his triptych. For once,
however, the sorrowful figure of the Christ on the
central tablet was of no avail, hold it close as he
might; strange to say, the face of the graven image
assumed her likeness ; so he was worse off than before,
for now her suffering look was added to her sorrowful
cry.

At last the service was over. Rushing back to his
cell he exchanged his black gown for the coarse gray
garment with which he had sallied from Bielo-Osero.
Folding the veil, and putting it carefully away in his
hat, he went forth, a hunter as the multitude were
hunters; only, as we shall presently see, his zeal was
more lasting than theirs, and he was owner of an
invaluable secret.

On the street he heard everywhere of the rewards,
and everywhere the question, Has she been found ?
The population, women and children included, ap
peared to have been turned out of their houses. The
corners were possessed by them, and it will be easy
for readers who have once listened to Greeks in
hot debate to fancy how on this occasion they were
heard afar. Yet Sergius went his way unobserv
ant of the remarks drawn by the elephantine ears
of his outlandish hood, his tall form, and impeded

step.

Had one stopped him to ask, Where are you going ?
it is doubtful if he could have told. He had no plan ;
he was being pulled along by a pain of heart rather
than a purpose— moving somnolently through a light
which was also a revelation, for now he knew he

149

loved the lost girl— knew it, not by something past,
such as recollections of her sweetness and beauty, but
by a sense of present bereavement, an agonizing im
pulsion, a fierce desire to find the robber, a murderous
longing the like of which had never assailed him.
Th^ going was nearest an answer he could make to
the voice calling him, equivalent to, I am coming.

He sped through the Hippodrome outwalking every
body; then through the enclosure of Sancta Sophia;
then down the garden terraces— Oh, that the copse
could have told him the chapter it had witnessed !-
then up the broad stairway to the promenade, and
along it toward Port St. Julian, never pausing until
he was at the bench in the angle of the wall from
which he had overheard Demedes1 story of the Plague
of Crime.

Now the bench was not in his mind when he started
from the monastery; neither had he thought of it on
the way, or of the dark history it had helped him to;
in a freak, he took the seat he had formerly occupied,
placed his arm along the coping of the parapet, and
closed his eyes. And strange to say, the conversa
tion of that day repeated itself almost word for word.
Stranger still, it had now a significancy not then ob
served; and as he listened, he interpreted, and the
fever of spirit left him.

About an hour before noon, he arose from the bench
like one refreshed by sleep, cool, thoughtful, capable.
In the interval he had put off boyishness, and taken
on manhood replete with a faculty for worldly think
ing that would have alarmed Father Hilarion. In
other words, he was seeing things as they were; that
bad and good, for instance, were coexistent, one as
much a part of the plan of creation as the other ; that
religion could only regulate and reform; that the

150

end of days would find good men striving with bad
men — in brief, that Demedes was performing the role
to which his nature and aptitude assigned him, just
as the venerable Hegumen, his father, was feebly
essaying a counterpart. Nor was that all. The new
ideas to which he had been converted facilitated re
flection along the lines of wickedness. In the Plague
of Crime, told the second time, he believed he had
found what had befallen Lael. Demedes, he remem
bered, gave the historic episode to convince his pro
testing friend how easy it would be to steal and
dispose of her. The argument pointed to the Imperial
cistern as the hiding-place.

Sergius' first prompting was to enlist the aid of the
Prince of India, and go straight to the deliverance;
but he had arisen from the bench a person very differ
ent from a blind lover. Not that his love had cooled —
ah, no ! But there were things to be done before ex
posing his secret. Thus, his curiosity had never been
strong enough to induce him to look into the cistern.
"Was it not worth while to assure himself of the possi
bility of its conversion to the use suspected ? He
turned, and walked back rapidly — down the stairway,
up the terraces, and through the Hippodrome. Sud
denly he was struck with the impolicy of presenting
himself to the cistern-keeper in his present costume —
it would be such a help to identification by Demedes.
So he continued on to the monastery, and resumed the
black gown and tall hat.

The Hegumen's door, which he had to pass in going
out a^ain, served him with another admonition. If
Demedes were exposed through his endeavor, what of
the father ? If, in the conflict certain of precipitation,
the latter sided with his son — and what could be more
natural ? — would not the Brotherhood follow him ?

151

How then could he, Sergius, a foreigner, young, and
without influence, combat a fraternity powerful in the
city and most powerful up at Blacherne ?

At this, it must he confessed, the young man's step
lost its elasticity ; his head sunk visibly, and the love
just found was driven to divide its dominion with a
well-grounded practical apprehension. Yet he walked
011, out of the gate, and thence in the direction of the
cistern.

Arrived there, he surveyed the wooden structure
doubtfully. The door was open, and just inside of it
the keeper sat stick in hand drumming upon the brick
pavement, a rnan of medium height and rather pleas
ant demeanor.

" I am a stranger here," Sergius said to him. " The
cistern is public, I believe; may I see it ? "

"It is public, and you may look at it all you want.
The door there at the end of the passage will let you
into the court. If you have trouble in finding the
stairway down, call me."

Sergius dropped some small coin into the keeper's
hand.

The court was paved with yellow Roman brick, and
moderately spacious. An oblong curbing in the cen
tre without rails marked the place of descent to the
water. Overhead there was nothing to interfere with
the fall of light from the blue sky, except that in one
comer a shed had been constructed barely sufficient
to protect a sedan chair deposited there, its poles on
end leant against the wall. Sergius noticed the chair
and the poles, then looked down over the curbing into
a doorway, and saw four stone steps leading to a plat
form three or four feet square. Observing a further
descent, he went down to the landing, where he paused
long enough to be satisfied that the whole stairway

152

was built into the eastern wall of the cistern. The
light was already dim. Proceeding carefully, for the
stones were slippery, he counted fourteen steps to
another landing, the width of the first but quite ten
feet long, and slightly submerged with water. Here,
as he could go no further, he stopped to look about
him.

It is true there was not much to be seen, yet he was
at once impressed with a sense of vastness and dura
bility. A dark and waveless sheet lay stretched before
him, merging speedily into general blackness. About
four yards away and as many apart, two gigantic
pillars arose out of the motionless flood stark and
ghostly gray. Behind them, suggestive of rows with
an aisle between, other pillars were seen, mere up
right streaks of uncertain hue fainter growing in the
shadowy perspective. Below there was nothing to
arrest a glance. Raising his eyes to the roof above
him, out of the semi-obscurity, he presently defined a
brick vault springing boldly from the Corinthian capi
tals of the nearest pillars, and he knew straightway
the roof was supported by a system of vaults suscepti
ble of indefinite extension. But how was he, standing
on a platform at the eastern edge of the reservoir,
mighty in so many senses, to determine its shape,
width, length ? Stooping he looked down the vista
straining his vision, but there was no opposite wall-
only darkness and impenetrability. He filled his lungs
trying the air, and it was damp but sweet. He
stamped with force— there was a rumble in the vault
overhead— that Avas all. He called: " Lael, Lael"-
there was no answer, though he listened, his soul in
his ears. Therewith he gave over trying tc sound the
great handmade cavern, and lingered awhile mutter
ing:

153

"It is possible, it is possible! At the end of this
row of pillars " — he made a last vain effort to discover
the end — " there may be a house afloat, and she "-
he clinched his hands, and shook with a return of
murderous passion — " God help her! Nay, God help
me! If she is here, as I believe, I will find her."

In the court he again noticed the sedan in the cor
ner.

"I am obliged to you," he said to the keeper by the
door. " How old is the cistern ?"

" Constantino begun it, and Justinian finished it,
they say."

"Is it in use now ? "

" They let buckets down through traps in the roof."

" Do you know how large it is ? " *

* Yere Batan Serai, or the Underground Palace, the ancient Royal Cis
tern, or cistern of Constantine, is in rank, as well as in interest and
beauty, the chief Byzantine cistern. It is on the right-hand side of the
tramway street, west of St. Sophia. The entrance is in the yard of a
large Ottoman house in last street on the right of tramway street before
the tramway turns abruptly west (to right) after passing St. Sophia.

This cistern was built by Constantine the Great, and deepened and en
larged by Justinian the Great in 527, the first year of his reign. It has
been in constant use ever since. The water is supplied from unknown
and subterranean sources, sometimes rising nearly to the capitals of the
columns. It is still in admirable preservation : all its columns are in
position, and almost the entire roof is intact. The columns are arranged
in twelve rows of twenty-eight, there being in all three hundred and thirty-
six," which are twelve feet distant from each other or from the wall. Some
of the capitals are Corinthian ; others plain, hardly more than truncated
pyramids. The roof consists of a succession of brick vaults.

On left side in yard of the large Ottoman house already mentioned is a
trap-door. One is let down over a rickety ladder about four feet to the
top of four high stone steps, which descend on the left to a platform
about three and one-half feet square which projects without railing over
the water. Thence fourteen steps, also without railing, conduct to an
other platform below, about three and one-half feet wide and ten feet
long. Sometimes this lower platform and the nearer steps are covered
with water, though seldom in summer and early fall. These steps are
uneven— in places are broken and almost wanting ; and they as well aa

154

The keeper laughed, and pommelled the pavement
vigorously: "I was never through it — haven't the
courage— nor do I know anybody who has been.
They say it has a thousand pillars, and that it is sup
plied by a river. They tell too how people have gone
into it with boats, and never come out, and that it is
alive with ghosts ; but of these stories I say nothing,
because I know nothing."

Sergius thereupon departed.

both platforms are exceedingly slippery. The place is absolutely dark
save for the feeble rays which glimmer from the lantern of the guide.
One should remember there is no railing or barrier of any sort, and not
advance an inch without seeing where he puts his foot. Then there is no
danger. Moreover, the platform below is less slippery than the steps or
the platform above. Visitors will do well to each bring his own caudle
or small lantern, not for illumination but for safety. When the visitors
have arrived on the lower platform, which is near the middle of the east-
em side against the wall, the guide, who has not descended the steps,
lights a basket of shavings or other quick combustible on the platform
above. The effect is instantaneous and magical. Suddenly from an ob
scurity so profound that only the outline of the nearest columns can be
faintly discerned by the flicker of a candle, the entire maze of columns
flashes into being resplendent and white. The roof and the water send
the light back to each other. Not a sound is heard save distant splashes
here and there as a bucket descends to supply the necessities of some
house above. Nowhere can be beheld a scene more weird and enchant
ing. It will remain printed ou the memory when many another experi
ence of Stauiboul is dim or forgotten.

PROFESSOR GROSVENOR.

CONSTANTINOPLE.

CHAPTER XXII

THE PRINCE OF INDIA SEEKS MAHOMMED

ALL the next night, Syania, his ear against his
master's door, felt the jar of the machine-like tread
in the study. At intervals it would slow, but not
once did it stop. The poor slave was himself nearly
worn out. Sympathy has a fashion of burdening us
without in the least lightening the burden Avhich
occasions it.

To-morrows may be long coming, but they keep
coming. Time is a mill, and to-morrows are but the
dust of its grinding. Uel arose early. He had slept
soundly. His first move was to send the Prince all
the clerks he could find in the market, and shortly
afterwards the city was re-blazoned with bills.

" BYZANTINES !

" Fathers and mothers of Byzantium !

" Lael, the daughter of Uel the merchant, has not been found.
Wherefore I now offer 10,000 bezants in gold for her dead or
alive, and 6,000 bezants in gold for evidence which will lead to
the discovery and conviction of her abductors.

" The offers will conclude with to-day.

"PRINCE OF INDIA."

There was a sensation when the new placards had
been generally read ; yet the hunt of the day before
was not resumed. It was considered exhausted.
Men and women poured into the streets and talked
and talked — about the Prince of India. By ten

VOL. II. — 11

156 •

o'clock all known of him and a great deal more had
gone through numberless discussions; and could he
have heard the conclusions reached he had never
smiled again. By a consensus singularly unanimous,
he was an Indian, vastly rich, but not a Prince, and
his interest in the stolen girl was owing to forbid
den relations. This latter part of the judgment, by far
the most cruel, might have been traced to Demedes.

In all the city there had not been a more tireless
hunter than Demedes. He seemed everywhere pres
ent — on the ships, on the walls, in the gardens and
churches — nay, it were easier telling where he had
not been. And by whomsoever met, he was in good
spirits, fertile in suggestions, and sure of success. He
in fact distinguished himself in the search, and gave
proof of a knowledge of the capital amazing to the
oldest inhabitants. Of course his role was to waste
the energy of the mass. In every pack of beagles it is
said there is one particularly gifted in the discovery
of false scents. Such was Demedes that first day,
until about two o'clock. The results of the quest were
then in, and of the theories to which he listened, noth
ing pleased him like the absence of a suggestion of the
second sedan. There were witnesses to tell of the
gorgeous chair, and its flitting here and yonder
through the twilight; none saw the other. This
seems to have sufficed him, and he suddenly gave up
the chase; appearing in the garden of the Bucoleon,
he declared the uselessness of further effort. The
Jewess, he said, was not in Byzantium ; she had been
carried off by the Bulgarians, and was then on the
road to some Turkish harem. From that moment
the search began to fall off, and by evening it was
entirely discontinued.

Upon appearance of the placards the second day,

157

Demedes was again equal to the emergency. He col,
lected his brethren in the Temple, organized them into
parties, and sent them everywhere — to Galata, to the
towns along the Bosphorus, down the western shore of
the Marmora, over to the Islands, and up to the forest
of Belgrade — to every place, in short, except the
right one. And this conduct, apparently sincere, cer
tainly energetic, bore its expected fruit ; by noon he
was the hero of the occasion, the admiration of the
city.

When very early in the second day the disinclina
tion of the people to renew the search was reported to
the Prince of India, he looked incredulous, and broke
out:

"What! Not for ten thousand bezants! — more
gold than they have had in their treasury at one time
in ten years ! — enough to set up three empires of such
dwindle ! To what is the world coming ? "

An hour or so later, he was told of the total failure
of his second proclamation. The information drove
him with increased speed across the floor.

"I have an adversary somewhere," he was say
ing to himself — "an adversary more powerful than
gold in quantity. Are there two such in Byzan
tium ? "

An account of Demedes1 action gave him some com
fort.

About the third hour, Sergius asked to see him, and
was admitted. After a simple expression of sympa
thy, the heartiness of which was attested by his sad
voice and dejected countenance, the monk said:
* ' Prince of India, I cannot tell you the reasons of
my opinion ; yet I believe the young woman is a pris
oner here in this city. I will also beg you not to ask
me where I think she is held, or by whom. It may

158

turn out that I am mistaken ; I will then feel better
of having had no confidant. With this statement-
submitted with acknowledged uncertainty— can you
trust me ? "

"You are Sergius, the monk ? "

"So they call me; though here I have not been
raised to the priesthood."

' 1 1 have heard the poor child speak of you. You
were a favorite with her."

The Prince spoke with trouble.

"I am greatly pleased to hear it."

The trouble of the Prince was contagious, but Ser
gius presently recovered.

"Probably the best certificate of my sincerity,
Prince— the best I can furnish you— is that your gold
is no incentive to the trial at finding her which I have
a mind to make. If I succeed, a semblance of pay
or reward would spoil my happiness."

The Jew surveyed him curiously. ' ' Almost I doubt
you," he said.

"Yes, I can understand. Avarice is so common,
and disinterestedness, friendship, and love so uncom
mon."

"Verily, a great truth has struck you early."

" Well, hear what I have to ask."

"Speak."

"You have in your service an African "-

"Nilo?"

"That is his name. He is strong, faithful, and
brave, qualities I may need more than gold. Will
you allow him to go with me ? "

The Prince's look and manner changed, and he took
the monk's hand. " Forgive me," he said warmly—
"forgive me, if I spoke doubtfully— forgive me, if I
misunderstood you."

159

Then, with his usual promptitude, he went to the
door, and bade Syama bring Nilo.

" You know my method of speech with him ?" the
Prince asked.

" Yes," Sergius replied.

" If you have instructions for him, see they are given
in a good light, for in the dark he cannot compre
hend."

Nilo came, and kissed his master's hand. He under
stood the trouble which had befallen.

"This," the Prince said to him, "is Sergius, the
monk. He believes he knows where the little Princess
is, and has asked that you may go with him. Are
you willing ? "

The King looked assent.

"It is arranged," the master added to Sergius.
" Have you other suggestion ? "

" It were better he put off his African costume."

" For the Greek ?"

' ' The Greek will excite less attention. ''

"Very well."

In a short time Nilo presented himself in Byzantine
dress, with exception of a bright blue handkerchief on
his head.

"Now, I pray you, Prince, give me a room. I wish
to talk with the man privately."

The request was granted, the instructions given, and
Sergius reappeared to take leave.

"Nilo and I are good friends, Prince. He under
stands me."

" He may be too eager. Remember I found him a

With these words, the Prince and the young Russian
parted.
After this nobody came to the house. The excite-

160

ment had been a flash. Now it seemed entirely dead,
and dead without a clew.

When Time goes afoot his feet are of lead ; and in
this instance his walk was over the Prince's heart.
By noon he was dreadfully wrought up.

"Let them look to it, let them look- to it! " he kept
repeating, sometimes shaking a clinched hand. Oc
casionally the idea to which he thus darkly referred
had power to bring him to a halt. ' ' I have an ad
versary. Who is he ? " Ere long the question pos
sessed him entirely. It was then as if he despaired
of recovering Lael, and had but one earthly object —
vengeance.

"Ah, my God, my God! Am I to lose her, and
never know my enemy ? Action, action, or I will go
mad!"

Uel came with his usual report: "Alas! I have
nothing."

The Prince scarcely heard or saw him.

"There are but two places where this enemy can
harbor," he was repeating to himself—" but two; the
palace and"— he brought his hands together vehe
mently—' ' the church. Where else are they who have
power to arrest a whole people in earnest movement ?
Whom else have I offended? Ay, there it is! I
preached God; therefore the child must perish. So
much for Christian pity ! "

All the forces in his nature became active.

' ' Go, " he said to Uel, ' ' order two men for my chair.
Syama will attend me."

The merchant left him 011 the floor patting one
hand with another.

"Yes, yes, I will try it— I will see if there is such
thing as Christian pity— I will see. It may have
swarmed, and gone to hive at Blacherne."

161

In going to the palace, he continually exhorted the
porters :

"Faster, faster, my men ! "

The officer at the gate received him kindly, and
came back with the answer, "His Majesty will see

you."

Again the audience chamber, Constantino on the
dais, his courtiers each in place; again the Dean in his
role of Grand Chamberlain; again the prostrations.
Ceremony at Blacherne was never remitted. There
is a poverty which makes kings miserable.

"Draw nearer, Prince," said Constantine, benignly.
"I am very busy. A courier arrived this morning
from /Ldrianople with report that my august friend, the
Sultan Amurath, is sick, and his physicians think him
sick unto death. I was not prepared for the responsi
bilities which are rising ; but I have heard of thy great
misfortune, and out of sympathy bade my officer bring
thee hither. By accounts the child was rarely intelli
gent and lovely, and I did not believe there was in
my capital a man to do her such inhuman wrong.
The progress of the search thou didst institute so wise
ly I have watched with solicitude little less than thine
own. My officials everywhere have orders to spare
110 effort or expense to discover the guilty parties;
for if the conspiracy succeed once, it will derive cour
age and try again, thus menacing every family in my
Empire. If thou knowest aught else in my power to
do, I will gladly hear it."

The Emperor, intent upon his expressions, failed to
observe the gleam which shone in the Wanderer's eyes,
excited by mention of the condition of the Sultan.

"I will not try Your Majesty's patience, since I
know the responsibilities to which you have referred
concern the welfare of an Empire, while I am troubled

not knowing if one poor soul be dead or alive; yet
she was the world to me " — thus the Prince began, and
the knightly soul of the Emperor was touched, for his
look softened, and with his hand he gently tapped
the golden cone of the right arm of his throne.

" That which brought me to your feet," the Prince
continued, ' ' is partly answered. The orders to your
officers exhaust your personal endeavor, unless —
unless "-

"Speak, Prince."

" Your Majesty, I shrink from giving offence, and
yet I have in this terrible affair an enemy who is my
master. Yesterday Byzantium adopted my cause,
and lent me her eyes and hands ; before the sun went
down her ardor cooled ; to-day she will not go a rood.
What are we to think, what do, my Lord, when gold
and pity alike lose their influence ? . . . I will
not stop to say what he must be who is so much my
enemy as to lay an icy finger on the warm pulse of the
people. When we who have grown old cast about
for a hidden foe, where do we habitually look ?
Where, except among those whom we have offended ?
Whom have I offended ? Here in the audience YOU
honored me with, I ventured to argue in favor of
universal brotherhood in faith, and God the principle
of agreement ; and there were present some who dealt
me insult, and menaced me, until Your Majesty sent
armed men to protect me from their violence. They
have the ear of the public — they are my adversaries.
Shall I call them the Church ? "

Constantine replied calmly: "The head of the
Church sat here at my right hand that day, Prince,
and he did not interrupt you ; neither did he menace
you. But say you are right — that they of whom you
speak are the Church— what can I do ? "

"The Church has thunders to terrify and subdue
the wicked, and Your Majesty is the head of the
Church."

"Nay, Prince, I fear thou hast studied us unfair
ly. I am a member — a follower — a subscriber to the
faith — its thunders are not mine."

A despairing- look overcast the countenance of the
visitor, and he trembled. " Oh, my God! There is
no hope further — she is lost — lost ! " But recovering
directly, he said: " I crave pardon for interrupting
Your Majesty. Give me permission to retire. I have
much work to do."

Constantine bowed, and on raising his head, de
clared with feeling to his officers: "The wrong to
this man is great."

The Wanderer moved backward slowly, his eyes
emitting uncertain light; pausing, he pointed to the
Emperor, and said, solemnly: " My Lord, thou hadst
thy power to do justice from God; it hath slipped
from thee. The choice was thine, to rule the Church
or be ruled by it; thou hast chosen, and art lost, and
thy Empire with thee."

He was at the door before any one present could
arouse from surprise : then while they were looking
at each other, and making ready to cry out, he came
back clear to the dais, and knelt. There was in his
manner and countenance so much of utter hopeless
ness, that the whole court stood still, each man in
the attitude the return found him .

"My Lord," he said, "thou mightest have saved
me— I forgive thee that thou didst not. See— here "
— he thrust a hand in the bosom of his gown, and
from a pocket drew the great emerald — " I will leave
thee this talisman — it belonged to King Solomon, the
son of David-^I found it in the tomb of Hiram, King

164

of Tyre— it is thine, my Lord, so thou fitly punish
the robber of the lost daughter of my soul, my Gul-
Bahar. Farewell."

He laid the jewel on the edge of the dais, and
rising, betook himself to the door again, and dis
appeared before the Dean, was sufficiently mindful of
his duty.

"The man is mad," the Emperor exclaimed.
"Take up the stone"— he spoke to the Dean—" and
return it to him to-morrow." *

For a time then the emerald was kept passing from
hand to hand by the courtiers, none of whom had
ever seen its peer for size and brilliance ; more than
one of them touched it with awe, for despite a dis
position to be incredulous in the matter of traditions
incident to precious stones, the legend here, left be
hind him by the mysterious old man, was accepted—
this was a talisman— it had belonged to Solomon-
it had been found by the Prince of India— and he
was a Prince— nobody but Indian Princes had such
emeralds to give away. But while they bandied the
talisman about, the Emperor sat, his chin in the palm
of his right hand, the elbow on the golden cone, not
seeing as much as thinking, nor thinking as much
as silently repeating the strange words of the stran
ger: " Thou hadst thy power to do justice from God ;
it hath slipped from thee. The choice was thine to
rule the Church or be ruled by it. Thou hast chosen,
and art lost, and thy Empire with thee." Was this
prophetic ? What did it mean ? And by and by he
found a meaning. The first Constantine made the

* This identical stone, or one very like it, may be seen in the "Treas
ury " which is part of the old Serail in Stamboul. It is in the first roon
of entrance, on the second shelf of the great case of curios, nght-h
Bide.

165

Church ; now the Church will unmake the last Con-
stantine. How many there are who spend their
youth yearning and fighting to write their names in
history, then spend their old age shuddering to read
them there !

The Prince of India was scarcely in his study,
certainly he was not yet calmed down from the pas
sion into which he had been thrown at Blacherne,
when Syama informed him there was a man below
waiting to see him.

"Who is he?"

The servant shook his head.

"Well, bring him here."

Presently a gypsy, at least in right of his mother,
and tent-born in the valley of Buyukdere, slender,
dark-skinned, and by occupation a fisherman, pre
sented himself. From the strength of the odor he
brought with him, the yield of his net during the
night must have been unusually large.

" Am I in presence of the Prince of India ? " the
man asked, in excellent Arabic, and a manner im
possible of acquisition except in the daily life of a
court of the period.

The Prince bowed.

4 ' The Prince of India who is the friend of the Sul
tan Mahommed ? " the other inquired, with greater
particularity.

"Sultan Mahommed? Prince Mahommed, you
mean."

"No — Mahommed the Sultan."

A flash of joy leaped from the Prince's eyes — the
first of the kind in two days.

The stranger addressed himself to explanation.

"Forgive my bringing the smell of mullet and
mackerel into your house. I am obeying instruc-

166

tions which require me to communicate with you in
disguise. I have a despatch to tell who I am, and
more of my business than I know myself."

The messenger took from his head the dirty cloth
covering it, and from its folds produced a slip of
paper; with a salute of hand to breast and forehead,
declarative of a Turk to the habit born, he delivered
the slip, and walked apart to give opportunity for its
reading. This was the writing in free translation :

"Mahommed* Son of Amurath, Sultan of Sultans, to the
Prince of India.

"I am about returning to Magnesia. My father— may the
prayers of the Prophet, almighty with God, preserve him from
long suffering ! — is fast falling into weakness of body and mind.
Ali, son of Abed-din the Faithful, is charged instantly the great
soul is departed on its way to Paradise to ride as the north, wind
flies, and give thee a record which Abed-din is to make on peril
of his soul, abating not the fraction of a second. Thou wilt
understand it, and the purpose of the sending."

The Prince of India, with the slip in his hand,
walked the floor once from west to east to regain the
mastery of himself.

"Ali, son of Abed-din the Faithful," he then said,
"has a record for me."

Now the thongs of All's sandals were united just
below the instep with brass buttons; stooping he
took off that of the left sandal, and gave it a sharp
twist ; whereupon the top came off, disclosing a cav
ity, and a ribbon of the finest satin snugly folded in
it. He gave the ribbon to the Prince, saying:

" The button of the plane tree planted has not in
promise any great thing like this I take from the
button of my sandal. Now is my mission done.
Praised be Allah ! " And while the Prince read, he
recapped the button, and restored it in place.

1G7

The bit of yellow satin, when unfolded, presented
a diagram which the Prince at first thought a nativ
ity ; upon closer inspection, he asked the courier :
''Son of Abed-din, did thy father draw this ?"
"No, it is the handiwork of my Lord, the Sultan
Mahommed."

"But it is a record of death, not of birth."
"Insomuch is my Lord, the Sultan Mahommed,
wiser in his youth than many men in their age "-
Ali paused to formally salute the opinion,
selected the ribbon, and drew the figure— did all
you behold, indeed, except the writing in the
square; that he intrusted to my father, saying at
the time: 'The Prince of India, when he sees the
minute in the square, will say it is not a nativity;
have one there to tell him I, Mahommed, avouch,
' Twice in his life I had the throne from my august
father; now has he given it to me again, this third
time with death to certify it mine in perpetuity;
wherefore it is but righteous holding that the instant
of his final secession must be counted the beginning
of my reign ; for often as a man has back the prop
erty he parted from as a loan, is it not his ? What
ceremony is then needed to perfect his title ? "

"If one have wisdom, O son of Abed-din, whence
is it except from Allah ? Let not thy opinion of thy
young master escape tliee. Were he to die to-mor-

" Allah forbid ! " exclaimed Ali.

"Fear it not," returned the Prince, smiling at the
young man's earnestness: " for is it not written, 'A
soul cannot die unless by permission of God, accord
ing to a writing definite as to time ' ? *— I was about
to say, there is not in his generation another to lie

* Koran, III. 139.

168

as close in the bosom of the Prophet. Where is he
now ? "

' ' He rides doubtless to Adrianople. The moment
I set out hither, which was next minute after the
great decease, a despatch was started for him by
Khalil the Grand Vizier."

' ' Knowest thou the road he will take ? "

"By Gallipoli."

"Behold, All!"— from his finger the Prince took
a ring. ' ' This for thy good news. Now to the road
again, the White Castle first. Tell the Governor
there to keep ward to-night with unlocked gates, for
I may seek them in haste. Then put thyself in the
Lord Mahommed's way coming from Gallipoli, and
when thou hast kissed his sandals for me, and given
him my love and duty, tell him I have perfect under
standing of the nativity, and will meet him in Adri
anople. Hast thou eaten and drunk? "

" Eaten, not drunk, my Lord.'*

"Come then, and I will put thee in the way to
some red wine ; for art thou not a traveller ? "

The son of Abed-din saluted, saying simply:
" Meshallah ! " and was presently in care of Syama;
after which the Prince took the ribbon to the table,
spread it out carefully, and stood over it in the
strong light, studying the symbols and writing in
the square of

THE DIAGRAM.

*' It is the nativity of an Empire,* not a man," the
Prince said, his gaze still on the figure— "an Em
pire which I will make great for the punishment of
these robbers of children."

He stood up at the last word, and continued, ex
citedly: "It is the word of God, else it had not come
to me now riigh overcome and perishing in bitter
waters; and it calls me to do His will. Give over
the child, it says— she is lost to tliee. Go up now,
and be thou my instrument this once again— I AM
THE I AM whom Moses knew, the Lord God of
Israel who covenanted with Abraham, and with
whom there is no forgetting— no, not though the
world follow the leaf blown into the mouth of a
roaring furnace. I hear, O God! I hear— I am
going 1 "

This, it will be observed, is the second of the two
days of grace the Prince appears to have given the
city for the return of Lael ; and as it is rapidly going
without a token of performance, our curiosity in
creases to know the terrible thing in reserve of
which some of his outbursts have vaguely apprised
us.

A few turns across the floor brought him back to
apparent calmness; indeed, but for the fitful light
in his eyes and the swollen veins about his temples,
it might be supposed he had been successful in put
ting his distresses by. He brought Syama in, and,
for the first time in two days, took a seat.

"Listen, and closely," he said; "for I would be
sure you comprehend me. Have you laid the Sacred
Books in the boxes ? "

Syama, in his way, answered, yes.

* Since the conquest of Constantinople by Mahommed, Turkey has
been historically counted an Empire.

170

" Are the boxes secure ? They may have to go a
long- journey."

"Yes."

" Did you place the jewels in new bags ? The old
ones were well nigh gone."

"Yes."

" Are they in the gurglet now ? "

"Yes."

"You know we will have to keep it filled with
water."

"Yes."

"My medicines— are they ready for packing ? "

"Yes."

"Return them to their cases carefully. I cannot
afford to leave or lose them. And the sword — is it
with the books ? "

"Yes."

" Very well. Attend again. On my return from
the voyage I made the other day for the treasure
you have in care " — he paused for a sign of compre
hension — "I retained the vessel in my service, and
directed the captain to be at anchor in the harbor
before St. Peter's gate" — another pause — "I also
charged him to keep lookout for a signal to bring
the galley to the landing; in the day, the signal
would be a blue handkerchief waved; at night, a
lantern swung four times thus " — he gave the illus
tration. "Now to the purpose of all this. Give
heed. I may wish to go aboard to-night, but at
what hour I cannot tell. In preparation, however,
you will get the porters who took me to the palace
to-day, and have them take the boxes and gurg
let of which I have been speaking to St. Peter's
gate. You will go with them, make the signal to
the captain, and see they are safely shipped. The

171

other servants will accompany you. You under
stand ? "

Syama nodded.

' ' Attend further. When the goods are on the
galley, you will stay and guard them. All the
other property you will leave in the house here just
as it is. You are certain you comprehend ?"

"Yes."

"Then set about the work at once. Everything
must be on the ship before dark."

The master offered his hand, and the slave kissed
it, and went softly out.

Immediately that he was alone, the Prince as
cended to the roof. He stood by the table a mo
ment, giving a thought to the many times his Gul-
Bahar had kept watch on the stars for him. They
would come and go regularly as of old, but she ? —
He shook with sudden passion, arid walked around
taking what might have answered for last looks at
familiar landmarks in the wide environment— at
the old church near by and the small section of
Blacherne in the west, the heights of Galata and the
shapely tower northwardly, the fainter glimpses of
Scutari in the east. Then he looked to the south
west where, under a vast expanse of sky, he knew
the Marmora was lying asleep ; and at once his face
brightened. In that quarter a bank of lead-colored
clouds stretched far along the horizon, sending
rifts lighter hued upward like a fan opening toward
the zenith. He raised his hand, and held it palm
thitherward, and smiled at feeling a breath of air.
Somehow the cloud associated itself with the pur
pose of which he was dreaming, for he said audibly,
his eyes fiercely lighted :

" O God, the proud are risen against me, and the

VOL. II,— 12

172

assemblies of violent men have sought after my soul,
and have not set thee before them. But now hast
thou thy hand under my head; now the wind
cometh, and their punishment; and it is for me to
scourge them."

He lingered on the roof, walking sometimes, but
for the most part seated. The cloud in the southwest
seemed the great attraction. Assured it was still
coming, he would drop awhile into deep thought.
If there were calls at the street door, he did not hear
them. At length the sun, going down, was met and
covered out of sight by the curtain beyond the Mar
mora. About the same time a wave of cold February
air rolled into the city, and to escape it he went

below.

The silence there was observable; for now Syama
had finished, and the house was deserted. Through
the rooms upper and lower he stalked gloomy and
restless, pausing now and then to listen to a sufflation
noisier 'and more portentous than its predecessors;
and the moans with which the intermittent blast
turned the corners and occasionally surged through
the windows he received smilingly, much as hospi
table men welcome friends, or as conspirators greet
each other; and often as they recurred, he replied to
them in the sonorous words of the Psalm, and the
refrain, "Now the wind cometh, and the punish
ment."

When night was fallen, he crossed the street
Uel's. Afte^r the first greeting, the conversation be
tween the two was remarkable chiefly for its lapses.
It is always so with persons who have a sorrow in
common—the pleasure is in their society, not in ex
change of words.

In one thing the brethren were agreed— Lael was

173

lost. By and by the Prince concluded it time for
him to depart. There was a lamp burning above the
table ; he went to it, and called Uel ; and when he
was come, the elder drew out a sealed purse, saying:

' ' Our pretty Gul-Bahar may yet be found. The
methods of the Lord we believe in are past finding
out. If it should be that I am not in the city when
she is brought home, I would not she should have
cause to say I ceased thinking of her with a love
equal to yours — a father's love. Wherefore, O son
of Jahdai, I give you this. It is full of jewels, each
a fortune in itself. If she comes, they are hers;
if a year passes, and she is not found, they are
yours to keep, give or sell, as you please. You
have furnished me happiness which this sorrow is
not strong enough to efface. I will not pay you, for
acceptance in such kind were shameful to you as
the offer would be to me ; yet if she comes not in the
year, break the seal. We sometimes wear rings in
help of pleasant memories."

' ' Is your going so certain ? " Uel asked.

' ' O my youngest brother, I am a traveller even as
you are a merchant, with the difference, I have no
home. So the Lord be with you. Farewell."

Then they kissed each other tenderly.

" Will I not hear from you ? " Uel inquired.

"Ah, thank you," and the Wanderer returned to
him and said, as if to show who was first in his very
farewell thought:

"Thank you for the reminder. If perad venture
you too should be gone when she is found, she will
then be in want of a home. Provide against that ;
for she is such a sweet stranger to the world."

' ' Tell me how, and I will keep your wish as it
were part of the Law."

174

" There is a woman in Byzantium worthy to have
Good follow her name whenever it is spoken or
written."

" Give me her name, my Lord."
" The Princess Irene."
"But she is a Christian ! "
Uel spoke in surprise.

"Yes son of Jahdai, she is a Christian. Never
theless send Lael to her. Again I leave you where
I rest myself— with God— our God."

Thereupon he went out finally, and between gusts
of wind regained his own house. He stopped on
entering, and barred the door behind him; then he
groped his way to the kitchen, and taking a lamp
from its place, raked together the embers smother-
in^ in a brazier habitually kept for retention of
fire and lighted the lamp. He next broke up some
stools and small tables, and with the pieces made
a pile under the grand stairway to the second floor,
muttering as he worked: "The proud are risen
against me; and now the wind cometh, and pun
ishment."

Once more he walked through the rooms, and as
cended to the roof. There, just as he cleared the
door, as if it were saluting him, and determined to
give 'him a trial of its force, a blast leaped upon him,
like an embodiment out of the cloud in full posses
sion of both world and sky, and started his gown
astream, and twisting his hair and beard into lashes
whipped his eyes and ears with them, and howled,
and snatched his breath nearly out of his mouth.
Wind it was, and darkness somewhat like that Egypt
knew what time the deliverer, with God behind him
was trying strength with the King's sorcerers— win
and darkness, but not a drop of rain.

• 175

He grasped the door-post, and listened to the crash
ing of heavy things on the neighboring roofs, and
the rattle of light things for the finding of which
loose here and there the gust of a storm may be
trusted where eyes are useless. And noticing that
obstructions served merely to break the flying forces
into eddies, he laughed and shouted by turns so the
inmates of the houses near might have heard had
they been out as he was instead of cowering in their
beds : ' ' The proud are risen against me, and the as
sembly of violent men have sought after my soul ;
and now— ha, ha, ha!— the wind cometh and the
punishment ! "

Availing himself of a respite in the blowing, he ran
across the roof and looked over into the street, and
seeing nothing, neither light nor living thing, he
repeated the refrain with a slight variation : ' ' And
the wind — ha, ha !— the wind is come, and the pun
ishment ! " — then he fled back, and down from the
roof.

And now the purpose in reserve must have reve
lation.

The grand staircase sprang from the floor open be
neath like a bridge. Passing under it, he set the
lamp against the heap of kindling there, and the
smell of scorching wood spread abroad, followed by
smoke and the crackle and snap of wood beginning
to burn.

It was not long until the flames, gathering life and
strength, were beyond him to stay or extinguish
them, had he been taken with sudden repentance.
From step to step they leaped, the room meantime
filling fast with suffocating gases. When he knew
they were beyond the efforts of any and all whom
they might attract, and must burst into conflagration

1T6

the instant they reached the lightest of the gusts
playing havoc outside, he went down on his hands
and knees, for else it had been difficult for him to
breathe, and crawled to the door. Drawing himself
up there, he undid the bar, and edged through into
the street; nor was there a soul to see the puff of
smoke and murky gleam which passed out with
him.

His spirit was too drunken with glee to trouble
itself with precautions now; yet he stopped long
enough to repeat the refrain, with a hideous spasm
of laughter: "And now— ha, ha!— the wind is
come, and the fire, and the punishment." Then he
wrapped his gown closer about his form bending to
meet the gale, and went leisurely down the street,
intending to make St. Peter's gate.

Where the intersections left openings, the Jew,
now a fugitive rather than a wanderer— a fugitive
nevertheless who knew perfectly where he was going,
and that welcome awaited him there— halted to scan
the cloudy floor of the sky above the site of the house
he had just abandoned. A redness flickering and
unsteady over in that quarter was the first assurance
he had of the growth of the flame of small beginning
under the grand staircase.

" Now the meeting of wind and fire!— Now speed
ily these hypocrites and tongue-servers, bastards of
Byzantium, shall know Israel has a God in Avhom
they have no lot, and in what regard he holds conniv
ing at the rape of his daughters. Blow, Wind, blow
harder! Eise, Fire, and spread— be a thousand lions
in roaring till these tremble like hunted curs! The
few innocent are not more in the account than moths
burrowed in woven wool and feeding on its fine
ness. Already the guilty begin to pray— but to

177

whom ? Blow, O Wind ! Spread and spare not, O
Fire!"

Thus he exulted; and as if it heard him and were
making answer to his imprecations, a column, pinked
by the liberated fire below it, a burst of sparks in its
core, shot up in sudden vastness like a Titan rushing
to seizure of the world ; but presently the gale struck
and toppled it over toward Blacherne in the north
west.

" That way points the punishment ? I remember
I offered him God and peace and good-will to men,
and he rejected them. Blow, Winds ! Now are ye
but breezes from the south, spice-laden to me, but in
his ears be as chariots descending. And thou, O
Fire ! Forget not the justice to be done, and whose
servant thou art. Leave Heaven to say which is
guiltier; they who work at the deflowermeiit of the
innocent, or he who answers no to the Everlasting
offering him love. Unto him be thou as banners
above the chariots ! "

Now a noise began— at first faint and uncertain,
then, as the red column sprang up, it strengthened,
and ere long defined itself — Fire, Fire !

It seemed the city awoke with that cry. And
there was peering from windows, opening of doors,
rushing from houses, and hurrying to where the
angry spot oil the floor of the cloud which shut
Heaven off was widening and deepening. In a space
incredibly quick, the streets— those leading to the
corner occupied by the Jew as well— became rivulets
flowing with people, and then blatant rivers.

"My God, what a night for a fire ! "

" There will be nothing left of us by morning, not
even ashes."

" And the women and children— think of them! "

178

"Fire— fire— fire!"

Exchanges like these dinned the Jew until, finding
himself an obstruction, he moved on. Not a phase
of the awful excitement escaped him — the racing- of
men— half-clad women assembling— children staring
wild-eyed at the smoke extending luridly across the
fifth and sixth hills to the seventh— white faces,
exclamations, and not seldom resort to crucifixes
and prayers to the Blessed Lady of Blacherne — he
heard and saw them all— yet kept on toward St.
Peter's gate, now an easy thing, since the thor
oughfares were so aglow he could neither stumble
nor miss the right one. A company of soldiers
running nearly knocked him clown; but finally he
reached the portal, and passed out without chal
lenge. A brief search then for his galley ; and going
aboard, after replying to a few questions about the
fire, he bade the captain cast off, and run for the Bos-
phorus.

" It looks as if the city would all go," he said ; and
the mariner, thinking him afraid, summoned his
oarsmen, and to please him made haste, as he too •
well might, for the light of the burning projected
over the wall, and, flung back from the cloud over
head far as the eye could penetrate, illuminated the
harbor as it did the streets, bringing the ships to
view, their crews on deck, and Galata, wall, house
tops and tower, crowded with people awestruck by
the immensity of the calamity.

When the galley outgoing cleared Point Serail,
the wind and the long swells beating in from the
Marmora white with foam struck it with such force
that keeping firm grip of their oars was hard for the
rowers, and they began to cry out ; whereupon the
captain sought his passenger

179

" My Lord," he said, " I have plied these waters
from boyhood, and never saw them in a night like
this. Let me return to the harbor. "

" What, is it not light enough ?"

The sailor crossed himself, and replied : ' ' There
is light enough — such as it is!" and he shud
dered. ' ' But the wind, and the running sea, my
Lord "—

"Oh! for them, keep on. Under the mountain
height of Scutari the sailing will be plain."

And with much wonder how one so afraid of fire
could be so indifferent to danger from flood and
gale, the captain addressed himself to manoeuvring
his vessel .

"Now," said the Jew, when at last they were well
in under the Asiatic shore—" now bear away up the
Bosphorus."

The light kept following him the hour and more
required to make the Sweet Waters and the White
Castle ; and even there the reflection from the cloud
above the ill-fated city was strong enough to cast
half the stream in shadow from the sycamores lining
its left bank.

The Governor of the Castle received the friend of
his master, the new Sultan, at the landing; and from
the wall just before retiring, the latter took a last
look at the signs down where the ancient capital
was struggling against annihilation. Glutted with
imaginings of all that was transpiring there, he
clapped his hands, and repeated the refrain in its
past form:

' ' Now have the winds come, and the fire, and the
punishment. So be it ever unto all who encourage
violence to children, and reject God."

An hour afterwards, he was asleep peacefully as

180

if there were no such thing as conscience, or a mis
ery like remorse.

Shortly after midnight an officer of the guard
ventured to approach the couch of the Emperor Con-
stantine ; in his great excitement he even shook the
sacred person.

"Awake, Your Majesty, awake, and save the city.
It is a sea of fire."

Constantine was quickly attired, and went first to
the top of the Tower of Isaac. He was filled with
horror by what he beheld ; but he had soldierly qual
ities—amongst others the faculty of keeping a clear
head in crises. He saw the conflagration was taking
direction with the wind and coming straight toward
Blacherne, where, for want of aliment, it needs
must stop. Everything in its line of progress was
doomed ; but he decided it possible to prevent exten
sion right and left of that line, and acting promptly,
he brought the entire military force from the bar
racks to cooperate with the people. The strategy
was successful.

Gazing from the pinnacle as the sun rose, he easily
traced a blackened swath cut from the fifth hill up
to the eastward wall of the imperial grounds; and,
in proof of the fury of the gale, the terraces of the
garden were covered inches deep with ashes and
scoriae-looking flakes of what at sunset had been
happy homes. And the dead ? Ascertainment of
the many who perished was never had; neither did
closest inquiry discover the origin of the fire. The
volume of iniquities awaiting exposure Judgment
Day must be immeasurable, if it is of the book
material in favor among mortals.

The Prince of India was supposed to have been

181

one of the victims of the fire, and not a little sym
pathy was expended for the mysterious foreigner.
But in refuge at the White Castle, that worthy
greedily devoured the intelligence he had the Gov
ernor send for next day. One piece of news, how
ever, did more than dash the satisfaction he secretly
indulged — Uel, the son of Jahdai, was dead — and
dead of injuries suffered the night of the catas
trophe.

A horrible foreboding struck the grim incendiary.
Was the old destiny still pursuing him ? Was it
still a part of the Judgment that every human being
who had to do with him in love, friendship or busi
ness, every one on whom he looked in favor, must
be overtaken soon or late with a doom of some kind ?
From that moment, moved by an inscrutable
prompting of spirit, he began a list of those thus un
fortunate — Lael first, then Uel. Who next ?

The reader will remember the merchant's house
was opposite the Prince's, with a street between
them. Unfortunately the street was narrow; the
heat from one building beat across it and attacked
the other. Uel managed to get out safely ; but rec
ollecting the jewels intrusted to him for Lael, he
rushed back to recover them. Staggering out again
blind and roasting, he fell 011 the pave, and was
carried off, but with the purse intact. Next day he
succumbed to the injuries. In his last hour, he dic
tated a letter to the Princess Irene, begging her to
accept the guardianship of his daughter, if God
willed her return. Such, he said, was his wish,
and the Prince of India's; and with the missive,
he forwarded the jewels, and a statement of the
property he was leaving in the market. They and
all his were for the child — so the disposition ran,

182

concluding with a paragraph remarkable for the
confidence it manifested in the Christian trustee.
" But if she is not returned alive within a year from
this date, then, O excellent Princess, I pray you to
be my heir, holding everything of mine yours un
conditionally. And may God keep you ! "

CHAPTER XXIII

SERGIUS AND NILO TAKE UP THE HUNT

WE have seen the result of Sergius' interview
with the Prince of India, and remember that it was
yet early in the second morning- after Lael's disap
pearance when, in company with Nilo, he bade the
eccentric stranger adieu, and set forth to try his
theory respecting the lost girl.

About noon he appeared southwest of the Hippo
drome in the street leading past the cistern-keeper's
abode. Nilo, by arrangement, followed at a dis
tance, keeping him in sight. By his side there was
a fruit peddler, one of the every-day class whose
successors are banes of life to all with whom in the
modern Byzantium a morning nap is the sweetest
preparation for the day.

The peddler carried a huge basket strapped to
his forehead. He was also equipped with a wooden
platter for the display of samples of his stock;
and it must be said the medlars, oranges, figs of
Smyrna, and the luscious green grapes in enor
mous clusters freshly plucked in the vineyards on
the Asiatic shore over against the Isles of the
Princes, were very tempting; especially so as the
hour was when the whole world acknowledges
the utility of lunching as a stay for dinner.

It is not necessary to give the conversation be
tween the man of fruits and the young Russian.

184

The former was endeavoring to sell. Presently they
reached a point from which the cistern-keeper was
visible, seated, as usual, just within the door pom
melling the pavement. Sergius stopped there, and
affected to examine his companion's stock ; then, as
if of a mind, he said :

" Oh, well! Let us cross the street, and if the man
yonder will give me a room in which I can eat to
my content, I will buy of you. Let us try him."

The two made their way to the door.

"Good day, my friend," Sergius said, to the
keeper, who recognized him, and rising, returned
the salutation pleasantly enough.

' ' You were here yesterday, " he said, ' ' I am glad
to see you again. Come in."

" Thank you," Sergius returned. " I am hungry,
and should like some of this man's store ; but it is
uncomfortable eating in the street; so I thought you
might not be offended if I asked a room for the pur
pose ; particularly as I give you a hearty invitation
to share the repast with me."

In support of the request the peddler held the
platter to the keeper. The argument was good, and
straightway, assuming the air of a connoisseur, the
master of the house squeezed a medlar, and raising
an orange to his nose smelt it, calculated its weight,
and answered : ' ' Why, yes — come right along to my
sitting-room. I will get some knives; and when we
are through, we will have a bowl of water, and a
napkin. Things are not inviting out here as they
might be."

' ' And the peddler ? " Sergius inquired.

" Bring him along. We will make him show us
the bottom of his basket. I believe you said you are
a stranger ? "

185

Sergius nodded.

"Well, I am not," the keeper continued, com
placently. "I know these fellows. They all have
tricks. Bring him in. I have no family. I live
alone."

The monk acknowledged the invitation, but paus
ing to allow the peddler to enter first, he at the same
time lifted his hat as if to readjust it; then a mo
ment was taken to make a roll of the long fair hair,
and tuck it securely under the hat. That finished,
he stepped into the passage, and pursued after his
host through a door on the left hand; whereupon
the passage to the court was clear.

Now the play with the hat was a signal to Nilo.
Rendered into words, it would have run thus: " The
keeper is employed, and the way open. Come ! '
And the King, 011 the lookout, answered by saunter
ing slowly down, mindful if he hurried he might be
followed, there being a number of persons in the
vicinity.

At the door, he took time to examine the front of
the house; then he, too, stepped into the passage
and through it, and out into the court, where, with
a glance, he took everything in— paved area, the
curbing about the stairway to the water, the faces
of the three sides of the square opposite that of the
entrance, all unbroken by door, window, or panel,
the sedan in the corner, the two poles lashed to
gether and on end by the sedan. He looked behind
him— the passage was yet clear— if seen coming in,
he was not pursued. There was a smile on his shin
ing black face; and his teeth, serrated along the
edges after the military fashion in Kash-Cush, dis
played themselves white as dressed coral. Evidently
he was pleased and confident. Next he went to

186

the curb, shot a quick look down the steps far as
could be seen; thence he crossed to the sedan, sur
veyed its exterior, and opened the door. The inte
rior appearing in good order, he entered and sat
down, and closing the door, arranged the curtain in
front, drew it slightly aside and peeped out, now to
the door admitting from the passage, then to the
curbing. Both were perfectly under view.

When the King issued from the chair, his smile
was broader than before, and his teeth seemed to
have received a fresh enamelling. Without pausing
again, he proceeded to the opening of the cistern,
and with his hands on the curbing right and left,
let himself lightly down on the four stones of the
first landing; a moment, and he began descent of
the steps, taking time to inspect everything discern
ible in the shadowy space. At length he stood on
the lower platform.

He was now in serious mood. The white pillars
were wondrous vast, and the darkness— it may be
doubted if night in its natural aspects is more im
pressive to the savage than the enlightened man;
yet it is certain the former will take alarm quicker
when shut in by walls of artful contrivance. His
imagination then peoples the darkness with spirits,
and what is most strange, the spirits are always un
friendly. To say now that Nilo, standing on the
lower platform, was wholly unmoved, would be to
deny him the sensibilities without which there can
be none of the effects usually incident to courage
and cowardice. The vastness of the receptacle stu
pefied him. The silence was a curtain he could feel ;
the water, deep and dark, looked so suggestive of
death that the superstitious soul required a little
time to be itself again. But relief came, and he

187

watched intently to see if there was a current in
the black pool; he could discover none; then, hav
ing gained all the information he could, he as
cended the steps and lifted himself out into the
court. A glance through the passage — another at
the sky — and he entered the sedan, and shut him
self in.

The discussion of the fruit in the keeper's sitting-
room meantime was interesting to the parties en
gaged in it. With excellent understanding of Nilo's
occupation in the court, Sergius exerted himself to
detain his host — if the term be acceptable — long as
possible.

Fortunately no visitors came. Settling the score,
and leaving a profusion of thanks behind him,
he at length made his farewell, and spent the re
mainder of the afternoon on a bench in the Hippo
drome.

Occasionally he went back to the street conducting
to the cistern, and walked down it far enough to get
a view of the keeper still at the door.

In the evening he ate at a confectionery near
by, prolonging the meal till near dusk, and thence,
business being suspended, he idled along the same
thoroughfare in a manner to avoid attracting
attention.

Still later, he found a seat in the recess of an un
used doorway nearly in front of the house of such
interest to him.

The manoeuvres thus detailed advise the reader
somewhat of the particulars of the programme in
execution by the monk and Nilo; nor that only —
they notify him of the arrival of a very interesting
part of the arrangement. In short, it is time to say
that, one in the recess of the door, the other shut up

VOL. II. — 13

188

in the sedan, they are both on the lookout for
Demedes. Would he come ? And when ?

Anticipating a little, we may remark, if he comes,
and goes into the cistern, Nilo is to open the street
door and admit Sergius, who is then to take control
of the after operations.

A little "before sunset the keeper shut his front
door. Sergius heard the iron bolt shoot into the
mortice. He believed Demedes had not seen Lael
since the abduction, and that he would not try to
see her while the excitement was up and the hunt
going forward. But now the city was settled back
into quiet — now, if she were indeed in the cistern, he
would come, the night being in his favor. And fur
ther, if he merely appeared at the house, the circum
stance would be strongly corroborative of the monk's
theory; if he did more— if he actually entered the
cistern, there would be an end of doubt, and Nilo
could keep him there, while Sergius was bringing
the authorities to the scene. Such was the scheme ;
and he who looks at it with proper understanding
must perceive it did not contemplate unnecessary
violence. On this score, indeed, the Prince of India's
significant reminder that he had found Nilo a sav
age, had led Sergius to redoubled care in his instruc
tions.

The first development in the affair took place
under the King's eye.

Waiting in ambush was by no means new to him.
He was not in the least troubled hy impatience. To
be sure, he would have felt more comfortable with a
piece of bread and a cup of water; yet deprivations
of the kind were within the expectations ; and while
there was a hope of good issue for the enterprise, he
could endure them indefinitely. The charge given

189

him pertained particularly to Demedes. No fear of
his not recognizing- the Greek. Had he not enjoyed
the delight of holding him out over the wall to be
dropped to death ?

He was eager, but not impatient. His chief de
pendence was in the sense of feeling, which had been
cultivated so the slightest vibration along the ground
served him in lieu of hearing. The closing of the
front door by the keeper— felt, not heard— apprised
him the day was over.

Not long afterward the pavement was again jarred,
bringing a return of the sensations he used to have
when, stalking lions in Kash-Cush, he felt the earth
thrill under the galloping of the camelopards stam
peded.

He drew the curtain aside slightly, just as a man
stepped into the court from the passage. The person
carried a lighted lamp, and was not Demedes.

The cistern-keeper — for he it was — went to the curb
ing slowly, for the advance airs of the gale were
threatening his lamp, and dropped dextrously
through the aperture to the upper landing.

In ambush the King never admitted anything like
curiosity. Presently he felt the pavement again jar.
Nobody appeared at the passage. Another tremor
more decided— then the King stepped softly from the
sedan, and stealing barefooted to the curbing looked
down the yawning hole.

The lamp on the platform enabled him to see a
boat drawn up to the lower step, and the stranger
in the act of stepping into it. Then the lamp was
shifted to the bow of the boat — oars taken in hand
— a push off, and swift evanishment.

We, with our better information of the devices
employed, know what a simple trick it was on the

190

keeper's part to bring- the vessel to him — he had but
to pull the right string- in the right direction — hut
Nilo was left to his astonishment. Stealing- back to
his cover, he drew the door to, and struggled with
the mystery.

Afterwhile, the mist dissipated, and a fact arose
plainer to him than the mighty hand on his knee.
The cistern was inhabited — -some person was down
there to be communicated with. What should the
King do now ?

The quandary was trying. Finally he concluded
to stay where he was. The stranger might bring
somebody back with him— possibly the lost child-
such Lael was in his thoughts of her.

Afterwhile — he had no idea of time— he felt a shake
run along the pavement, and saw the stranger appear
coming up the steps, lamp in hand. Next instant the
person crawled out of the curbing, and went into the
house through the passage doorway. The King
never took eye from the curbing — nobody followed
after — the secret of the old reservatory was yet a
secret.

Again Nilo debated whether to bring Sergius in,
and again he decided to stay where he was.

Meantime the cloud which the Prince of India had
descried from the roof of his house arrived on the
wings of the gale. Ere long Sergius was shivering
in the recess of the door. For relief he counted the
beads of his rosary, and there was scarcely a Saint
in the calendar omitted from his recitals. If there
was potency in prayers the angels were in the cis
tern ministering to Lael.

The street became deserted. Everything living
which had a refuge sought it ; yet the gale increased :
it howled and sang dirges ; it started the innumerable

191

loose trifles in its way to waltzing over the bowl
ders; every hinged fixture on the exposed house-
fronts creaked and banged. Only a lover would
voluntarily endure the outdoors of such a night— a
lover or a villain unusually bold.

Near midnight— so Sergius judged — a dull redness
began to tinge the cloud overhead, and brightening
rapidly, it ere long cast a strong reflection down
ward. At first he was grateful for the light ; after-
while, however, he detected an uproar distinguish
able from the wind ; it had no rest or lulls, and in
its rise became more and more a human tone. When
shortly people rushed past his cover crying fire,
he comprehended what it was. The illumination
intensified. The whole city seemed in danger. There
were women and children exposed ; yet here he was
waiting on a mere hope; there he could do some
thing. Why not go ?

While he debated, down the street from the direc
tion of the Hippodrome he beheld a man coming
fast despite the strength of the gusts. A cloak
wrapped him from head to foot, somewhat after the
fashion of a toga, and the face was buried in its
folds; yet the air and manner suggested Demedes.
Instantly the watcher quit arguing; and forgetful
of the fire, and of the city in danger, he shrank
closer into the recess.

The thoroughfare was wider than common, and
the person approaching on the side opposite Sergius;
when nearer, his low stature was observable. Would
he stop at the cistern-keeper's ?

Now he was at the door !

The Russian's heart was in his mouth.

Right in front of the door the man halted and
knocked. The sound was so sharp a stone must

193

have been used. Immediately the bolt inside was
drawn, and the visitor passed in.

Was it Demedes ? The monk breathed again— he
believed it was — anyhow the King would determine
the question, and there was nothing to do meantime
but bide the event.

The sedan, it hardly requires saying, was a much
more comfortable ambush than the recess of the
door. Nilo merely felt the shaking the gale now
and then gave the house. So, too, he bade welcome
to the glare in the sky for the flushing it trans
mitted to the court. Only a wraith could have
come from or gone into the cistern unseen by
him.

The clapping to of the front door on the street
was not lost to the King. Presently the person
he had seen in the boat at the foot of the steps
again issued from the passage, lamp in hand as
before ; but as he kept looking back deferentially, a
gust leaped down, and extinguished the flame, com
pelling him to return; whereupon another man
stepped out into the court, halting immediately.
Nilo opened a little wider the gap in the curtain
through which he was peeping.

It may be well to say here that the newcomer
thus unwittingly exposing himself to observation
was the same individual Sergius had seen admit
ted into the house. The keeper had taken him
to a room for the rearrangement of his attire.
Standing forth in the light now filling the court, he
was still wrapped in the cloak, all except the head,
which was jauntily covered with a white cap, in style
not unlike a Scotch bonnet, garnished with two
long red ostrich feathers held in place by a brooch
that shot forth gleams of precious stones in artful

193

arrangement. Once the man opened the cloak, ex
posing a vest of fine-linked mail, white with silver
washing, and furnished with epaulettes or triangular
plates, fitted gracefully to the shoulders. A ruff,
which was but the complement of a cape of heavy
lace, clothed the neck.

To call the feeling which now shot through the
King's every fibre a sudden pleasure would scarcely
be a sufficient description ; it was rather the delight
with which soldiers old in war acknowledge the
presence of their foemeii. In other words, the brave
black recognized Demedes, and was strong minded
enough to understand and appreciate the circum
stances under which the discovery was made. If
the savage arose in him, it should be remembered
he was there to revenge a master's wrongs quite
as much as to rescue a stolen girl. Moreover, the
education he had received from his master was not
in the direction of mercy to enemies.

The two— Demedes and the keeper— lost no time
in entering the cistern, the latter going first. When
the King thought they had reached the lower plat
form, he issued from the chair barefooted, and bend
ing over the curbing beheld what went on below.

The Greek was holding the lamp. The occupation
of his assistant was beyond comprehension until the
boat moved slowly into view. Demedes then set the
lamp down, divested himself of his heavy wyap, and
taking the rower's . seat, unshipped the oars. There
was a brief conference; at the conclusion the sub
ordinate joined his chief ; whereupon the boat pushed
off.

Thus far the affair was singularly in the line of
Sergius' anticipations ; and now to call him in !

There is little room for doubt that Nilo was in per-

194

feet recollection of the instructions he had received,
and that his first intention was to obey them ; for,
standing by the curbing long enough to be assured
the Greek was indeed in the gloomy cavern, whence
escape was impossible except by some unknown exit,
he walked slowly away, and was in the passage door
when, looking back, he saw the keeper leaping out
into the court.

To say truth, the King had witnessed the depart
ure of the boat with misgivings. Catching the rob
bers was then easy; yet rescue of the girl was a
different thing. What might they not do with her
in the meantime ? As he understood his master,
her safety was even more in purpose than their seiz
ure; wherefore his impulse was to keep them in
sight without reference to Sergius. He could swim
— yes, but the water was cold, and the darkness ter
rible to his imagination. It might be hours before
he found the hiding-place of the thieves — indeed, he
might never overtake them. His regret when he
stepped into the passage was mighty ; it enables us,
however, to comprehend the rush of impetuous joy
which now took possession of him. A step to the
right, and he was behind the cheek of the door.

All unsuspicious of danger, the keeper came on;
a few minutes, and he would be in bed and asleep,
so easy was he in conscience. The ancient cistern
had many secrets. What did another one matter ?
His foot was on the lintel — he heard a rustle close at
his side — before he could dart back — ere he could
look or scream, two powerful hands were around
his throat. He was not devoid of courage or strength,
and resisted, struggling for breath. He merely suc
ceeded in drawing his assailant out into the light
far enough to get a glimpse of a giant and a face

195

black and horrible to behold. A goblin from the
cistern! And with this idea, he quit fighting1, and
sank to the floor. Nilo kept his grip needlessly — the
fellow was dead of terror.

Here was a contingency not provided for in the
arrangement Sergius had laid out with such care.

And what now ?

It was for the King to answer.

He dragged the victim out in the court, and set
a foot on his throat. All the savage in him was
awake, and his thoughts pursued Demedes. Hun
gering for that life more than this one, he forgot
the monk utterly. Had he a plank — anything in the
least serviceable as a float— he would go after the
master. He looked the enclosure over, and the se
dan caught his eye, its door ajar. The door would
suffice. He took hold of the limp body of the keeper,
drew it after him, set it on the seat, and was about
wrenching the door away, when he saw the poles.
They were twelve or fourteen feet long and lashed
together. On rafts not half so good he had in Kash-
Cush crossed swollen streams, paddling with his
hands. To take them to the cistern — to descend the
steps with them — to launch himself 011 them — to
push out into the darkness, were as one act, so swiftly
were they accomplished. And going he knew not
whither, but scorning the thought of another man
betaking himself where he dared not, sustained by
a feeling that he was. in pursuit, and would have
the advantage of a surprise when at last he overtook
the enemy, we must leave the King awhile in order
to bring up a dropped thread of our story.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE IMPERIAL CISTERN GIVES UP ITS SECRET

THE reader will return — not unwillingly, it is
hoped — to Lael.

The keeper, on watch for her, made haste to bar
the door behind the carriers of the sedan, who, on
their part, made greater haste to take boat and fly
the city. From his sitting-room he brought a lamp,
and opening the chair found the passenger in a cor
ner to appearance dead. The head was hanging
low ; through the dishevelled hair the slightest mar
gin of forehead shone marble white; a scarce per
ceptible rise and fall of the girlish bosom testified of
the life still there. A woman at mercy, though
dumb, is always eloquent.

" Here she is at last! " the keeper thought, while
making a profane survey of the victim. . . .
" Well, if beauty was his object — beauty without love
—he may be satisfied. That's as the man is. I would
rather have the bezants she has cost him. The mar
ket's full of just such beauty in health and strength
— beauty matured and alive, not wilted like this!
. . . But every fish to its net, every man to
his fate, as the infidels on the other shore say.
To the cistern she must go, and I must put her
there. Oh, how lucky ! Her wits are out— prayers,
tears, resistance would be uncomfortable. May the
Saints keep her ! "

197

Closing the door of the sedan, he hurried out into
the court, and thence down the cistern stairs to the
lower platform, where he drew the boat in, and
fixed it stationary by laying- the oars across the
gunwale from a step. The going- and return were
quick.

" The blood of doves, or the tears of women — I am
not yet decided which is hardest on a soul. . . .
Come along ! . . . There is a palace at the further
end of the road." . . .

He lifted her from the chair. In the dead faint
she was more an inconvenient burden than a heavy
one.

At the curbing he set her down while he returned
for the lamp. The steps within were slippery, and
he dared take no risks. To get her into the boat was
trying ; yet he was gentle as possible— that, however,
was from regard for the patron he was serving. He
laid her head against a seat, and arranged her gar
ments respectfully.

"O sweet Mother of Blacherne!" he then said,
looking at the face for the first time fully exposed.
" That pin on the shoulder — Heavens, how the stone
flashes! It invites me." Unfastening the trinket,
he secured it under his jacket, then ran on: "She
is so white ! I must hurry — or drop her overboard.
If she dies "—his countenance showed concern, but
brightened immediately. ' ' Oh, of course she jumped
overboard to escape ! "

There was no further delay. With the lamp at
the bow, he pushed off, and rowed vigorously.
Through the pillared space he went, with many
quick turns. It were vain saying exactly which
direction he took, or how long he was going ; after
a time, the more considerable on account of the ob-

198

structions to be avoided, he reached the raft hereto
fore described as in the form of a cross and anchored
securely between four of the immense columns by
which the roof of the cistern was upheld. Still Lael
slept the merciful sleep.

Next the keeper carried the unresisting body
to a door of what in the feeble light seemed a
low, one-storied house — possibly hut were a better
word — thence into an interior where the black
ness may be likened to a blindfold many times
multiplied. Yet he went to a couch, and laid her
upon it.

"There — my part is done!" he muttered, with a
long-drawn breath. . . . " Now to illuminate the
Palace ! If she were to awake in this pitch-black "-
something like a laugh interrupted the speech —
"it would strangle her— oil from the press is not
thicker."

He brought in the light — in such essential mid
night it was indispensable, and must needs be al
ways thought of — arid amongst the things which
began to sparkle was a circlet of furbished metal
suspended from the centre of the ceiling. It proved
to be a chandelier, provided with a number of
lamps ready for lighting; and when they were
all lit, the revelation which ensued while a les
son in extravagance was not less a tribute to the
good taste of the reckless genius by which it was
conceived.

It were long reading the inventory of articles he
had brought together there for the edification and
amusement of such as might become his idols. They
were everywhere apparently— books, pictures, musi
cal instruments — on the floor, a carpet to delight a
Sultana mother— over the walls, arras of silk and

199

gold in alternate threads— the ceiling- an elaboration
of wooden panels.

By referring to the diagram of the raft, it will be
seen one quarter was reserved for a landing, while
the others supported what may be termed pavilions,
leaving an interior susceptible of division into three
rooms. Standing under the circlet of light, an in
mate could see into the three open quarters, each
designed and furnished for a special use ; this at the
right hand, for eating and drinking; that at the left,
for sleeping ; the third, opposite the door, for loung
ing and reading. In the first one, a table already
set glittered with ware in glass and precious metals ;
in the second, a mass of pink plush and fairy-like
lace bespoke a bed ; in the third were chairs, a lounge,
and footrests which had the appearance of having
been brought from a Ptolemaic palace only yester
day; and on these, strewn with an eye to artistic
effect, lay fans and shawls for which the harem-
queens of Persia and Hindostan might have con
tended. The ' ' crown-jewel " of this latter apartment,
however, was undoubtedly a sheet of copper bur
nished to answer the purpose of a looking-glass with
a full-length view. On stands next the mirror, was
a collection of toilet necessaries.

Elsewhere we have heard of a Palace of Love
lying as yet in the high intent of Mahommed ; here
we have a Palace of Pleasure illustrative of Epicure
anism according to Demedes. The expense and
care required to make it an actuality beget the
inference that the float, rough outside, splendid
within, was not for Lael alone. A Princess of India
might inaugurate it, but others as fair and highborn
were to come after her, recipients of the same wor
ship. Whosoever the favorite of the hour might be,

200

the three pavilions were certainly the assigned limits
of her being ; while the getting rid of her would be
never' so easy — the water flowing, no one knew
whence or whither, was horribly suggestive. Once
installed there, it was supposed that longings for the
upper world would go gradually out. The mistress,
with nothing to wish, for not at hand, was to be a
Queen, with Demedes and his chosen of the philo
sophic circle for her ministers. In other words, the
Academic Temple in the upper world was but a
place of meeting; this was the Temple in fact.
There the gentle priests talked business; here they
worshipped; and of their psalter and litany, their
faith and ceremonial practices, enough that the new
substitute for religion was only a reembodiment of
an old philosophy with the narrowest psychical idea
for creed ; namely, that the principle of Present Life
was all there was in man worth culture and gratifi
cation.

The keeper cared little for the furnishments and
curios. He .was much more concerned in the res
toration of his charge, being curious to see how she
would behave on waking. He sprinkled her face
with water, and fanned her energetically, using an
ostrich wing of the whiteness of snow, overlaid
about the handle with scarab-g'ems. Nor did he
forget to pray.

' ' O Holy Mother ! O sweet Madonna of Bla-
cherne ! Do not let her die. Darkness is nothing to
thee. Thou art clothed in brightness. Oh, as thou
lovest all thy children, descend hither, and open
her eyes, and give her speech ! "

The man was in earnest.

Greatly to his delight, he beheld the blood at
length redden the pretty mouth, and the eyelids

201

bfegin to tremble. Then a long, deep inhalation, and
an uncertain fearful looking about ; first at the cir
clet of the lamps, and next at the keeper, who, as be
came a pious Byzantine, burst into exclamation :

" O Holy Mother ! I owe you a candle ! "

Directly, having risen to a sitting posture, Lael
found her tongue :

"You are not my father Uel, or my father the
Prince of India ? "

"No," he returned, plying the fan.

" Where are they ? Where is Sergius ? "

"I do not know."

"Who are you?"

* ' I am appointed to see that no harm comes to
you."

This was intended kindly enough; it had, how
ever, the opposite effect. She arose, and with both
hands holding the hair from her eyes, stared wildly
at objects in the three rooms, and fell to the couch
again insensible. And again the water,, the ostrich-
wing, and the prayer to the Lady of Blacherne —
again an awakening.

" Where am I ? " she asked.

" In the Palace of "—

He had not time to finish ; with tears, and moans,
and wringing of hands she sat up: " Oh, my father!
Oh, that I had heeded him! . . . You will
take me to him, will you not ? He is rich, and
loves me, and he will give you gold and jewels until
you are rich. Only take me to him. . . . See— I
am praying to you!"— and she cast herself at his
feet.

Now the keeper was not used to so much loveli
ness in great distress, and he moved away ; but she
tried to follow him on her knees, crying: "Oh, as

202

you hope mercy for yourself, take me home ! " And
beginning to doubt his strength, he affected harsh
ness.

"It is useless praying to me. I could not take
you out if your father rained gold on me for a
month — I could not if I wished to. ... Be sen
sible, and listen to me."

"Then you did not bring me here."

"Listen to me, I say. . . . You will get hun
gry and thirsty — there are bread, fruit, and water
and wine— and when you are sleepy, yonder is the
bed. Use your eyes, and you are certain to find in
one room or the other everything you can need ; and
whatever you put hand on is yours. Only be sensi
ble, and quit taking on so. Quit praying to me.
Prayer is for the Madonna and the Blessed Saints.
Hush and hear. No ? Well, I am going now."

' ' Going ? — and without telling me where I am ?
Or why I was brought here ? Or by whom ? Oh,
my God!"

She flung herself on the floor distracted ; and he,
apparently not minding, went on:

"I am going now, but will come back for your
orders in the morning, and again in the evening.
Do not be afraid; it is not intended to hurt you ; and
if you get tired of yourself, there are books; or if
you do not read, maybe you sing— there are musical
instruments, and you can choose amongst them.
Now I grant you I am not a waiting-maid, having
had no education in that line; still, if I may advise,
wash your face, and dress your hair, and be beauti
ful as you can, for by and by he will come "-

"Who will come?" she asked, rising to her
knees, and clasping her hands.

The sight was more than enough for him. He

203

fled incontinently, saying: "I will be back in the
morning-." As he went he snatched up the indis
pensable lamp; outside, he locked the door; then
rowed away, repeating, " Oh, the blood of doves
and the tears of women ! "

Left thus alone, the unfortunate girl lay on the
floor a long time, sobbing, and gradually finding
the virtue there is in tears— especially tears of re
pentance. Afterwhile, with the return of reason-
meaning power to think — the silence of the place
became noticeable. Listening closely, she could de
tect no sign of life— nothing indicative of a street,
or a house adjoining, or a neighbor, or that there
was any outdoors about her at all. The noise of an
insect, the note of a bird, a sough of wind, the
gurgle of water, would have relieved her from
the sense of having in some way fallen off the
earth, and been caught by a far away uninhabited
planet. That would certainly have been hard; but
worse — the idea of being doomed to stay there took
possession of her, and becoming intolerable, she
walked from room to room, and even tried to take
interest in the things around. Will it ever be that
a woman can pass a mirror without being arrested
by it ? Before the tall copper plate she finally
stopped. At first, the figure she saw startled her.
The air of general discomfiture — hair loose, features
tear-stained, eyes red and swollen, garments dis
arranged—made it look like a stranger. The notion
exaggerated itself, and further on she found a positive
comfort in the society of the image, which not only
looked somebody else, but more and more somebody
else who was lost like herself, and, being in the
same miserable condition, > would be happy to ex
change sympathy for sympathy.
VOL. ii. — 14

204

Now the spectacle of a person in distress is never
pleasant; wherefore permission is begged to dismiss
the passage of that night in the cistern briefly as
possible. From the couch to the mirror; fearing
now, then despairing; one moment calling for help,
listening next, her distracted fancy caught by an
imaginary sound ; too much fevered to care for re
freshments ; so overwhelmed by the awful sense of
being hopelessly and forever lost, she could neither
sleep nor control herself mentally. Thus tortured,
there were no minutes or hours to her, only a time,
that being a peculiarity of the strange planet her
habitat. To be sure, she explored her prison in
tent upon escape, but was as often beaten back by
walls without window, loophole or skylight — walls
in which there was but one door, fastened out
side.

The day following was to the captive in nothing
different from the night — a time divisionless, and
filled with fear, suspense, and horrible imaginings —
a monotony unbroken by a sound. If she could
have heard a bell, though ever so faint, or a voice,
to whomsoever addressed, it would yet prove her in
an inhabited world — nay, could she but have heard
a cricket singing !

In the morning the keeper kept his appointment.
He came alone and without business except to re
new the oil in the lamps. After a careful survey of
the palace, as he called it, probably in sarcasm, and
as he was about to leave, he offered, if she wanted
anything, to bring it upon his return. Was there
ever prisoner not in want of liberty ? The proposal
did but re.open the scene of the evening previous;
and he fled from it, repeating as before, ' ' Oh, the
blood of doves and the tears of women ! "

205

In the evening he found her more tractable; so at
least he thought ; and she was in fact quieter from
exhaustion. None the less he again fled to escape
the entreaties with which she beset him.

She took to the couch the second night. The need
of nature was too strong for botli grief and fear, and
she slept. Of course she knew not of the hunt going
on, or of the difficulties in the way of finding her;
and in this ignorance the sensation of being lost
gradually yielded to the more poignant idea of de
sertion. Where was Sergius ? Would there ever
be a fitter opportunity for display of the super
human intelligence with which, up to this time, she
had invested her father, the Prince of India ? The
stars could tell him everything; so, if now they
were silent respecting her, it could only be because
he had not consulted them. Situations such as she
was in are right quarters of the moon for unreason
able fantasies; and she fell asleep oppressed by a
conviction that all the friendly planets, even Jupi
ter, for whose appearance she had so often watched
with the delight of a lover, were hastening to their
Houses to tell him where she was, but for some
reason he ignored them.

Still later, she fell into a defiant sullenness, one
of the many aspects of despair.

In this mood, while lying on the couch, she heard
the sound of oars, and almost immediately after felt
the floor jar. She sat up, wondering what had
brought the keeper back so soon. Steps then ap
proached the door; but the lock there proving trou
blesome, suggested one unaccustomed to it ; where
upon she remembered the rude advice to wash her
face and dress her hair, for by and by somebody was
coming.

20G

"Now," she thought, " I shall learn who brought
me here, and why."

A hope returned to her.

" Oh, it may be my father has at last found me! "

She arose — a volume of joy gathered in her heart
ready to burst into expression — when the door was
pushed open, and Demedes entered.

We know the figure he thus introduced to her.
With averted face he reinserted the key in the lock.
She saw the key, heavy enough in emergency for
an aggressive weapon — she saw a gloved hand turn
it, and heard the bolt plunge obediently into its
socket — and the nicker of hope went out. She sunk
upon the couch again, sullenly observant.

The visitor — at first unrecognized by her — behaved
as if at home, and confident of an agreeable recep
tion. Having made the door safe on the outside, he
next secured it inside, by taking the key out. Still
averting his face, he went to the mirror, shook the
great cloak from his shoulders, and coolly surveyed
himself, turning this way and that. He rearranged
his cape, took off the cap, and, putting the plumes in
better relation, restored it to his head — thrust his
gloves on one side under a swordless belt, and the
ponderous key under the same belt but on the other
side, where it had for company a straight dagger
of threatening proportions.

Lael kept watch on these movements, doubtful if
the stranger were aware of her presence. Uncer
tainty 011 that score was presently removed. Turn
ing from the mirror, he advanced slowly toward
her. When under the circlet, just at the point
where the light was most favorable for an exhibition
of himself, he stopped, doffed the cap, and said to
her:

207

" The daughter of the Prince of India cannot have
forgotten me."

Now if, from something said in this chronicle, the
reader has been led to exalt the little Jewess into a
Bradamante, it were just to undeceive him. She
was a woman in promise, of fair intellect subordi
nate to a pure heart. Any great thing said or done
by her would be certain to have its origin in her
affections. The circumstances in which she would
be other than simple and unaffected are inconceiv
able. In the beautiful armor, Demedes was hand
some, particularly as there was no other man near
to force a comparison of stature ; yet she did not see
any of his braveries — she saw his face alone, and
with what feeling may be inferred from the fact that
she now knew who brought her where she was, and
the purpose of the bringing.

Instead of replying, she shrank visibly further
and further from him, until she was an apt reminder
of a hare cornered by a hound, or a dove at last
overtaken by a hawk.

The suffering she had undergone was discernible
in her appearance, for she had not taken the advice
of the keeper; in a word, she was at the moment
shockingly unlike the lissome, happy, radiant crea
ture whom we saw set out for a promenade two days
before. Her posture was crouching; the hair was
falling all ways; both hands pressed hard upon her
bosom ; and the eyes were in fixed gaze, staring at
him as at death. She was in the last extremity of
fear, and he could not but see it.

"Do not be afraid," he said, hurriedly, and in a
tone of pity. ' ' You were never safer than you are
here— I swear it, O Princess ! "

Observing no change in her or indication of reply,

208

he continued: " I see your fear, and it may be I am
its object. Let me come and sit by you, and I will
explain everything— where you are— why you were
brought here — and by whom. ... Or give me a
place at your feet. ... I will not speak for my
self, except as I love you— nay, I will speak for
love."

Still not a word from her— only a sullenness in
which he fancied there was a threat. ... A
threat? What could she do? To him, nothing; he
was in shirt of steel ; but to herself much. . . .
And he thought of suicide, and then of— madness.

"Tell me, O Princess, if you have received any
disrespect since you entered this palace ? There is
but one person from whom it could have proceeded.
I know him; and if, against his solemn oath, he has
dared an unseemly look or word — if he has touched
you profanely — you may choose the dog's death he
shall die, and I will give it him. For that I wear
this dagger. See ! "

In this he was sincere; yet he shall be a student
very recently come to lessons in human nature who
fails to perceive the reason of his sincerity; possibly
she saw it ; we speak with uncertainty, for she still
kept silent. Again he cast about to make her speak.
Reproach, abuse, rage, tears in torrents, fury in any
form were preferable to that look, so like an ani
mal's conscious of its last moment.

' ' Must I talk to you from this distance ? I can, as
you see, but it is cruel ; and if you fear me " — he
smiled, "as if the idea were amusing. "Oh! if you
still fear me, what is there to prevent my compelling
the favors I beg ? "

The menace was of no more effect than entreaty.
Paralysis of spirit from, fright was new to him ; yet

the resources of his wit were without end. Going to
the table, he looked it over carefully.

''What!" he cried, turning to her with well-dis
sembled astonishment. ' ' Hast thou eaten nothing ?
Two days, and not a crumb of bread in thy pretty
throat ? — not a drop of wine ? This shall not go on —
no, by all the goodness there is in Heaven ! "

On a plate he then placed a biscuit and a goblet
filled with red wine of the clearest sparkle, and tak
ing them to her, knelt at her feet.

"I will tell you truly, Princess— I built this palace
for you, and brought you here under urgency of love.
God deny me forever, if I once dreamed of starving
you ! Eat and drink, if only to give me ease of con
science."

He offered the plate to her.

She arose, her face, if possible, whiter than be
fore.

"Do not come near me — keep off!" Her voice
was sharp and high. "Keep off! . . . Or take
me to my father's house. This palace is yours— you
have the key. Oh, be merciful ! "

Madness was very near her.

' ' I will obey you in all things but one, " he said,
and returned the plate to the table, content with
having brought her to speech. "In all things but
one," he repeated peremptorily, standing under the
circlet. ' ' I will not take you to your father's house.
I brought you here to teach you what I would never
have a chance to teach you there — that you are the
idol for whom I have dared every earthly risk, and
imperilled my soul. ... Sit down and rest your
self. I will not come near you to-night, nor ever
without your consent. . . . Yes, that is well.
And now you are seated, and have shown a little

310

faith in my word— for which I thank you and kiss
your hand — hear me further and be reasonable.
You shall love me."

Into this declaration he flung all the passion of his
nature.

"No, no! Draw not away believing yourself in
peril. You shall love me, but not as a scourged
victim. I am not a brute. I may be won too light
ly, by a voice, by bright eyes, by graces of person,
by faithfulness where faithfulness is owing, by a soul
created for love and aglow with it as a star with
light ; but I am not of those who kill the beloved,
and justify the deed, pleading coldness, scorn, pref
erence for another. Be reasonable, I say, O Prin
cess, and hear how I will conquer you. . . . Are
not the better years of life ours ? Why should I
struggle or make haste, or be impatient ? Are you
not where I have chosen to put you ? — where you
shall be comfortable, and want for nothing ? — where
I can visit you day and night to assure myself of
your health and spirits ? — all in the world, yet out
of its sight ? . You may not know what a

physician Time is. I do. He has a medicine for
almost every ailment of the mind, every distemper
of the soul. He may not set my lady's broken finger,
but he will knit it so, when sound again, the hurt
shall be forgotten. He drops a month — in extreme
cases, a year or years — on &, grief, or a bereavement,
and it becomes as if it had never been. So he lets the
sun in on prejudices and hates, and they wither,
and where they were, we go and gather the fruits
and flowers of admiration, respect — ay, Princess, of
love. Now, in this cause, I have chosen Time for
my best friend; he and I will come together, and
stay"—

211

The conclusion of the speech must be left to the
reader, for with the last word some weighty solid
crashed against the raft until it trembled through
out. Demedes stopped. Involuntarily his hand
sought the dagger; and the action was a confession
of surprise. An interval of quiet ensued ; then came
a trial of the lock— at first, gentle— another, with
energy— a third one rattled the strong leaf in its
frame.

' ' The villain ! I will teach him — No, it cannot be
—he would not dare— and besides I have the boat."

As Demedes thus acquitted the keeper, he cast a
serious glance around him, evidently in thought of
defence.

Again the raft was shaken, as if by feet moving
rapidly under a heavy burden. Crash! — and the
door was splintered. Once more — crash ! — and door
and framework shot in — a thunderbolt had not
wrought the wreck more completely.

Justice now to the Greek. Though a genius all
bad, he was manly. Retiring to a position in front
of Lael, he waited, dagger in hand. And he had not
breathed twice, before Nilo thrust his magnificent
person through the breach, and advanced under the
circlet.

Returning now. Had the King been in toils, and
hard pressed, he would not have committed himself
to the flood and darkness of the cistern in the man
ner narrated ; at least the probabilities are he would
have preferred battle in the court, and light, though
of the city on fire, by which to conquer or die. But
his blood was up, and he was in pursuit, not at bay;
to the genuine fighting man, moreover, a taste of vic
tory is as a taste of blood to tigers. He was not in
humor to bother himself with practical considera-

212

tions such as— If I come upon the hiding-place of the
Greek, how, being deaf and dumb, am I to know it ?
Of what use are eyes in a hollow rayless as this ?
Whether he considered the obvious personal dangers
of the adventure— drowning, for instance— is another
matter.

The water was cold, and his teeth chattered ; for it
will be recollected he was astride the poles of the
sedan, lashed together. That his body was half sub
merged was a circumstance he little heeded, since
it was rather helpful than otherwise to the hand
strokes with which he propelled himself. Nor need
it be supposed he moved slowly. The speed attain
able by such primitive means in still water is won
derful.

Going straight from the lower platform of the stair,
he was presently in total darkness. With a row of
columns on either hand, he managed to keep direc
tion; and how constantly and eagerly he employed
the one available sense left him may be imagined.
His project was to push on until stayed by a bound
ary wall — then he would take another course, and
so on to the end. The enemy, by his theory, was in
a boat or floating house. Hopeful, determined, in
spirited by the prospect of combat, he made haste as
best he could. At last, looking over his left shoul
der, he beheld a ruddy illumination, and changed
direction thither. Presently he swept into the radius
of a stationary light, broken, of course, by inter
vening pillars and the shadows they cast; then, at
his right, a hand lamp in front of what had the ap
pearance of a house rising out of the water, startled
him.

Was it a signal ?

The King approached warily, until satisfied no

213

ambush was intended— until, in short, the palace of
the Greek was before him.

It was his then to surprise ; so he drove the ends
of the poles against the landing with force sufficient,
as we have seen, to interrupt Demedes explaining
how he meant to compel the love of Lael.

With all his nicety of contrivance, the Greek had
at the last moment forgotten to extinguish the lamp
or take it into the house with him. The King recog
nized it and the boat, yet circumspectly drew his
humble craft up out of the water. He next tried the
lock, and then the door; finally he used the poles as
a ram.

Taking stand under the circlet, there was scant
room between it and the blue handkerchief on his
head; while the figure he presented, nude to the
waist, his black skin glistening with water, his trou
sers clinging to his limbs, his nostrils dilating, his
eyes jets of flame, his cruel white teeth exposed— this
figure the dullest fancy can evoke — and it must have
appeared to the guilty Greek a very genius of ven
geance.

Withal, however, the armor and the dagger
brought Demedes up to a certain equality; and, as
he showed no flinching, the promise of combat was
excellent. It happened, however, that while the
two silently regarded each other, Lael recognized the
King, and unable to control herself, gave a cry of
joy, and started to him. Instinctively Demedes ex
tended a hand to hold her back ; the giant saw the
opening ; two steps so nearly simultaneous the move
ment was like a leap— and he had the wrist of the
other's armed hand in his grip. Words can convey
no idea of the outburst attending the assault — it was
the hoarse inarticulate falsetto of a dumb man sio--

214

nalizing a triumph. If the reader can think of a tiger
standing over him, its breath on his cheek, its roar
in his ears, something approximate to the effect is
possible.

The Greek's cap fell off, and the dagger rattled to
the floor. His countenance knit with sudden pain —
the terrible grip was crushing the bones — yet he did
not submit. With the free hand, he snatched the key
from his belt, and swung it to strike — the blow was
intercepted — the key wrenched away. Then De-
medes' spirit forsook him — mortal terror showed in
his face turned gray as ashes, and in his eyes, en
larged yet ready to burst from their sockets. He
had not the gladiator's resignation under judgment
of death.

"Save ine, O Princess, save me! . . . He is
killing me. . . . My God — see — hear — he is crush
ing my bones ! . . . Save me ! "

Lael was then behind the King, on her knees,
thanking Heaven for rescue. She heard the im-
ploration, and, woman-like, sight of the awful agony
extinguished the memory of her wrongs.

"Spare him, Nilo, for my sake, spare him! "she
cried.

It was not alone her wrongs that were forgotten
— she forgot that the avenger could not hear.

Had he heard, it is doubtful if he had obeyed ; for
we again remark he was fighting less for her than
for his master— or rather for her in his master's in
terest. And besides, it was the moment of victory,
when, of all moments, the difference between the
man born and reared under Christian influences and
the savage is most impressible.

While she was entreating him, he repeated the
indescribable howl, and catching Demedes bore him

215

to the door and out of it. At the edge of the land
ing, he twisted his fingers in the long locks of the
screaming wretch, whose boasted philosophy was of
so little worth to him now that he never thought of
it— then he plunged him in the water, and held him
under until — enough, dear reader!

Lael did not go out. The inevitable was in the
negro's face. Retreating to the couch, she there
covered her ears with her hands, trying to escape
the prayers the doomed man persisted to the last in
addressing her.

By arid by Nilo returned alone.

He took the cloak from the floor, wrapped her
in it, and signed her to go with him; but the dis
tresses she had endured, together with the horrors
of the scene just finished, left her half fainting. In
his arms she was a child. Almost before she knew
it, he had placed her in the boat. With a cord
found in the house, he tied the poles behind the ves
sel, and set out to find the stairs, the tell-tale lamp
twinkling at the bow.

Safely arrived there, the good fellow carried his
fair charge up the steps to the court — descending
again, he brought the poles — going back once more,
he drew the boat on the lower platform. Then to
hasten to the street door, unbar it, and admit Sergius
were scarce a minute's work.

The monk's amazement and delight at beholding
Lael, and hers at sight of him, require no labored
telling. At that meeting, conventionalities were not
observed. He carried her into the passage, and gave
her the keeper's chair; after which, reminded of the
programme so carefully laid out by him, he returned
with Nilo to the court, where the illumination in the
sky still dropped its relucent flush.

216

Turning the King face to him he asked :

u Where is the keeper ? "

The King walked to the sedan, opened the door,
and dragging the dead man forth, flung him sprawl
ing on the pavement.

Sergius stood speechless, seeing what the victor
had not — arrests, official inquests, and the dread
machinery of the law started, with results not in
foresight except by Heaven. Before he had fairly
recovered, Nilo had the sedan out and the poles fixed
to it, and in the most cheerful, matter-of-fact manner
signed him to take up the forward ends.

"Where is the Greek ? " the monk asked.

That also the King managed to answer.

"In the cistern — drowned!" exclaimed Sergius,
converting the reply into words.

The King drew himself up proudly.

" O Heavens ! What will become of us ? "

The exclamation signified a curtain rising upon
a scene of prosecution against which the Christian
covered his face with his hands. . . . Again Nilo
brought him back to present duty. . . . In a
short time Lael was in the chair, and they bearing
her off.

Sergius set out first for Uel's house. The time was
near morning ; but for the conflagration the indica
tions of dawn might have been seen in the east. He
was not long in getting to understand the awful-
ness of the calamity the city had suffered, and that,
with thousands of others, the dwellings of Uel and
the Prince of India were heaps of ashes on which the
gale was expending its undiminished strength.

What was to be done with Lael ?

This Sergius answered by leading the way to the
town residence of the Princess Irene. There the

217

little Jewess was received, while he took boat and
hurried to Therapia.

The Princess came down, and under her roof, Lael
found sympathy, rest, and safety. In due time also
Uel's last testament reached her, with the purse of
jewels left by the Prince of India, arid she then
assumed guardianship of the bereaved girl.

BOOK Y

MIRZA

CHAPTER I

A COLD WI]^D FROM ADRIAXOPLE

IT is now the middle of February, 1451. Constan-
tine has been Emperor a trifle over three years, and
proven himself a just man and a conscientious
ruler. How great he is remains for demonstration,
since nothing- has occurred to him— nothing properly
a trial of his higher qualities.

In one respect the situation of the Emperor was
peculiar. The highway from Gallipoli to Adrianople,
passing the ancient capital on the south, belonged to
the Turks, and they used it for every purpose— mili
tary, commercial, governmental — used it as undis-
putedly withm their domain, leaving Constantino
territorially surrounded, and with but one neighbor,
the Sultan Amurath.

Age had transformed the great Moslem; from
dreams of conquest, he had descended to dreams of
peace in shaded halls and rose-sprent gardens, with
singers, story-tellers, and philosophers for compan
ions, and women, cousins of the houris, to carpet the
way to Paradise; but for George Castriot,* he had
abandoned the cimeter. Keeping terms of amity
with such a neighbor was easy— the Emperor had
merely to be himself peaceful. Moreover, when
John Palseologus died, the succession was disputed
by Demetrius, a brother to Constantine. Amurath
* Iskander-beg— Scanderbeg. Vide GIBBON'S Roman Empire.

was chosen arbitrator, and he decided in favor of the
latter, placing him under a bond of gratitude.

Thus secure in his foreign relations, the Emperor,
on taking the throne, addressed himself to finding a
consort ; of his efforts in that quest the reader is al
ready informed, leaving it to be remarked that the
Georgian Princess at last selected for him by Phranza
died while journeying to Constantinople. This, how
ever, was business of the Emperor's own inaugu
ration, and in point of seriousness could not stand
comparison with another affair imposed upon him by
inheritance — keeping the religious factions domi
ciled in the capital from tearing each other to pieces.
The latter called for qualities he does not seem to
have possessed. He permitted the sectaries to bom
bard each oth'er with sermons, bulletins and excom
munications which, on the ground of scandal to
religion, he should have promptly suppressed; his
failure to do so led to its inevitable result — the sec
taries presently dominated him.

Now, however, the easy administration of the
hitherto fortunate Emperor is to vanish ; two addi
tional matters of the gravest import are thrust upon
him simultaneously, one domestic, the other foreign ;
and as both of them become turning points in our
story, it is advisable to attend to them here.

When the reins of government fell from the hands
of Amurath, they were caught up by Mahommed;
in other words, Mahommed is Sultan, and the old
regime, with its friendly policies and stately courte
sies, is at an end, imposing the necessity for a recast
of the relations between the Empires. What shall
they be ? Such is the foreign question.

Obviously, the subject being of vital interest to the
Greek, it was for him to take the initiative in bring-

ing- about the definitions desired. With keen ap
preciation of the danger of the situation he addressed
himself to the task. Replying to a request presented
through the ambassador resident at Adrianople,
Mahommed gave him solemn assurances of his dis
position to observe every existing treaty. The re
sponse seems to have made him over-confident. Into
the gilded council chamber at Blacheme he drew his
personal friends and official advisers, and heard
them with patience and dignity. At the close of a
series of deliberative sessions which had almost the
continuity of one session, two measures met his ap
proval. Of these, the first was so extraordinary it
is impossible not to attribute its suggestion to Phran-
za, who, to the immeasurable grief and disgust of our
friend the venerable Dean, was now returned, and
in the exercise of his high office of Grand Chamber
lain.

Allusion has been already made to the religious
faith of the mother of Mahommed.* The daughter
of a Servian prince, she is supposed to have been a

* "For it was thought that his (Amurath's) eldest son Mahomet, after
the death of his father, would have embraced the Christian Religion, be
ing iu. his childhood instructed therein, as was supposed, by his mother,
the daughter of the Prince of Servia, a Christian.11— KNOLLES' Turk.
Hist., 239, Vol. I.

"He (Mahommed) also entered into league with Constantinus Palaeo-
logus, the Emperor of Constantinople, and the other Princes of Grecin;
as also with the Despot of Servia, his Grandfather by the mother's side,
as some will have it; howbeit some others write that the Despot his
daughter, Amurath his wife (the Despot's daughter, Amurath's wife) was
but his Mother-in-law, whom he, under colour of Friendship, sent back
again unto her Father, after the death of Amurath, still allowing her a
Princely Dowery.11— Ibid. 230.

On this very interesting point both Von Hammer and Gibbon are some
what obscure; the final argument, however, is from Phranza: " After the
taking of Constantinople, she (the Princess) fled to Mahomet 11." (GIB
BON'S Bam. Emp., Note 52, 12.) The action is significant of a mother.
Mothere-in-law are not usually BO doting.

234

Christian. After the interment of Amurath, she
had been returned to her native land. Her age was
about fifty. Clothed with full powers, the Grand
Chamberlain was despatched to Adrianople to pro
pose a marriage between His Majesty, the Emperor,
and the Sultana mother. The fears and uncer
tainties besetting the Greek must have been over
whelming.

The veteran diplomat was at the same time en
trusted with another affair which one would nat
urally think called for much less delicacy in negoti
ation. There was in Constantinople then a refugee
named Orchan, of whose history little is known be
yond the fact that he was a grandson of Sultan Soly-
man. Sometime presumably in the reign of John
Palseologus, the Prince appeared in the Greek capital
as a pretender to the Sultanate ; and his claim must
have had color of right, at least, since he became
the subject of a treaty between Amurath and his
Byzantine contemporary, the former binding him
self to pay the latter an annual stipend in aspers in
consideration of the detention of the fugitive.

With respect to this mysterious person, the time
was favorable, in the opinion of the council, for de
manding an increase of the stipend. Instructions
concerning the project were accordingly delivered to
Lord Phraiiza.

The High Commissioner was received with natter
ing distinction at Adrianople. He of course pre
sented himself first to the Grand Vizier, Kalil Pacha,
of whom the reader may take note, since, aside from
his reappearances in these pages, he is a genuine his
toric character. To further acquaintance with him,
it may be added that he was truly a veteran in pub
lic affairs, a member of the great family to which

225

the vizierat descended almost in birthright, and a
friend to the Greeks, most likely from long associa
tion with Amurath, although he has suffered severe
aspersion on their account. Kalil advised Phranza
to drop the stipend. His master, he said, was not
afraid of Orchan; if the latter took the field as
an open claimant, short work would be made of
him. The warning was disregarded. Phranza sub
mitted his proposals to Mahommed directly, and was
surprised by his gentleness and suavity. There was
no scene whatever. On the contrary, the marriage
overture was forwarded to the Sultana with every
indication of approval, nor was the demand touch
ing the stipend rejected; it was simply deferred.
Phranza lingered at the Turkish capital, pleased
with the attentions shown him, and still more with
the character of the Sultan.

In the judgment of the Envoy the youthful mon
arch was the incarnation of peace. What time he
was not mourning the loss of his royal father, he
was studying designs for a palace, probably the
Watch Tower of the World (Jehan Numd), which
he subsequently built in Adrianople.

Well for the trusting master in Blacherne, well
for Christianity in the East, could the credulous
Phranza have looked in upon the amiable young po
tentate during one of the nights of his residence in
the Moslem capital ! He would have found him in a
chamber of impenetrable privacy, listening while
the Prince of India proved the calculations of a hor
oscope decisive of the favorable time for beginning
war with the Byzantines.

"Now, my Lord," he could have heard the Prince
say, when the last of the many tables had been re-
footed for the tenth time — "now we are ready for

the ultimate. We are agreed, if I mistake not " —
this was not merely a complimentary form of speech,
for Mahommed, it should be borne in mind, was
himself deeply versed in the intricate and subtle sci
ence of planetary prediction — "we are agreed that
as thou art to essay the war as its beginner, we
should have the most favorable Ascendant, determi-
nable by the Lord, and the Planet or Planets therein
or in conjunction or aspect with the Lord; we are
also agreed that the Lord of the Seventh House is
the Emperor of Constantinople ; we are also agreed
that to have thee overcome thy adversary, the Em
peror, it is better to have the Ascendant in the
House of one of the Superior Planets, Saturn, Jupi
ter or Mars " —

"Jupiter would be good, 0 Prince," said Ma
hommed, intensely interested, " yet I prefer Mars."

"My Lord is right again." The Seer hesitated
slightly, then explained with a deferential nod and
smile : " I was near saying my Lord is always right.
Though some of the adepts have preferred Scorpio
for the Ascendant, because it is a fixed sign, Mars
pleases me best; wherefore toward him have I
directed all my observations, seeking a time when
he shall certainly be better fortified than the Lord
of the Seventh House, as well as elevated above him
in our figure of the Heavens."

Mahommed leaned far over toward the Prince,
and said imperiously, his eyes singularly bright:
' ' And the ultimate— the time, the time, O Prince !
Hast thou found it ? Allah forbid it be too soon !—
There is so much to be done— so much of prepara
tion."

The Prince smiled while answering :

" My Lord is seeing a field of glory— his by

reservation of destiny— and I do not wonder at his
impatience to go reaping in it ; but " (he became
serious) "it is never to be forgotten — no, riot even
by the most exalted of men— that the Planets march
by order of Allah alone." . . . Then taking the
last of the calculations from the table at his right
hand, he continued: "The Ascendant permits my
Lord to begin the war next year.1'

Mahommed heard with hands clinched till the
nails seemed burrowing in the flesh of the palms.

"The day, O Prince!— the day— the hour!" he
exclaimed.

Looking at the calculation, the Prince appeared
to reply from it: " At four o'clock, March twenty-
sixth "—

"And the year?"

"Fourteen hundred and fifty -two."
"Four o'clock, March twenty -sixth, fourteen hun
dred and fifty -two," Mahommed repeated slowly, as
if writing and verifying each word. Then he cried
with fervor : " There is no God but God ! "

Twice he crossed the floor; after which, unwilling
probably to submit himself at that moment to obser
vation by any man, he returned to the Prince :

"Thou hast leave to retire; but keep within call.
In this mighty business who is worthier to be the
first help of my hands than the Messenger of the
Stars ? "

The Prince saluted and withdrew.
At length Phranza wearied of waiting, and being
summoned home left the two affairs in charge of
an ambassador instructed to forego no opportunity
which might offer to press .them to conclusions.
Afterwhile Mahommed went into Asia to suppress
an insurrection in Caramania. The Greek followed

him from town to camp, until, tiring of the impor
tunity, the Sultan one day summoned him to his
tent.

' ' Tell my excellent friend, the Lord of Constanti
nople, thy master, that the Sultana Maria declines
his offer of marriage."

"Well, my Lord," said the ambassador, touched
by the brevity of the communication, ' ' did not the
great lady deign an explanation ? "

" She declined— that is all. "

The ambassador hurried a courier to Constanti
nople with the answer. For the first time he ven
tured to express a doubt of the Turk's sincerity.

He would have been a wiser man and infinitely
more useful to his sovereign, could he have heard
Mahommed again in colloquy with the Prince of
India.

"How long am I to endure this dog of a Ga-
fcowr?"* asked the Sultan, angrily. "It was not
enough to waylay me in my palace ; he pursued me
into the field ; now he imbitters my bread, now at
my bedside he drives sleep from me, now he be
grudges me time for prayer. How long, I say ? "

The Prince answered quietly: "Until March
twenty-sixth, fourteen hundred and fifty-two."

" But if I put him to sleep, O Prince ? "

" His master will send another in his place."

"Ah, but the interval! Will it not be so many
days of rest ? — so many nights of unbroken sleep ? "

" Has my Lord finished his census yet ? Are his
arsenals full ? Has he his ships, and sailors, and
soldiers ? Has he money according to the esti
mate?"

* Mahommed always wrote and spoke of Byzantines as Romans, ex
cept when in passion; then he called them Gabours.

229

"No."

" My Lord has said he must have cannon. Has he
found an artificer to his mind ?"

Mahommed frowned.

"I will give my Lord a suggestion. Does it suit
him to reply now to the proposal of marriage, keep
ing the matter of the stipend open, he may give half
relief and still hold the Emperor, who stands more
in need of bezants than of a consort. "

"Prince," said Mahommed, quickly, "as you go
out send my secretary in."

"Despatch a messenger for the ambassador of
my brother of Constantinople. I will see him im
mediately."

This to the secretary.

And presently the ambassador had the matter for
report above recited. In the report he might have
said with truth — a person styling himself Prince of
India has risen to be Grand Vizier in fact, leaving
the title to Kalil.

These negotiations, lamentably barren of good re
sults, were stretched through half the year. But it
is necessary to leave them for the time, that we may
return and see if the Emperor had better success in
the management of the domestic problem referred to
as an inheritance,

CHAPTER II

A FIRE FROM THE HEGUMEN^S TOMB

THE great fire burned its way broadly over two
hills of the city, stopping at the wall of the garden
on the eastern front of Blacherne. How it origi
nated, how many houses were destroyed, how many
of the people perished in the flames and in the battle
waged to extinguish them, were subjects of unavail
ing inquiry through many days.

For relief of the homeless, Constantine opened his
private coffers. He also assumed personal direction
of the removal of the debris cumbering the unsightly
blackened districts, and, animated by his example,
the whole population engaged zealously in the melan
choly work. When Galata, laying her jealousies
aside, contributed money and sent companies of
laborers over to the assistance of her neighbor, it
actually seemed as if the long-forgotten age of
Christian brotherhood was to be renewed. But,
alas ! This unity, bred of so much suffering, so de
lightful as a rest from factious alarms, so suggestive
of angelic society and heavenly conditions in gen
eral, disappeared — not slowly, but almost in a twink
ling.

It was afternoon of the second day after the fire.
Having been on horseback since early morning, the
Emperor, in need of repose, had returned to his pal
ace ; but met at the portal by an urgent request for

231

audience from the Princess Irene, he received her
forthwith. The reader can surmise the business she
brought for consideration, and also the amazement
with which her royal kinsman heard of the discovery
and rescue of Lael. For a spell his self-possession
forsook him. In anticipation of the popular excite
ment likely to be aroused by the news, he sum
moned his councillors, and after consultation, ap
pointed a commission to investigate the incident,
first sending a guard to take possession of the cistern.

Like their master, the commissioners had never
heard of the first profanation of the ancient reser
voir ; as a crime, consequently, this repetition was to
them original in all its aspects, and they addressed
themselves to the inquiry incredulously ; but after
listening to Sergius, and to the details the little Jewess
was able to give them, the occurrence forced itself on
their comprehension as more than a crime at law —
it took on the proportions and color of a conspiracy
against society and religion. Then its relative con
sequences presented themselves. Who were con
cerned in it ?

The name of Demedes startled them by suddenly
opening a wide horizon of conjecture. Some were
primarily disposed to welcome the intelligence for
the opportunity it offered His Majesty to crush
the Academy of Epicurus, tut a second thought
cooled their ardor ; insomuch that they began draw
ing back in alarm. The Brotherhood of the St.
James' was powerful, and it would certainly resent
any humiliation their venerable Hegumen might sus
tain through the ignominious exposure of his son.

In great uncertainty, and not a little confusion,
the commissionate body hied from the Princess Irene
to the cistern. While careful to hide it from his

associates, each, of them went with a scarce admitted
hope that there would be a failure of the confirma
tions at least with respect to the misguided Deme-
des; and not to lose sight of Nilo, in whom they
already discerned a serviceable scapegoat, they re
quired him to go with them.

The revelations call for a passing notice. In the
court the body of the keeper was found upon the
pavement. The countenance looked the terror of
which the man died, and as a spectacle grimly
prepared the beholders for the disclosures which
were to follow.

There was need of resolution to make the dismal
ferriage from the lower platform in the cistern, but it
was done, Nilo at the oars. When the visitors stepped
on the landing of the "palace,'- their wonder was
unbounded. When they passed through the battered
doorway, and standing under the circlet, in which
the lights were dead, gazed about them, they knew
not which was most astonishing, the courage of
the majestic black or the audacity of the projector
of the villanous scheme. But where was he ? We
may be sure there was no delay in the demand for
him. While the fishing tongs were being brought,
the apartments were inspected, and a list of their
contents made. Then the party collected at the
edge of the landing. The secret hope was faint
within them, for the confirmations so far were
positive, and the terrible negro, not in the least
abashed, was showing them where his enemy went
down. They gave him the tongs, and at the first
plunge he grappled the body, and commenced rais
ing it. They crowded closer around him, awe-struck
yet silently praying : Holy Mother, grant it be any
but the Hegumen's son ! A white hand, the fingers

gay with rings, appeared above the water. The
fisherman took hold of it, and with a triumphant
smile, drew the corpse out, and laid it face up for
better viewing. The garments were still bright,
the gilded mail sparkled bravely. One stooped with
the light, and said immediately :

11 It is he— Demedes ! "

Then the commissioners looked at each other —
there was no need of speech — a fortunate thing, for
at that instant there was nothing of which they
were more afraid.

Avoidance of the dreaded complications was now
impossible — so at least it seemed to them. Up in
the keeper's room, whither they hurriedly ad
journed, it was resolved to despatch a messenger to
His Majesty with an informal statement of the dis
coveries, and a request for orders. The unwilling
ness to assume responsibility was natural.

Constantine acted promptly, and with sharp dis
cernment of the opportunity afforded the mischief-
makers. The offence was to the city, and it should
see the contempt in which the conspirators held
it, the danger escaped, and the provocation to the
Most Righteous; if then there were seditions, his
conscience wras acquit. He sent Phranza to break
the news to the Hegumen, and went in person to the
Monastery, arriving barely in time to receive the
blessings of his reverend friend, who, overcome by
the shock, died in his arms. Returning sadly to
Blacherne, he ordered the corpses of the guilty men
to be exposed for two days before the door of the
keeper's house, and the cistern thrown open for visi
tation by all who desired to inspect the Palace of
Darkness, as he appropriately termed the floating
tenement constructed with such wicked intents. He

234

also issued a proclamation for the suppression of the
Epicurean Academy, and appointed a day of Thanks
giving to God for the early exposure of the con
spiracy. Nilo he sent to a cell in the Cynegion,
ostensibly for future trial, but really to secure him
from danger; in his heart he admired the King's
spirit, and hoped a day would come when he could
safely and suitably reward him.

On the part of the people the commotion which
ensued was extraordinary. They left the fire to its
smouldering, and in steady currents marched past
the ghastly exhibits prepared for them in the street,
looked at them, shuddered, crossed themselves, and
went their ways apparently thankful for the swift
ness of the judgment which had befallen ; nor was
there one heard to criticise the Emperor's course.
The malefactors were dropped, like unclean clods,
into the earth at night, without ceremony or a
mourner in attendance. Thus far all well.

At length the day of thanksgiving arrived. By
general agreement, there was not a sign of dissatis
faction to be seen. The most timorous of the com
missioners rested easy. Sancta Sophia was the place
appointed for the services, and Constantine had pub
lished his intention to be present. He had donned
the Basileaii robes ; his litter was at the door of the
palace; his guard of horse and foot was formed,
when the officer on duty at the gate down by the
Port of Blacherne arrived with a startling report.

"Your Majesty," he said, unusually regardless of
the ancient salutation, "there is a great tumult in
the city."

The imperial countenance became stern.

" This is a day of thanks to G-od for a great mercy;
who dares profane it by tumult ? "

335

"I must speak from hearsay," the officer an
swered. . . . "The funeral of the Hegumen of
the St. James took place at daylight this morn
ing "—

"Yes," said Constantine, sighing at the sad re
minder, "I had intended to assist the Brotherhood.
But proceed."

"The Brothers, with large delegations from the
other Monasteries, were assembled at the tomb,
when Gennadius appeared, and began to preach,
and he wrought upon his hearers until they pushed
the coffin into the vault, and dispersed through the
streets, stirring up the people."

At this the Emperor yielded to his indignation.

' ' Now, by the trials and sufferings of the Most
Christian Mother, are we beasts insensible to de
struction ? Or idiots exempt from the penalties of
sin and impiety ? And he— that genius of unrest—
that master of foment — God o' Mercy, what has he
laid hold of to lead so many better men to betray
their vows and the beads at their belts ? Tell me —
speak — my patience is nearly gone."

For an instant, be it said, the much tried Sover
eign beheld a strong hand move within reach, as
offering itself for acceptance. No doubt he saw it as
it was intended, the symbol and suggestion of a pol
icy. Pity he did not take it ! For then how much
of mischance had been averted from himself — Con
stantinople might not have been lost to the Christian
world — the Greek Church had saved its integrity by
recognizing the union with the Latins consummated
at the Council of Florence — Christianity had not
been flung back for centuries in the East, its birth
place.

"Your Majesty," the officer returned, "I can re-

VOL. II. — 16

236

port what I heard, leaving its truth to investigation.
In his speech by the tomb Gennadius ad
mitted the a wf ulness of the crime attempted by De-
medes, and the justice of the punishment the young
man suffered, its swiftness proving it to have been
directed by Heaven ; but he declared its conception
was due to the Academy of Epicurus, and that there
remained nothing deserving study and penance ex
cept the continued toleration without which the un
godly institution had passed quickly, as plagues fly
over cities purified against them. The crime, he
said, was ended. Let the dead bury the dead. But
who were they responsible for grace to the Acad
emy ? And he answered himself, my Lord, by
naming the Church and the State."

" Ah ! He attacked the Church then ? "
"No, my Lord, he excused it by saying it had
been debauched by an azymite Patriarch, and while
that servant of prostitution and heresy controlled it,
wickedness would be protected and go on increas
ing."

' ' And the State— how dealt he with the State ? "
"The Church he described as Samson; the Patri
arch, as an uncomely Delilah who had speciously
shorn it of its strength and beauty ; the State, as a
political prompter and coadjutor of the Delilah; and
Rome, a false God seeking to promote worship unto
itself through the debased Church and State."

"God o' Mercy!" Constantine exclaimed, invol
untarily signing to the sword-bearer at his back ; but
recovering himself, he asked with forced modera
tion : "To the purpose of it all— the object. What
did he propose to the Brothers ? "

"He called them lovers of God in the livery of
Christ, and implored them to gird up their loins,

237

and stand for the religion of the Fathers, lest it per-
ish entirely."

" Did he tell them what to do ? "

"Yes, my Lord."

A wistful, eager look appeared on the royal face,
and behind it an expectation that now there would
be something to justify arrest and exile at least-
something politically treasonable.

"He referred next to the thanksgiving services
appointed to-day in Sancta Sophia, and declared it
an opportunity from Heaven, sent them and all the
faithful in the city, to begin a crusade for reform ;
not by resort to sword and spear, for they were
weapons of hell, but by refusing to assist the Patri
arch with their presence. A vision had come to him
in the night, he said— an angel of the Lord with the
Madonna of Blacherne— advising him of the Divine
will. Under his further urgency — and my Lord
knows his power of speech— the Brothers listening,
the St. James' and all present from the other Orders,
broke up and took to the streets, where they are
now, exhorting the people not to go to the Church,
and there is reason to believe they will "—

"Enough," said the Emperor, with sudden resolu
tion. " The good Gregory shall not pray God singly
and alone."

Turning to Phranza, he ordered him to summon
the court for the occasion. ' ' Let not one stay away, "
he continued; "and they shall put on their best
robes and whole regalia ; for, going in state myself,
I have need of their utmost splendor. It is my will,
further, that the army be drawn from their quarters
to the Church, men, music, and flags, and the navies
from their ships. And give greeting to the Patriarch^
and notify him, lest he make haste. Aside from

338

these preparations, I desire the grumblers be left to
pursue their course unmolested. The sincere and
holy amongst them will presently have return of
clear light."

This counter project was entered upon energeti
cally.

Shortly after noon the military bore down to the
old Church, braying the streets with horns, drums
and cymbals, and when they were at order in the
immense auditorium, their banners hanging unfurled
from the galleries, the Emperor entered, with his
court; in a word, the brave, honest, white-haired
Patriarch had company multitudinous and noble as
he could desire. None the less, however, Gennadius
had his way also— the people took no part in the
ceremony.

After the celebration, Coiistantine, in his chambers
up in Blacherne, meditated upon the day and its
outcome. Phranza was his sole attendant.

"My dear friend," the Emperor began, breaking
a long silence, and much disquieted, "was not my
predecessor, the first Constantine, beset with relig
ious dissensions ? "

"If we may credit history, my Lord, he certainly
was."

"How did he manage them ? "

" He called a Council."

" A Council truly— was that all ? "

" I do not recollect anything more."

"It was this way, I think. He first settled the
faith, and then provided against dispute. "

' ' How, my Lord ? "

" Well, there was one Arius, a Libyan, Presbyter
of a little church in Alexandria called Baucalis,
preacher of the Unity of God"-

" I remember him now."

" Of the Unity of God as opposed to the Trinity.
Him the first Constantine sent to prison for life, did
he not ? "

Thereupon Phranza understood the subject of his
master's meditation; but being- of a timid soul, emas
culated by much practice of diplomacy, usually a
tedious, waiting occupation, he hastened to reply:
' ' Even so, my Lord. Yet he could afford to be
heroic. He had consolidated the Church, and was
holding- the world in the hollow of his hand."

Constantine allowed a sigh to escape him, and
lapsed into silence; when next he spoke, it was to
say slowly:

"Alas, my dear friend! The people were not
there "—meaning1 at Sancta Sophia. ' ' I fear, I fear "—

"What, my Lord?"

Another sigh deeper than the first one: "I fear I
am not a statesman, but only a soldier, with nothing
to give God and my Empire except a sword and one
poor life."

These details will help the reader to a fair under
standing of the domestic involvements which over
took the Emperor about the time Mahommed
ascended the Turkish throne, and they are to be
considered in addition to the negotiations in progress
with the Sultan. And as it is important to give an
idea of their speeding, we remark further, that from
the afternoon of the solemnity in Sancta Sophia the
discussion then forced upon him went from bad to
worse, until he was seriously deprived both of popu
lar sympathy and the support of the organized relig
ious orders. The success of the solemnity in point
of display, and the measures resorted to, were not
merely offensive to Gennadius and his ally, the

340

Duke Notaras ; they construed them as a challenge
to a trial of strength, and so vigorously did they
avail themselves of their advantages that, before
the Emperor was aware of it, there were two distinct
parties in the city, one headed by Gennadius, the
other by himself and Gregory the Patriarch.

Month by month the bitterness intensified; month
by month the imperial party fell away until there
was little of it left outside the court and the army
and navy, and even they were subjected to incessant
inroads — until, finally, it came to pass that the Em
peror was doubtful whom to trust. Thereupon, of
course, the season for energetic repressive measures
vanished, never to return.

Personalities, abuse, denunciation, lying, and
sometimes downright blows took the place of debate
in the struggle. One day religion was an exciting
cause; next day, politics. Throughout it all, how
ever, Gennadius was obviously the master-spirit.
His methods were consummately adapted to the
genius of the Byzantines. By confining himself
strictly to the Church wrangle, he avoided furnish
ing the Emperor pretexts for legal prosecution; at
the same time he wrought with such cunning that
in the monasteries the very High Residence of
Blacherne was spoken of as a den of azymites,
while Sancta Sophia was abandoned to the Patri
arch. To be seen in the purlieus of the latter was a
signal for vulgar anathemas and social ostracism.
His habits meantime were of a sort to make him a
popular idol. He grew, if possible, more severely
penitential; he fasted and flagellated himself; he
slept on the stony floor before his crucifix; he sel
dom issued from his cell, and when visited there,
was always surprised at prayers, the burden of

241

which was forgiveness for signing the detested Arti
cles of Union with the Latins. The physical suffer
ing he endured was not without solace; he had
heavenly visions and was attended by angels. If in
his solitude he fainted, the Holy Virgin of Blacherne
ministered to him, and brought him back to life and
labor. First an ascetic, then a Prophet — such was
his progression.

And Constantine was a witness to the imposture,
and smarted under it ; still he held there was nothing
for him but to temporize, for if he ordered the seizure
and banishment of the all-powerful hypocrite, he
could trust no one with the order. The time was
dark as a starless night to the high-spirited but too
amiable monarch, and he watched and waited, or
rather watched and drifted, extending confidence to
but two counsellors, Phranza and the Princess Irene.
Even in their company he was not always comfort
able, for, strange to say, the advice of the woman
was invariably heroic, and that of the man invariably
weak and accommodating.

From this sketch the tendencies of the government
can be right plainly estimated, leaving the suspicion
of a difference between the first Constantine and the
last to grow as the evils grew.

CHAPTER III

MIRZA DOES AN" ERRAND FOR MAHOMMED

VEGETATION along- the Bosphorus was just issuing
from what may be called its budded state. In the
gardens and protected spots on the European side
white and yellow - winged butterflies now and then
appeared without lighting, for as yet there was noth
ing attractive enough to keep them. Like some
great men of whom we occasionally hear, they were
in the world before their time. In other words the
month of May was about a week old, and there was
a bright day to recommend it — bright, only a little
too much tinctured with March and April to be all
enjoyable. The earth was still spongy, the water
cold, the air crisp, and the sun deceitful.

About ten o'clock in the morning Coiistantino-
politans lounging on the sea-wall were surprised by
explosive sounds from down the Marmora. After-
while they located them, so to speak, on a galley off
St. Stephano. At stated intervals, pale blue smoke
would burst from the vessel, followed by a hurry -
skurry of gulls in the vicinity, and then the roar,
muffled by distance. The age of artillery had riot
yet arrived; nevertheless, cannon were quite well
known to fame. Enterprising traders from the West
had sailed into the Golden Horn with samples of the
new arm on their decks; they were of such rude con
struction as to be unfit for service other than salut-

243

ing.* So, now, while the idlers 011 the wall were
not alarmed, they were curious to make out who the
extravagant fellows were, and waited for the flag to
tell them.

The stranger passed swiftly, firing as it went; and
as the canvas was new and the hull freshly painted
in white, it rode the waves to appearances a very
beautiful " thing of life; " but the flag told nothing
of its nationality. There were stripes on it diago
nally set, green, yellow, and red, the yellow in the
middle.

"The owners are not Genoese" — such was the
judgment on the wall.

' ' No, nor Venetian, for that is not a lion in the
yellow."

"What, then, is it?"

Pursued thus, the galley, at length rounding
Point Serai 1 (Demetrius), turned into the harbor.
When opposite the tower of Galata, a last salute was
fired from her deck; then the two cities caught up
the interest, and being able to make out decisively
that the sign in the yellow field of the flag was but a
coat-of-arms, they said emphatically :

"It is not a national ship — only a great Lord ; "
and thereupon the question became self-inciting:

"Who is he?"

Hardly had the anchor taken hold in the muddy
bed of the harbor in front of the port of Blacherne,
before a small boat put off from the strange ship,
manned by sailors clad in flowing white trousers,
short sleeveless jackets, and red turbans of a style
remarkable for amplitude. An officer, probably
the sailing-master, went with them, and he, too,

* Cannon were first made of hooped iron, widest at the mouth. The
process of casting them was just coming in,

244

was heavily turbaned. A gaping crowd on the land
ing received the visitor when he stepped ashore and
asked to see the captain of the guard. To that dig
nitary he delivered a despatch handsomely enveloped
in yellow silk, saying, in imperfect Greek :

"My Lord, just arrived, prays you to read the en
closure, and send it forward by suitable hand. He
trusts to your knowledge of what the proprieties re
quire. He will await the reply on his galley. "

The sailing-master saluted profoundly, resumed
seat in his boat, and started back to the ship, leaving
the captain of the guard to open the envelope and
read the communication, which was substantially as
follows :

"From the galley, St. Agostino, May 5, Year of our Blessed
Saviour, 1451.

" The undersigned is a Christian Noble of Italy, more par
ticularly from his strong Castle Corti on the eastern coast of
Italy, near the ancient city of Brindisi. He offers lealty to His
Most Christian Majesty, the Emperor of Constantinople, De
fender of the Faith according to the crucified Son of God (to
whom be honor and praise forevermore), and humbly repre
sents that he is a well-knighted soldier by profession, having
won his spurs in battle, and taken the accolade from the hand of
Calixtus the Third, Bishop of Rome, and, yet more worthily, His
Holiness the Pope : that the time being peaceful in his country,
except as it was rent by baronial feuds and forays not to his
taste, he left it in search of employment and honors abroad ;
that he made the pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre first, and se
cured there a number of precious relics, which he is solicitous of
presenting to His Imperial Majesty ; that from long association
with the Moslems, whom Heaven, in its wisdom impenetrable
to the understanding of men, permits to profane the Holy
Land with their presence and wicked guardianship, he acquired
a speaking knowledge of the Arabic and Turkish languages;
that he engaged in warfare against those enemies of God, hav
ing the powerful sanction therefor of His Holiness aforesaid,
by whose direction he occupied himself chiefly with chastising

345

the Berber pirates of Tripoli, from whom he took prisoners,
putting them at his oars, where some of them now are. With
the august city of Byzantium he has been acquainted many
years through report, and, if its fame be truly published, he
desires to reside in it, possibly to the end of his days. Where
fore he presumes to address this his respectful petition, praying
its submission to His Most Christian Majesty, that he may be
assured if the proposal be agreeable to the royal pleasure, and
in the meantime have quiet anchorage for his galley.

UGO, COUNT CORTI."

In the eyes of the captain of the guard the paper
was singular, but explicit; moreover, the request
seemed superfluous, considering the laxity prevalent
with respect to the coming and going of persons of
all nativities and callings. To be sure, trade was not
as it used to be, and, thanks to the enterprise and
cunning of the Galatanese across the harbor, the
revenues from importations were sadly curtailed;
still the old city had its markets, and the world was
welcome to them. The argument, however, which
silenced the custodian's doubt was, that of the few
who rode to the gates in their own galleys and
kept them there ready to depart if their reception
were in the least chilling, how many signed them
selves as did this one ? Italian counts were famous
fighters, and generally had audiences wherever they
knocked. So he concluded to send the enclosure up
to the Palace without the intermediation of the High
Admiral, a course which would at least save time.

While the affair is thus pending, we may return to
Count Corti, and say an essential word or two of him.

The cannon, it is to be remarked, was not the only
novelty of the galley. Over the stern, where the
aplustre cast its shadow in ordinary crafts, there was
a pavilion-like structure, high-raised, flat-roofed, and
with small round windows in the sides. Quite likely

the progressive ship-builders at Palos and Genoa
would have termed the new feature a cabin. It was
beyond cavil an improvement; and on this occasion
the proprietor utilized it as he well might. Since the
first gun. off St. Stephano, he had held the roof, find
ing it the best position to get and enjoy a view of the
capital, or rather of the walls and crowned eminences
they had so long and ail-sufficiently defended. A
chair had been considerately brought up and put at
his service, but in witness of the charm the spectacle
had for him from the beginning, he did not once
resort to it.

If only to save ourselves description of the man,
and rescue him from a charge of intrusion into the
body of our story, we think it better to take the reader
into confidence at once, and inform him that Count
Corti is in fact our former acquaintance Mirza, the
Emir of the Hajj. The difference between his situa
tion now, and when we first had sight of him on his
horse under the yellow flag in the valley of Zaribah
is remarkable ; yet he is the same in one particular
at least — he was in armor then, and he is still in
armor — that is, he affects the same visorless casque,
with its cape of fine rings buckled under the chin, the
same shirt and overalls of pliable mail, the same shoes
of transverse iron scales working into each other
telescopically when the feet are in movement, the
same golden spurs, and a surcoat in every particular
like the Emir's, except it is brick-dust red instead of
green. And this constancy in armor should not be
accounted a vanity ; it was a habit acquired in the
school of arms which graduated him, and which he
persisted in partly for the inurement, and partly as
a mark of -respect for Mahommed, with whom the
gleam and clink of steel well fashioned and grace-

247

fully worn was a passion, out of which he evolved a
suite rivalling those kinsmen of the Buccleuch who —

" — quitted not their harness bright,
Neither by day nor yet by night."

Returning once again. It was hoped when Mirza
was first introduced that every one who might chance
to spend an evening over these pages would perceive
the possibilities he prefigured, and adopt him as a
favorite ; wherefore the interest may be more press
ing to know what he, an Islamite supposably with
out guile, a Janissary of rank, lately so high in his
master's confidence, is doing here, offering lealty to
the Most Christian Emperor, and denouncing the
followers of the Prophet as enemies of God. The
appearances are certainly against him.

The explanation due, if only for coherence in our
narrative, would be clearer did the reader review
the part of the last conversation in the White Castle
between the Prince of India and Mahommed, in which
the latter is paternally advised to study the Greek
capital, and keep himself informed of events within
its walls. Yet, inasmuch as there is a current in
reading which one once fairly into is loath to be
pushed out of, we may be forgiven for quoting a
material passage or two, . . . "There is much
for my Lord to do" — the Prince says, speaking to his
noble eleve. " It is for him to think and act as if Con
stantinople were his capital temporarily in possession
of another. . . . It is for him to learn the city
within and without ; its streets and edifices ; its hills
and walls ; its strong and weak places ; its inhabit
ants, commerce, foreign relations; the character of
its ruler, his resources and policies ; its daily events ;
its cliques, clubs, and religious factions ; especially

248

is it for him to foment the differences Latin and
Greek already a fire which has long been eating out
to air in an inflammable house. "... Mahommed,
it will be recollected, acceded to the counsel, and in
discussing the selection of a person suitable for the
secret agency, the Prince said: . . . "He who
undertakes it should enter Constantinople and live
there above suspicion. He must be crafty, intelli
gent, courtly in manner, accomplished in arms, of
high rank, and with means to carry his state bravely ;
for not only ought he to be conspicuous in the Hip
podrome ; he should be welcome in the salons and
palaces ; along with other facilities, he must be pro
vided to buy service in the Emperor's bedroom and
council chamber — nay, at his elbow. Mature of judg
ment, it is of prime importance that he possess my
Lord's confidence unalterably." . . . And when
the ambitious Turk demanded: "The man, Prince,
the man ! " — the wily tutor responded : ' ' My Lord has
already named him." — "I?" — "Only to-night my
Lord spoke of him as a marvel." — "Mirza?" . . .
The Jew then proceeded : ' ' Despatch him to Italy ;
let him appear in Constantinople, embarked from
a galley, habited like an Italian, and with a suit
able Italian title. He speaks Italian already, is fixed
in his religion, and in knightly honor. Not all the
gifts at the despot's disposal, nor the blandishments
of society can shake his allegiance — he worships my
Lord." . . .

Mahommed demurred to the proposal, saying: "So
has Mirza become a part of me, I am scarcely myself
without him."

Now he who has allowed himself to become inter
ested in the bright young Emir, and pauses to digest
these excerpts, will be aware of a grave concern for

249

him. He foresees the outcome of the devotion to
Mahommed dwelt upon so strongly by the Prince of
India, An order to undertake the secret service will
be accepted certainly as it is given. The very
assurance that it will be accepted begets solicitude
in the affair. Did Mahommed decide affirmatively ?
What were the instructions given ? Having thus
settled the coherences, we move on with the narra
tive.

It will be remembered, further, that close after the
departure of the Princess Irene from the old Castle,
Mahommed followed her to Therapia, and, as an
Arab story-teller, was favored with an extended pri
vate audience in which he extolled himself to her
at great length, and actually assumed the role of a
lover. What is yet more romantic, he came away
a lover in fact.

The- circumstance is not to be lightly dismissed,
for it was of immeasurable effect upon the fortunes
of the Emir, and — if we can be excused for connecting
an interest so stupendous with one so comparatively
trifling— the fate of Constantinople. Theretofore the
Turk's ambition had been the sole motive of his de
signs against that city, and, though vigorous, driv
ing, and possibly enough of itself to have pushed
him on, there might yet have been some delay in
the achievement. Ambition derived from genius is
cautious in its first movements, counts the cost, pon
ders the marches to be made and the means to be
employed, and is at times paralyzed by the simple
contemplation of failure; in other words, dread of
loss of glory is not seldom more powerful than the
hope of glory. After the visit to Therapia, however,
love reenforced ambition ; or rather the two passions
possessed Mahommed, and together they murdered

350

his sleep. He became impatient and irritable; the
days were too short, the months too long". Constan
tinople absorbed him. He thought of nothing else
waking, and dreamed of nothing else. Well for him
his faith in astrology, for by it the Prince of India
was able to hold him to methodic preparation.

There were times when he was tempted to seize the
Princess, and carry her off. Her palace was unde
fended, and he had but to raid it at night. Why
not ? There were two reasons, either of them suffi
cient: first, the stern old Sultan, his father, was a
just man, and friendly to the Emperor Constantine;
but still stronger, and probably the deterrent in fact,
he actually loved the Princess with a genuine ro
mantic sentiment, her happiness an equal motive —
loved her for herself — a thing perfectly consistent,
for in the Oriental idea there is always One the
Highest.

Now, it was very lover-like in Mahommed, his giv
ing himself 'up to thought of the Princess while glid
ing down the Bosphorus, after leaving his safeguard
on her gate. He closed his eyes against the mel
low light on the water, and, silently admitting her
the perfection of womanhood, held her image before
him until it was indelible in memory — face^ figure,
manner, even her dress and ornaments — until his
longing for her became a positive hunger of soul.

As if to give us an illustration of the mal-apropos
in coincidence, his august father had selected a bride
for him, and he was on the road to Adrianople to
celebrate the nuptials when he stopped at the White
Castle. The maiden chosen was of a noble Turkish
family, but harem born and bred. She might be
charming, a very queen in the Seraglio; but, alas!
the kinswoman of the Christian Emperor had fur-

351

nished a glimpse of attractions which the fiancee to
whom he was going could never attain — attractions
of mind and manner more lasting than those of mere
person; and as he finished the comparison, he beat
his breast, and cried out: "Ah, the partiality of the
Most Merciful! To clothe this Greek with all the
perfections, and deny her to me ! "

Withal, there was a method in Mahommed's pas
sion. Setting his face sternly against violating his
own safeguard by abducting the Princess, he fell
into revision of her conversation ; and then a light
broke in upon him — a light and a road to his object.

He recalled with particularity her reply to the
message delivered to her, supposably from himself,
containing his avowal that he loved her the more
because she was a Christian, and singled out of it
these words: . . . " A wife I might become, not
from temptation of gain or power, or in surrender to
love — I speak not in derision of the passion, since,
like the admitted virtues, it is from God — nay, Sheik,
in illustration of what may otherwise be of uncer
tain meaning to him, tell Prince Mahommed I might
become his wife could I, by so doing, save or help
the religion I profess."

This he took to pieces. ..." 'She might be
come a wife.' Good! . . . 'She might become
my wife '— 011 condition. . . . What condition ? "
. . . He beat his breast again, this time with a
laugh.

The rowers looked at him in wonder. What cared
he for them ? He had discovered a way to make her
his. . . . "Constantinople is the Greek Church,"
he muttered, with flashing eyes. ' ' I will take the
city for my own glory — to her then the glory of
saving the Church ! On to Constantinople ! "

VOL. II. — 17

252

And from that moment the fate of the vener
able metropolis may be said to have been finally
sealed.

Within an hour after his return to the White
Castle, he summoned Mirza, and surprised him by
the exuberance of his joy. He threw his arm over
the Emir's shoulder, and walked with him, laughing
and talking, like a man in wine. His nature was of
the kind which, for the escape of feeling-, required
action as well as words. At length he sobered down.

"Here, Mirza," he said. "Stand here before me.
. . . Thou lovest me, I believe ? "

Mirza answered upon his knee: "My Lord has
said it."

' ' I believe thee. . . . Rise and take pen and
paper, and write, standing here before me." *

From a table near by the materials were brought,
and the Emir, again upon his knees, wrote as his
master dictated.

The paper need not be given in full. Enough that
it covered with uncommon literalness — for the Con
queror's memory was prodigious — the suggestions
of the Prince of India already quoted respecting the
duties of the agent in Constantinople. While writ
ing, the Emir was variously moved ; one instant, his
countenance was deeply flushed, and in the next
very pale; sometimes his hand trembled. Ma-
hommed meantime kept close watch upon him, and
now he asked :

"What ails thee?"

"My Lord's will is my will," was the answer —
"yet"—

" Out — speak out."

* A Turkish calligraphist works on his feet as frequently as on a chair,
using a pen made of reed and India ink reduced to fluid.

253

"My Lord is sending me from him, and I dread
losing my place at his right hand."

Mahommed laughed heartily.

"Lay the fear betime," he then said, gravely.
* ' Where thou goest, though out of reach of my
right hand, there will my thought be. Hear — nay,
at my knee."

He laid the hand spoken of on Mirza's shoulder,
and stooped towards him. "Ah, my Saladin, thou
wert never in love, I take it ? Well — I am. Look
not up now, lest — lest thou think my bearded cheek
hath changed to a girl's."

Mirza did not look up, yet he knew his master was
blushing.

' ' Where thou goest, I would give everything but
the sword of Othman to be every hour of the day,
for she abideth there. ... I see a ring on thy
hand — the ruby ring I gave thee the day thou didst
unhorse the uncircumcised deputy of Hunyades.
Give it back to me. 'Tis well. See, I place it on the
third finger of my left hand. They say whoever
looketh at her is thenceforth her lover. I caution
thee, and so long as this ruby keepeth color un
changed, I shall know thou art keeping honor
bright with me — that thou lovest her, because thou
canst not help it, yet for my sake, and because I
love her. . . . Look up now, my falcon — look
up, and pledge me."

" I pledge my Lord," Mirza answered.

"Now I will tell thee. She is that kinswoman of
the Gabour Emperor Constantine whom we saw
here the day of our arrival. Or didst thou see her ?
I have forgotten."

"I did not, my Lord."

"Well, thou wilt know her at sight; for in grace

354

and beauty I think she must be a daughter of the
houri this moment giving immortal drink to the be
loved of Allah, even the Prophet."

Mahommed changed his tone.

"The paper and the pen."

And taking them he signed the instructions, and
the signature was the same as that on the safeguard
on the gate at Therapia.

' ' There— keep it well ; for when thou gettest to
Constantinople, thou wilt become a Christian."
He laughed again. "Mirza — the Mirza Mahommed
swore by, and appointed keeper of his heart's secret
— he a Christian! This will shift the sin of the
apostasy to me."

Mirza took the paper.

' ' I have not chosen to write of the other matter.
In what should it be written, if at all, except in my
blood — so close is it to me ? . . . These are the
things I expect of thee. Art thou listening ? She
shall be to thee as thine eye. Advise me of her
health, and where she goes; with whom she con
sorts ; what she does and says ; save her from harm ;
does one speak ill of her, kill him, only do it in
my name — and forget not, O my Saladin ! — as thou
hopest a garden and a couch in Paradise — forget not
that in Constantinople, when I come, I am to receive
her from thy hand peerless in all things as I left her
to-day. . . . Thou hast my will all told. I will
send money to thy room to-night, and thou wilt
leave to-night, lest, being seen making ready in the
morning, some idiot pursue thee with his wonder.
... As thou art to be my other self, be it royally.
Kings never account to themselves. . . . Thou
wantest now nothing but this signet."

From his breast he drew a large ring, its emerald

setting graven with the signature at the bottom of
the instructions, and gave it to him.

"Is there a Pacha or a Begler-bey, Governor of
a city or a province, property of my father, who
refuseth thy demand after showing him this, report
him, and Shintan will be more tolerable unto him
than I, when I have my own. It is all said. Go
now. . . . We will speak of rewards when next
we meet. . . . Or stay ! Thou art to communicate
by way of this Castle, and for that I will despatch a
man to thee in Constantinople. Remember — for
every word thou sendest me of the city, I look for
two of her. . . . Here is my hand,"

Mirza kissed it, and departed.

CHAPTER IV

THE EMIR IIS" ITALY

WE know now who Count Corti is, and the ob
jects of his coming to Constantinople — that he is
a secret agent of Mahommed — that, summed up in
the fewest words, his business is to keep the city in
observation, and furnish reports which will be use
ful to his master in the preparation the latter is mak
ing for its conquest. We also know he is charged
with very peculiar duties respecting the Princess
Irene.

The most casual consideration of these revelations
will make it apparent, in the next place, that here
after the Emir must be designated by his Italian
appellative in full or abbreviated. Before forsak
ing the old name, there is lively need of informa
tion, whether as he now stands on the deck of his
galley, waiting the permissions prayed by him of
the Emperor Constaiitine, he is, aside from title, the
same Mirza lately so honored by Mahommed.

From the time the ship hove in sight of the city,
he had kept his place on the cabin. The sailors,
looking up to him occasionally, supposed him bound
by the view, so motionless he stood, so steadfastly
he gazed. Yet in fact his countenance was not ex
pressive of admiration or rapture. A man with
sound vision may have a mountain just before him
and not see it ; he may be in the vortex of a battle

257

deaf to its voices ; a thought or a feeling can occupy
him in the crisis of his life to the exclusion of every
sense. If perchance it be so with the Emir now, he
must have undergone a change which only a power
ful cause could have brought about. He had been
so content with his condition, so proud of his fame
already won, so happy in keeping prepared for the
opportunities plainly in his sight, so satisfied with
his place in his master's confidence, so delighted
when that master laid a hand upon his shoulder and
called him familiarly, now his Saladin, and now his
falcon.

Faithfully, as bidden, Mirza sallied from the White
Castle the night of his appointment to the agency in
Constantinople. He spoke to no one of his inten
tion, for he well knew secrecy was the soul of the
enterprise. For the same reason, he bought of a
dervish travelling with the Lord Mahommed's suite
a complete outfit, including the man's donkey and
donkey furniture. At break of day he was beyond
the hills of the Bosphorus, resolved to skirt the
eastern shore of the Marmora and Hellespont, from
which the Greek population had been almost entirely
driven by the Turks, and at the Dardanelles take
ship for Italy direct as possible— a long route and
trying— yet there was in it the total disappearance
from the eyes of acquaintances needful to success in
his venture. His disguise insured him from interrup
tion on the road, dervishes being sacred characters
in the estimation of the Faithful, and generally
too poor to excite cupidity. A gray-f rocked man,
hooded, coarsely sandalled, and with a blackened
gourd at his girdle for the alms he might receive
from the devout, no Islamite meeting him would
ever suspect a large treasure in the ragged bundle

258

on the back of the patient animal plodding behind
him like a tired dog.

The Dardanelles was a great stopping-place for
merchants and tradesmen, Greek, Venetian, Gen
oese. There Mirza provided himself with an Italian
suit, adopted the Italian tongue, and became Italian.
He borrowed a chart of the coast of Italy from a
sailor, to determine the port at which it would be
advisable for him to land.

While settling this point, the conversation had
with the Prince of India in the latter's tent at Zari-
bah arose to mind, and he recalled with particularity
all that singular person said with reference to the
accent observable in his speech. He also went over
the description he himself had given the Prince of
the house or castle from which he had been taken
in childhood. A woman had borne him outdoors,
under a blue sky, along a margin of white sand, an
orchard on one hand, the sea on the other. He
remembered the report of the waves breaking on
the shore, the olive-green color of the trees in the
orchard, and the battlemented gate of the castle;
whereupon the Prince said the description reminded
him of the eastern shore of Italy in the region of
Brindisi.

It was a vague remark certainly; but now it made
a deeper impression on the Emir than at the moment
of its utterance and pointed his attention to Brindisi.
The going to Italy, he argued, was really to get
a warrant for the character he was to assume in
Constantinople ; that is, to obtain some knowledge
of the country, its geography, political divisions,
cities, rulers, and present conditions generally, with
out which the slightest cross-examination by any
of the well-informed personages about the Emperor

259

would shatter his pretensions in an instant. Then it
was he fell into a most unusual mood.

Since the hour the turbaned rovers captured him
he had not been assailed by a desire «to see or seek
his country and family. Who was his father ?
Was his mother living- ? Probably nothing could
better define the profundity of the system under
lying the organization of the Janissaries than that
he had never asked those questions with a genuine
care to have them solved. What a suppression
of the most ordinary instincts of nature! How
could it have been accomplished so completely ? As
a circumstance, its tendency is to confirm the theory
that men are creatures of education and association.
Was his mother living ? Did she remember
him ? Had she wept for him ? What sort of being
was she ? If living, how old would she be ? And he
actually attempted a calculation. Calling himself
twenty-six, she might not be over forty-five. That
was not enough to dim her eyes or more than
slightly silver her hair ; and as respects her heart,
are not the affections of a mother flowers for culling
by Death alone ?

Such reflections never fail effect. A tenderness of
spirit is the first token of their presence; then mem
ory and imagination begin striving; the latter to
bring the beloved object back, and the former to
surround it with sweetest circumstances. They
wrought with Mirza as with everybody else. The
yearning they excited in him was a surprise ; pres
ently he determined to act on the Prince of India's
suggestion, and betake himself to the eastern coast
of Italy.

The story of the sack of a castle was of a kind to
have wide circulation ; at the same time this one was

260

recent enough to be still in the memory of persons
living. Finding the place of its occurrence was the
difficulty. If in the vicinity of Brindisi — well, he
would go and ask. The yearning spoken of did not
come alone; it had for companion, Conscience, as yet
in the background.

There were vessels bound for Venice. One was
taking in water, after which it would sail for
Otranto. It seemed a fleet craft, with a fair crew,
and a complement of stout rowers. Otranto was
south of Brindisi a little way, and the castle he
wanted to hear of might have been situated between
those cities. Who could tell ? Besides, as an Italian
nobleman, to answer inquiry in Constantinople, he
would have to locate himself somewhere, and possi
bly the coast in question might accommodate him
with both a location and a title. The result was he
took passage to Otranto.

While there he kept his role of traveller, but was
studious, and picked up a great fund of information
bearing upon the part awaiting him. He lived and
dressed well, and affected religious circles. It was
the day when Italy was given over to the nobles—
the day of robbers, fighting, intrigues and usurpa
tions — of free lances and bold banditti — of govern
ment by the strong hand, of right determinable by
might, of ensanguined Guelphs and Ghibellines. Of
these the Emir kept clear.

By chance he fell in with an old man of secondary
rank in the city much given to learning, an habitue
of a library belonging to one of the monasteries.
It came out ere long that the venerable person was
familiar with the coast from Otranto to Brindisi,
and beyond far as Polignano.

"It was in my sturdier days," the veteran said,

261

with a dismal glance at his shrunken hands. "The
people along1 the shore were much harried by Moslem
pirates. Landing from their galleys, the depredators
burned habitations, slew the men, and carried off
such women as they thought would fetch a price.
They even assaulted castles. At last we were driven
to the employment of a defensive guard cooperative
on land and water. I was a captain. Our fights
with the rovers were frequent and fierce. Neither
side showed quarter."

The reminiscence stimulated Mirza to inquiry.
He asked the old man if he could mention a castle
thus attacked.

' ' Yes, there was one belonging to Count Corti,
a few leagues beyond Brindisi. The Count defended
himself, but was slain."

" Had he a family ?"

"A wife and a boy child."

" What became of them ? "

" By good chance the Countess was in Brindisi at
tending a fete; she escaped, of course. The boy, two
or three years of age, was made prisoner, and never
heard of afterwards."

A premonition seized Mirza.

" Is the Countess living ? "

"Yes. She never entirely recovered from the
shock, but built a house near the site of the castle,
and clearing a room in the ruins, turned it into
a chapel. Every morning and evening she goes
there, and prays for the soul of her husband, and
the return of her lost boy."

" How long is it since the poor lady was so bereft ? "

The narrator reflected, and replied: " Twenty-two
or three years."

" May the castle be found ? "

262

"Yes."

" Have you been to it ?"

" Many times."

" How was it named ? "

"After the Count— II Castillo di Corti."

" Tell me something- of its site."

"It is down close by the sea. A stone wall sepa
rates its front enclosure from the beach. Sometimes
the foam of the waves is dashed upon the wall.
Through a covered gate one looks out, and all is
water. Standing 011 the tower, all landward is or
chard and orchard — olive and almond trees inter
mixed. A great estate it was and is. The Countess,
it is understood, has a will executed ; if the boy does
not return before her death, the Church is to be her
legatee."

There was more of the conversation, covering a
history of the Corti family, honorable as it was old —
the men famous warriors, the women famous beau
ties.

Mirza dreamed through the night of the Countess,
and awoke with a vague consciousness that the wife
of the Pacha, the grace of whose care had been about
him in childhood — a good woman, gentle and tender
— was after all but a representative of the mother
who had given him birth, just as 011 her part every
mother is mercifully representative of God. Under
strong feeling he took boat for Brindisi.

There he had no trouble in confirming the state
ments of his Otranto acquaintance. The Countess
was still living, and the coast road northwardly
would bring him to the ruins of her castle. The
journey did not exceed five leagues.

What he might find at the castle, how long he
would stay, what do, were so uncertain — indeed

everything in the connection was so dependent
upon conditions impossible of foresight, that he
resolved to set out on foot. To this course he was
the more inclined by the mildness of the weather,
and the reputation of the region for freshness and
beauty.

About noon he was fairly on the road. Persons
whom he met — and they were not all of the peasant
class — seeing a traveller jaunty in plumed cap, light
blue camail, pointed buskins, and close-fitting hose
the color of the camail, sword at his side, and javelin,
in hand, stayed to observe him long as he was in
sight, never dreaming they were permitted to behold
a favorite of one of the bloody Mahounds of the
East.

Over hill and down shallow vales; through stone-
fenced lanes; now in the shade of old trees; now
along a seashore partially overflowed by languid
waves, he went, lighter in step than heart, for he
was in the mood by no means uncommon, when the
spirit is prophesying evil unto itself. He was sen
sible of the feeling, and for shame would catch the
javelin in the middle and whirl it about him defen
sively until it sung like a spinning-wheel ; at times
he stopped and, with his fingers in his mouth,
whistled to a small bird as if it were a hunting
hawk high in air.

Once, seeing a herd of goats around a house
thatched and half-hidden in vines, he asked for
milk. A woman brought it to him, with a slice of
'brown bread ; and while he ate and drank, she stared
at him in respectful admiration ; and when he paid
her in gold, she said, courtesying low: "A glad life
to my Lord ! I will pray the Madonna to make the
wish good." Poor creature! She had no idea she

364

was blessing- one in whose faith the Prophet was
nearer God than God's own Son.

At length the road made an abrupt turn to the
right, bringing him to a long stretch of sandy beach.
Nearly as he could judge, it was time for the castle
to appear, and he was anxious to make it before sun
down. Yet in the angle of the wood he saw a way
side box of stone sheltering an image of the Virgin,
with the Holy Child in its arms. Besides being
sculptured better than usual, the figures were cov
ered with flowers in wreath and bouquet. A dressed
slab in front of the structure, evidently for the
accommodation of worshippers, invited him to rest,
and he took the seat, and looking up at the mother,
she appeared to be looking at him. He continued
his gaze, and presently the face lost its stony appear
ance — stranger still, it smiled. It was illusion, of
course, but he arose startled, and moved on with
quickened step. The impression went with him.
Why the smile? He did not believe in images;
much less did he believe in the Virgin, except as she
was the subject of a goodly story. And absorbed in
the thought, he plodded on, leaving the sun to go
down unnoticed.

Thereupon the shadows thickened in the woods at
his left hand, while the sound of the incoming waves
at his right increased as silence laid its velvet finger
with a stronger compress on all other pulsations.
Here and there a star peeped timidly through the
purpling sky — now it was dusk — a little later, it
would be night — and yet no castle!

He pushed on more vigorously ; not that he was
afraid — fear and the falcon of Mahommed had never
made acquaintance — but he began to think of a bed
in the woods, and worse yet, he wanted the fast-

going daylight to help him decide if the castle when
he came to it were indeed the castle of his fathers.
He had helieved all along, if he could see the pile
once, his memory would revive and help him to
recognition.

At last night fell, and there was darkness trebled
on the land, and on the sea darkness, except where
ghostly lines of light stretched themselves along the
restless water. Should he go on ? . . .

Then he heard a bell— one soft tone near by and
silvery clear. He halted. Was it of the earth ? A
hush deeper of the sound— and he was wondering if
another illusion were not upon him, when again the
bell!

"Oh!" he muttered, "a trick of the monks in
Otranto ! Some soul is passing."

He pressed forward, guided by the tolling. Sud
denly the trees fell away, and the road brought him
to a stone wall heavily coped. On further, a black
ened mass arose in dim relief against the sky, with
heavy merlons on its top.

" It is the embattled gate! " he exclaimed, to him
self— "the embattled gate!— and here the beach! —
and, O Allah! the waves there are making the re
ports they used to ! "

The bell now tolled with awful distinctness, filling
him with unwonted chills — tolled, as if to discourage
his memory in its struggle to lift itself out of a lapse
apparently intended to be final as the grave— tolled
solemnly, as if his were the soul being rung into the
next life. A rush of forebodings threatened him
with paralysis of will, and it was only by a strong
exertion he overcame it, and brought himself back to
the situation, and the question, What next ?

Now Mirza was not a man to forego a purpose

266

lightly. Emotional, but not superstitious, he tried
the sword, if it were loose in the scabbard, and then,
advancing the point of his javelin, entered the dark
ened gallery of the gate. Just as he emerged from
it on the inner side, the bell tolled.

"A Moslem doth not well," he thought, silently
repeating a saying of thejadis, ' ' to accept a Christian
call to prayer; but," he answered in self-excuse, "I
am not going to prayer — I am seeking " — he stopped,
for very oddly, the face of the Virgin in the stone box
back in the angle of the road presented itself to him,
and still more oddly, he felt firmer of purpose seeing
again the smile on the face. Then he finished the
sentence aloud — " my mother who is a Christian."

There was a jar in the conclusion, and he went
back to find it, and having found it, he was surprised.
Up to that moment, he had not thought of his mother
a Christian. How came the words in his mouth
now ? Who prompted them ? And while he was
hastily pondering the effect upon her of the discov
ery that he himself was an Islamite, the image in
the box reoccurred to him, this time with the child
in its arms; and thereupon the mystery seemed to
clear itself at once. ' ' Mother and mother ! " he said.
' ' What if my coming were the answer of one of
them to the other's prayer ? "

The idea affected him ; his spirit softened ; the heat
of tears sprang to his eyelids; and the effort he
made to rise above the unmanliness engaged him
so he failed to see the other severer and more last
ing struggle inevitable if the Countess were indeed
the being to whom he owed the highest earthly
obligations — the struggle between natural affection
and honor, as the latter lay coiled up in the ties
binding him to Mahomrned.

267

The condition, be it remarked, is ours ; for from that
last appearance of the image by the wayside— from
that instant, marking a new era in his life — often as
the night and its incidents recurred to him, he had
never a doubt of his relationship to the Countess.
Indeed, not only was she thenceforward his mother,
but all the ground within the gate was his by natal
right, and the castle was the very castle from which
he had been carried away, over the body of his
heroic father — he was the Count Corti!

These observations will bring the reader to see
more distinctly the Emir's state after passing the
gate. Of the surroundings, he beheld nothing but
shadows more or less dense and voluminous; the
mournful murmuring of the wind told him they be
longed to trees and shrubbery in clumps. The road
he was on, although blurred, was serviceable as a
guide, and he pursued it until brought to a building
so masked by night the details were invisible. Fol
lowing its upper line, relieved against the gray sky,
he made out a broken front and one tower massively
battlemented. A pavement split the road in two;
crossing it, he came to an opening, choked with
timbers and bars of iron ; surmisably the front por
tal at present in disuse. He needed no explana
tion of its condition. Fire and battle were familiars
of his.

The bell tolled on. The sound, so passing sweet
elsewhere, seemed to issue from the yawning portal,
leaving him to fancy the interior a lumber of floors,
galleries, and roofs in charred tumble down.

Mirza turned away presently, and took the left

branch of the road; since he could not get into the

castle, he would go around it; and in doing so, he

borrowed from the distance traversed a conception

VOL. n.— 18

268

of its immensity, as well as of the importance the
countship must have enjoyed in its palmy days.

At length he gained the rear of the great pile.
The wood there was more open, and he was pleased
with the sight of lights apparently gleaming through
windows, from which he inferred a hamlet pitched
on a broken site. Then he heard singing; and lis
tening, never had human voices seemed to him so
impressively solemn. Were they coming or going ?
Ere long a number of candles, very tall, and
screened from the wind by small lanterns of trans
parent paper, appeared on the summit of an ascent ;
next moment the bearers of the candles were in view
—boys bareheaded and white f rocked. As they be
gan to descend the height, a bevy of friars succeeded
them, their round faces and tonsured crowns glisten
ing in ruddy contrast with their black habits. A
choir of four singers, three men and one woman, fol
lowed the monks. Then a linkman in half armor
strode across the summit, lighting the way for a
figure, also in black, which at once claimed Mirza's
gaze.

As he stared at the figure, the account given him
by the old captain in Otranto flashed upon his mem
ory. The widow of the murdered count had cleared
a room in the castle, and fitted it up as a chapel, and
every morning and evening she went thither to pray
for the soul of her husband and the return of her
lost boy.

The words were alive with suggestions; but sug
gestions imply uncertainty; wherefore they are not
a reason for the absolute conviction with which the
Emir now said to himself :

" It is she— the Countess— my mother! "

There must be in every heart a store of prevision

269

of which we are not aware — occasions bring it out
with such sudden and bewildering effect.

Everything — hymn, tolling bell, lights, boys,
friars, procession — was accessory to that veiled,
slow-marching figure. And in habiliment, move
ment, air, with what telling force it impersonated
sorrow ! On the other hand, how deep and consum
ing the sorrow itself must be !

She — he beheld only her — descended the height
without looking up or around — a little stooped, yet
tall and of dignified carriage — not old nor yet young
— a noble woman worthy reverence.

While he was making these comments, the proces
sion reached the foot of the ascent ; then the boys
and friars came between, and hid her from his view.

"O Allah! and thou his Prophet!" he exclaimed.
" Am I not to see her face ? Is she not to know me ? "

Curiously the question had not presented itself be
fore ; neither when he resolved to come, nor while
on the way. To say truth, he had been all the
while intent on the one partial object — to see her.
He had not anticipated the awakening the sight
might have upon his feelings.

' ' Am I not to discover myself to her ? Is she never
to know me ? " he repeated.

The lights in the hands of the boys were beginning
to gleam along a beaten road a short distance in front
of the agitated Emir conducting to the castle. He
divined at once that the Countess was coming to the
chapel for the usual evening service, and that, by
advancing to the side of the road, he could get a near
view of her as she passed. He started forward im
pulsively, but after a few steps stopped, trembling
like a child imagining a ghost.

Now our conception of the man forbids us think-

270

ing him overcome by a trifle, whether of the air or
in the flesh. A change so extreme must have been
the work of a revelation of quick and powerful
consequence — and it was, although the first mention
may excite a smile. In the gleam of mental light
ning — we venture on the term for want of another
more descriptive — he had been reminded of the busi
ness which brought him to Italy.

Let us pause here, and see what the reminder
means; if only because the debonair Mirza, with
whom we have been well pleased, is now to be
come another person in name and character, com
manding our sympathies as before, but for a very
different reason.

This was what the lightning gave him to see, and
not darkly: If he discovered himself to the Countess,
he must expose his history from the night the rovers
carried him away. True, the tale might be given
generally, leaving its romance to thrill the motherly
heart, and exalt him the more; for to whom are
heroes always the greatest heroes ? Unhappily steps
in confession are like links in a chain, one leads to
another. . . . Could he, a Christian born, tell
her he was an apostate ? Or if he told her, would it
not be one more grief to the many she was already
breaking under — one, the most unendurable ? And
as to himself, how could he more certainly provoke
a forfeiture of her love ? . . . She would ask — if
but to thank God for mercies — to what joyful acci
dent his return was owing ? And then ? Alas ! with
her kiss on his brow, could he stand silent ? More
grievous yet, could he deceive her ? If nothing is so
murderous of self-respect as falsehood, a new life
begun with a lie needs no prophet to predict its end.
No, he must answer the truth. This conviction was

271

the ghost which set him trembling-. An admission
that he was a Moslem would wound her, yet the
hope of his conversion would remain— nay, the labor
in making the hope good might even renew her in
terest in life; but to tell her he was in Italy to assist
in the overthrow of a Christian Emperor for the
exaltation of an infidel— God help him ! Was ever
such a monster as he would then become in her
eyes ? . . . The consequences of that disclosure,
moreover, were not to the Countess and himself
merely. With a sweep of wing one's fancy is alone
capable of, he was borne back to the White Castle,
and beheld Mahommed. When before did a Prince,'
contemplating an achievement which was to ring
the world, give trust with such absoluteness of faith ?
Poor Mirza ! The sea rolled indefinitely wide between
the White Castle and this one of his fathers; across
it, nevertheless, he again heard the words: "As thou
art to be my other self, be it royally. Kings never
account to themselves." If they made betrayal hor
rible in thought, what would the fact be ?
Finally, last but not least of the reflections the light
ning laid bare, the Emir had been bred a soldier, and
he loved war for itself and for the glory it offered
unlike every other glory. Was he to bid them both
a long farewell ?

Poor Mirza ! A few paragraphs back allusion was
made to a struggle before him between natural affec
tion on one hand and honor on the other. Perhaps
it was obscurely stated; if so, here it is amended, and
stripped of conditions. He has found his mother.
She is coming down the road— there, behind the dan
cing lights, behind the friars, she is coming to pray for
him. Should he fly her recognition or betray his
confiding master? Room there may be to say the

272

alternatives were a judgment upon him, but who
will deny him pity? . . . There is often a suffer
ing*, sometimes an agony, in indecision more wearing
than disease, deadlier than sword-cuts.

The mournful pageant was now where its lights
brought out parts of the face of the smoke-stained
building. With a loud clang a door was thrown
open, and a friar, in the black vestments usual in
masses for the dead, came out to receive the Countess.
The interior behind him was dully illuminated. A
few minutes more, and the opportunity to see her
face would be lost. Still the Emir stood irresolute.
Judge the fierceness of the conflict in his breast!

At last he moved forward. The acolytes, with
their great candles of yellow wax, were going by as
he gained the edge of the road. They looked at him
wonderiiigly. The friars, in Dominican cassocks,
stared at him also. Then the choir took its turn.
The linkman at sight of him stopped an instant,
then marched on. The Emir really beheld none
of them; his eyes and thoughts were in waiting;
and now — how his heart beat! — how wistfully he
gazed! — the Countess was before him, not three
yards away.

Her garments, as said, were all black. A thick veil
enveloped her head; upon her breast her crossed
hands shone ivory white. Two or three times the
right hand, in signing the cross, uncovered a ring
upon the left— the wedding ring probably. Her
bearing was of a person not so old as persecuted by an
engrossing anguish. She did not once raise her face.

The Emir's heart was full of prayer.

-"O Allah! It is my mother! If I may not
speak to her, or kiss her feet— if I may not call her
mother — if I may not say, mother, mother, behold,

273

I am thy son come back — still, as thou art the Most
Merciful ! let me see her face, and suffer her to see
mine — once, O Allah ! once, if nevermore ! "

But the face remained covered — and so she passed,
but in passing she prayed. Though the voice was
low, he heard these words: "Oh, sweet Mother!
By the Blessed Son of thy love and passion, remem
ber mine, I beseech thee. Be with him, and bring
him to me quickly. Miserable woman that I am ! "

The world, and she with it, swam in the tears he no
longer tried to stay. Stretching his arms toward her,
he fell upon his knees, then upon his face ; and that
the face was in the dust, he never minded. When
he looked up, she was gone on, the last of the pro
cession. And he knew she had not seen him.

He followed after. Everybody stood aside to let
her enter the door first. The friar received her ; she
went in, and directly the linkman stood alone out
side.

"Stay!" said the linkman, peremptorily. "Who
art thou?"

Thus rudely challenged, the Emir awoke from his
daze — awoke with all his faculties clear.

"A gentleman of Otranto," he replied.

"What is thy pleasure? "

"Admit me to the chapel."

"Thou art a stranger, and the service is private.
Or hast thou been invited?"

"No."

" Thou canst not enter."

Again the world dropped into darkness before
Mirza; but this time it was from anger. The link
man never suspected his peril. Fortunately for him,
the voice of the female chorister issued from the
doorway in tremulous melody. Mirza listened, and

274

became tranquillized. The voice sank next into a
sweet unearthly pleading, and completely subdued,
he began arguing with himself. . . . She had
not seen him while he was in the dust at her side,
and now this repulse at the door — how were they
to be taken except as expressions of the will of
Heaven ? . . . There was plenty of time— better
go away, and return — perhaps to-morrow. He
was not prepared to prove his identity, if it were
questioned. . . . There would be a scene, and
he shrank from it. ... Yes, better retire
now. . . . And he turned to go. Not six steps
away, the Countess reappeared to his excited mind,
exactly as she had passed praying for him — reap
peared —

. . . "like the painting of a sorrow."

A revulsion of feeling seized him — he halted. Oh,
the years she had mourned for him ! Her love was
deep as the sea ! Tears again — and without thought
of what he did — all aimlessly — he returned to the
door.

' ' This castle was sacked and burned by pirates,
was it not ? " he asked the linkman.

"Yes."

" They slew the Count Corti? "

"Yes."

"And carried off his son?"

"Yes."

"Had he other children? "

"No."

"What was the name of the boy? "

"Ugo."

' ' Well — in thy ear now — thou didst not well in
shutting me out — I am that Ugo"

275

Thereupon the Emir walked resolutely away.

A cry, shrill and broken, overtook him, issuing
apparently from the door of the chapel — a second
time he heard it, more a moan than a shriek — and
thinking the linkman had given the alarm, he quick
ened his pace to a run, and was soon out on the
beach.

The breath of the sea was pleasant and assuring,
and falling into a walk, he turned his face toward
Brindisi. But the cry pursued him. He imagined
the scene in the chapel — the distress of the Countess
—-the breaking up of the service— the hurry of ques
tion — a consultation, and possibly search for him.
Every person in the procession but the Countess
had seen him ; so the only open point in the affair
was the one of directest interest to her: Was it
her son ?

Undoubtedly the suffering lady would not rest
until investigation was exhausted. Failing to find
the stranger about the castle, horsemen might be
sent out on the road. There is terrible energy
in mother-love. These reflections stimulated the
Emir to haste. Sometimes he even ran; only at
the shrine of the Virgin and Child in the angle
of the road did he halt. There he cast himself
upon the friendly slab to recover breath.

All this of course indicated a preference for
Mahommed. And now he came to a decision.
He would proceed with the duty assigned him
by the young master; then, at the end, he
would come back, and assert himself in his native
land.

He sat on the slab an hour or more. At in
tervals the outcry, which he doubted not was his
mother's, rang in his ears, and every time he heard

276

it, conscience attacked him with its whip of countless
stings. Why subject her to more misery ? For
what other outcome could there be to the ceaseless
contention of fears and hopes now hers ? Oh, if
she had only seen him when he was so near her
in the road! That she did not, was the will of
Allah, and the fatalistic Mohammedan teaching-
brought him a measure of comfort. In further
sooth, he had found a location and a title. Thence
forward, and not fictitiously, he was the Count
Corti ; and so entitling himself, he determined to
make Brindisi, and take ship for Genoa or Venice
in the morning before a messenger could arrive
from the castle.

As he arose from the slab, a bird in housel for the
night flew out of the box. Its small cheep reminded
him of the smile he had fancied on the face of the
Madonna, and how, a little later, the smile had,
with such timely suggestion of approval, woven
itself into his thought of the Countess. He looked
up at the face again ; but the night was over it like
a veil, and he went nearer, and laid his hand
softly on the Child. That which followed wras not
a miracle ; only a consequence of the wisdom which
permits the enshrinement of a saintly woman and
Holy Child as witnesses of the Divine Goodness to
humanity. He raised himself higher in the box,
and pushing aside a heap of faded floral offerings,
kissed the foot of the taller image, saying: "Thus
would I have done to my mother." And when he
had climbed down, and was in the road, it seemed
some one answered him: "Go thy way! God and
Allah are the same."

We may now urge the narrative.

From Brindisi the Emir sailed to Venice. Two

277

weeks in "the glorious city in the sea " informed him
of it thoroughly. While there, he found, on the
" ways1' of an Adriatic builder, the galley in which
we have seen him at anchor in the Golden Horn.
Leaving an order for the employment of a sailing-
master and crew when the vessel was complete, he
departed next for Rome. At Padua he procured the
harness of a man-at-arms of the period, and recruited
a company of condottieri — mercenary soldiers of
every nationality. With all his sacerdotal author
ity, Nicholas V., the Holy Father, was sorely tried
in keeping his States. The freebooters who unct
uously kissed his hand to-day, did not scruple, if
opportunity favored, to plunder one of his towns to
morrow. It befell that Count Corti — so the Emir
styled himself — found a Papal castle beleaguered
by marauders, whom he dispersed, slaying their
chief with his own hand. Nicholas, in public
audience, asked him to name the reward he pre
ferred.

"Knighthood at thy hands, first of all things,"
was the reply.

The Holy Father took a sword from one of his
officers, and gave him the accolade.

"What next, my son ? "

" I am tired fighting men who ought to be Chris
tians. Give me, I pray, thy commission to make
war upon the Barbary pirates who infest the
seas."

This was granted him.

"What next?"

"Nothing, Holy Father, but thy blessing, and a
certificate in good form, and under seal, of these
favors thou hast done me."

The certificate and the blessing were also granted.

278

The Count then dismissed his lances, and, hasten
ing to Naples, embarked for Venice. There he sup
plied himself with suits of the finest Milanese armor
he could obtain, and a wardrobe consisting of cos
tumes such as were in vogue with the gay gal
lants along the Grand Canal. Crossing to Tripoli,
he boarded a Moorish merchantman, and made
prisoners of the crew and rowers. The prize he
gave to his Christian sailors, and sent them home.
Summoning his prisoners on deck, lie addressed
them in Arabic, offering them high pay if they
would serve him, and they gratefully accepted his
terms.

The Count then directed his prow to what is now
Aleppo, with the purpose of procuring Arab horses;
and having purchased five of the purest blood, he
made sail for Constantinople.

We shall now, for a time, permit the title Emir to
lapse. The knight we have seen on the deck of the
new arrival in the Golden Horn viewing with mel
ancholy interest the cities on either side of the fair
est harbor on earth, is in easy English speech, Count
Corti, the Italian.

Thus far the Count had been successful in his
extraordinary mission, yet he was not happy. He
had made three discoveries during his journey — his
mother, his country, his religion. Ordinarily these
relations— if we may so call them— furnish men
their greatest sum of contentment; sadly for him,
however, he had made a fourth finding, of itself suf
ficient to dash all the others— in briefest term, he
was not in condition to acknowledge either of them.
Unable to still the cry heard while retiring from
his father's ruined castle, he surrendered himself
more and more to the wisdom brought away from

279

the box of the Madonna and Child in the angle
of the road to Brindisi— God and Allah are the
same. Conscience and a growing sense of mis
appropriated life were making Count Corti a very
different person from the light-hearted Emir of
Mahommed.

CHAPTER V

THE PRINCESS IRENE IN TOWN

AN oblong room divided in the middle crosswise
by two fluted pillars of pink-stained marble, light,
delicately capped, and very graceful — between the
pillars a segmental arch — between the walls and the
pillars square ties; — the wall above the pillars elab
orately scrolled ;— three curtains of woollen stuff
uniformly Tyrian dyed filling the open places —
the central curtain drawn to the pillars, and held
there by silken ropes richly tasselled — the side cur
tains dropped;— a skylight for each division of the
room, and under each skylight an ample brazier
dispensing a comfortable degree of warmth; — floor
laid in pink and saffron tiles;— chairs with and
without arms, some upholstered, all quaintly carved
— to each chair a rug harmoniously colored ; — mas
sive tables of carven wood, the tops of burnished
copper inlaid with blocks of jasper, mostly red and
yellow — on the tables murrhine pitchers vase-shaped,
with crystal drinking goblets about them ; — the sky
lights conical and of clear glass; — the walls pan
elled, a picture in every panel, and the raised mar
gins and the whole space outside done in arabesque
of studied involution ; — doors opposite each other
and bare; — such was the reception-room in the
town-house of the Princess Irene arranged for the
winter.

281

On an armless chair in one of the divisions of the
beautiful room, the Princess sat, slightly bending
over a piece of embroidery stretched upon a frame.
What with the accessories about her — the chair, a
small table at her right covered with the bright ma
terials in use, the slanted frame, and a flexible lion's
skin under her feet — she was a picture once seen
never forgotten. The wonderful setting of the head
and neck upon the Phidian shoulders was admirably
complemented by the long arms, bare, round, and of
the whiteness of an almond kernel freshly broken,
the hands, blue-veined and dimpled, and the fingers,
tapering, pliant, nimble, rapid, each seemingly pos
sessed of a separate intelligence.

To the left of the Princess, a little removed, Lael
half reclined against a heap of cushions, pale, lan
guid, and not wholly recovered from the effects of
the abduction by Demedes, the terrible doom which
had overtaken her father, and the disappearance of
the Prince of India, the latter unaccountable except
upon the hypothesis of death in the great fire. The
dying prayer of the son of Jahdai had not failed
with the Princess Irene. Receiving the unfortunate
girl from Sergius the day after the rescue from the
cistern, she accepted the guardianship, and from
that hour watched and tended her with maternal
solicitude.

The other division of the room was occupied by
attendants. They were visible through the opening
left by the drawn curtain ; yet it is not to be supposed
they were under surveillance ; on the contrary, their
presence in the house was purely voluntary. They
read, sang, accepted tasks in embroidery from their
mistress, accompanied her abroad, loved her — in a
word, their service was in every respect compatible

with high rank, and in return they derived a certain
education from her. For by universal acknowledg
ment she was queen and arbiter in the social world
of Byzantium; in manner the mirror, in taste and
fashion its very form. Indeed, she was the subject
of but one objection — her persistent protest against
the encumbrance of a veil.

With all her grave meditation, she never lectured
her attendants, knowing probably that sermons in
example are more impressive than sermons in words.
In illustration of the freedom they enjoyed in her
presence and hearing, one of them, behind the cur
tain, touched a stringed instrument — a cithern — and
followed the prelude with a song of Anacreontic
vein.

THE GOLDEN NOON.

If my life were but a day —

One morn, one night,
With a golden noon for play,]

And I, of right,
Could say what I would do
With it— what would I do?

Penance to me — e'en the stake,

And late or soon! —
Yet would Love remain to make

That golden noon
Delightful— I would do—
Ah, Love, what would I do?

And when the singer ceased there was a merry
round of applause.

The ripple thus awakened had scarcely subsided,
when the ancient Lysander opened one of the doors,
and, after ringing the tiled floor with the butt of his
javelin, and bowing statelywise, announced Sergius.

383

Taking- a nod from the Princess, he withdrew to give
the visitor place.

Sergius went first to Irene, and silently kissed her
hand; then, leaving her to resume work, he drew a
chair to Lael's side.

Under his respectful manner there was an ease
which only an assurance of welcome could have
brought him. This is not to be taken in the sense
of familiarity ; if he ever indulged that vulgarism —
something quite out of character with him — it was
not in his intercourse with the Princess. She did
not require formality; she simply received courtesy
from everybody, even the Emperor, as a natural
tribute. At the same time, Sergius was nearer in her
regard than any other person, for special reasons.

We have seen the sympathetic understanding be
tween the two in the matter of religion. We have
seen, also, why she viewed him as a protege. Never
had one presented himself to her so gentle and un
conventional — never one knowing so little of the
world. With life all before him, with its ways to
learii, she saw he required an adviser through a
period of tutelage, and assumed the relation partly
through a sense of duty, partly from reverent recol
lection of Father Hilarion. These were arguments
sound in themselves; but two others had recently
offered.

In the first place she was aware of the love which
had arisen between the monk and Lael. She had
not striven to spy it out. Like children, they had
affected no disguise of their feeling; and while dis
allowing the passion a place in her own breast, she
did not deprecate or seek to smother it in others.
Far from that, in these, her wards, so to speak,
it was with her an affair of permissive interest.
VOT>. IT. — 19

284

They were so lovable, it seemed an order of nature
they should love each other.

Next, the world was dealing harshly with Sergius ;
and though he strove manfully to hide the fact, she
saw he Avas suffering. He deserved well, she thought,
for his rescue of Lael, and for the opportunity given
the Emperor to break up the impiety founded
by Demedes. Unhappily her opinion was not sub
scribed in certain quarters. The powerful Brother
hood of the St. James' amongst others wras in an
extreme state of exasperation with him. They in
sisted he could have achieved the rescue without the
death of the Greek. They went so far as to accuse
him of a double murder — of the son first, then of the
father. A terrible indictment ! And they were bold
and open-mouthed. Out of respect for the Emperor,
who was equally outspoken in commendation of
Sergius, they had not proceeded to the point of ex
pulsion. The young man was still of the Brother
hood; nevertheless he did not venture to exercise
any of the privileges of a member. His cell was
vacant. The five services of the day were held in
the chapel without him. In short, the Brotherhood
were in wait for an opportunity to visit him with
their vengeance. In hope of a favorable turn in the
situation, he wore the habit of the Order, but it was
his only outward sign of fraternity. Without em
ployment, miserable, he found lodgment in the resi
dence of the Patriarch, and what time he was not
studying, he haunted the old churches of the city,
Sancta Sophia in especial, and spent many hours
a dreaming voyager on the Bosphorus.

The glad look which shone in the eyes of the inva
lid when Sergius took seat by her was very notice
able; and when she reached him her hand, the kiss

385

he left upon it was of itself a declaration of tender
feeling-.

"I hope my little friend is better, to-day," he said,
gravely.

' ' Yes, much better. The Princess says I may go
out soon — the first real spring day."

"That is good news. I wish I could hurry the
spring. I have everything ready to take you 011
the water — a perfect boat, and two master rowers.
Yesterday they carried me to the Black Sea and back,
stopping for a lunch of bread and figs at the foot of
the Giants' Mountain. They boast they can repeat
the trip often as there are days in the week."

" Did you stop at the White Castle ? " she asked,
with a smile.

" No. Our noble Princess was not with me; and
in her absence, I feared the Governor might forget
to be polite as formerly."

The gracious lady, listening, bent lower over the
frame before her. She knew so much more of the
Governor than Lael did! But Lael then inquired:
"Where have you been to-day ? "

"Well, my little friend, let me see if I can interest
you. . . . This morning I awoke betimes, and
set myself to study. Oh, those chapters of John —
the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth. There is no
need of religious knowledge beyond them. Of the
many things they make clear, this is the clearest —
the joys of eternal life lie in the saying of the
Lord, ' I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life ;
no man cometh unto the Father but by Me. ' . . .
After my hours of study, I went to see an old church
over in the low garden grounds beyond the aque
duct. Before I could get through the doorway, a
flock of goats had to pass out. I will tell His Seren-

ity what I beheld. Better the wreck be cleaned
from the face of the earth than desecrated. Holy
ground once, holy ground forever."

"Where is the Church ? " the Princess inquired.

"In the low grounds between the aqueduct, and
the gates of St. Romain and Adrianople."

"It belongs to one of the Brotherhoods. They
have farming right in the soil."

" I am sorry to hear it."

As she turned to her work again, he went on with
his account of himself.

"I had then two hours and more till noon, and
was at loss what to do. Finally I decided to go to
the Port of Blacherne — a long walk, but not too long,
considering my motive. . . . Princess, have you
heard of the Italian newly arrived ? "

"What of him, pray?"

" He is the talk of the city, and if the half told of
him be true, we must needs wonder. He travels in
his own ship. Merchants have that habit, but he is
not a merchant. Kings do so, but he is not a king.
He came in saluting with a gun, in style becoming a
great admiral ; but if he is an admiral, his nationality
is a secret. He also flies an unknown flag. They
report him further as standing much on his deck in
a suit of armor glistening like silver. And what is
he ? Mouth speaketh unto mouth, with no one to
answer. They go then to his ship, pronouncing it
the most perfect thing of the kind ever seen in the
harbor. Those who have rowed around it say the
sailors are not white men, but dark-faced creatures
in turbans and black beards, un-Christian and ugly-
looking. Fishermen and fruiterers have been per
mitted on deck — nobody else — and they, returning
alive, say the rowers, of whom they caught glimpses,

387

are blacker than the sailors. They also overheard
strange noises below — voices not human."

The countenance of the Princess during this recital
gradually changed ; she seemed disposed to laugh at
the exaggerations of the populace.

' ' So much for town-talk, " Sergius continued. ' ' To
get sight of the ship, and of the mysterious magnate,
I walked across the city to the Port of Blacherne,
and was well rewarded. I found the ship drawn in
to the quay, and the work of unloading her in
progress. Parties of porters were attacking heaps of
the cargo already on the landing. Where they were
taking the goods I could not learn. I saw five horses
lifted out of the hold, and led ashore over a bridge
dropped from the vessel's side. Such horses I never
before beheld. Two were grays, two bays, and one
chestnut-colored. They looked at the sun with wide-
open unwinking eyes; they inhaled the air as it
were something to drink; their coats shone like silk;
their manes were soft like the hair of children ; their
tails flared out in the breeze like flags ; and every
body exclaimed : ' Arabs, Arabs ! ' There was a
groom for each horse — tall men, lean, dust-hued,
turbaned, and in black gowns. At sight of the
animals, an old Persian who, from his appearance,
might have been grandfather of the grooms, begged
permission — I could not understand the tongue he
used — put his arms around the necks of the animals,
and kissed them between the eyes, his own full of
tears the while. I suppose they reminded him of
his own country. . . . Then two officers from
the palace, representatives doubtless of the Emperor,
rode out of the gate in armor, and immediately the
stranger issued from his cabin, and came ashore. I
confess I lost interest in the horses, although he went

to them and scanned them over, lifting- their feet
and tapping- their hoofs with the handle of a dag-g-er.
By that time the two officers were dismounted;
and approaching- with great ceremony, they notified
him they had been sent by His Majesty to receive
and conduct him to assigned quarters. He replied
to them in excellent Greek, acknowledging His
Majesty's graciousness, and the pleasure he would
have in their escort. From the cabin, two of his
men brought a complete equipment, and placed it on
the chestnut steed. The furniture was all sheen of
satin and gold. Another attendant brought his
sword and shield ; and after the sword was buckled
around him, and the shield at his back, he took hold
of the saddle with both hands, and swung himself
into the seat with an ease remarkably in contrast
with the action of his Greek conductors, who, in
mounting, were compelled to make use of their
stirrups. The cavalcade then passed the gate into
the city. "

"You saw him closely ?" Lael asked.

" To get to his horse, he passed near me as I am to
you, my little friend."

"What did he wear?"

' ' Oh, he was in armor. A cap of blue steel, with a
silver spike on the crown — neck and shoulders cov
ered with a hood of mail — body in a shirt of mail,
a bead of silver in each link — limbs to the knees in
mail. From the knees down there were splints of
steel inlaid with silver ; his shoes were of steel, and on
the heels long golden spurs. The hood was clasped
under the chin, leaving the face exposed — a handsome
face, eyes black and bright, complexion olive, though
slightly bloodless, expression pleasant."

" How old is he ?"

"Twenty-six or seven. Altogether he reminded
me of what I have heard of the warriors who used to
go crusading:"

"What following had he ? "
This was from the Princess.

" I can only speak of what I saw— of the keepers of
the horses, and of the other men, whom, in my un
familiarity with military fashions, I will call equerry,
armorer, and squire or page. What accounting is to
be made of the ship's company, I leave, O Princess, to
your better knowledge."

"My inquiry was of his personal suite."
' ' Then I cannot give you a better answer ; but if I
may say so much, the most unusual thing observable
in his followers was, they were all Orientals— not one
of them had a Christian appearance."

"W^ell" — and the Princess laid her needle down
for the first time—" I see how easily a misunderstand
ing of the stranger may get abroad. Let me tell what
I know of him. . . . 'Directly he arrived, he de
spatched a letter to His Majesty, giving an account of
himself. He is a soldier by profession, and a Chris
tian ; has spent much time in the Holy Land, where
he acquired several Eastern languages ; obtained per
mission from the Pontiff Nicholas to make war on
the African pirates ; manned his galley with captives ;
and, not wishing to return to his native land and
engage in the baronial wars which prevail there at
present, he offered his services to His Majesty. He
is an Italian nobleman, entitled Count Corti, and
submitted to His Majesty a certificate, under the hand
and seal of the Holy Father, showing that the Holy
Father knighted him, and authorized his crusade
against the infidels. The preference for a following
composed of Orientals is singular ; but after all, it is

290

only a matter of taste. The day may come, dear Ser-
gius, when the Christian world will disapprove his
method of getting- title to servants ; but it is not here
now. ... If further discussion of the Count takes
place in your presence, you are at liberty to tell what
I tell you. At Blacherne yesterday I had the partic
ulars, together with the other circumstance, that the
Emperor gladly accepted the Italian's overture, and
assigned him quarters in the Palace of Julian, with
leave to moor his galley in the port there. Few noble
foreigners have sought our Empire bringing better
recommendations. "

The fair lady then took up her needle, and
was resuming work, when Lysander entered, and,
after thumping the floor, announced : " Three
o'clock."

The Princess silently arose, and passed out of the
room; at the same time there was a commotion be
hind the curtain, and presently the other apartment
was vacated. Sergius lingered a moment.

"Tell me now of yourself," Lael said, giving him
her hand.

He kissed the hand fondly, and replied : ' ' The clouds
still hang low and dark over me; but my faith is
not shaken ; they will blow away ; and in the mean
time, dear little friend, the world is not all cheerless
— you love me. "

"Yes, I love you," she said, with childish sim
plicity.

"The Brotherhood has elected a new Hegumen,"
he continued.

" A good man, I hope."

' ' The violence with which he denounced me was
the chief argument in his favor. But God is good.
The Emperor, the Patriarch, and the Princess Irene

291

remain steadfast. Against them the Hegumen will
be slow in proceeding to my expulsion. I am not
afraid. I will go on doing what I think right. Time
and patience are good angels to the unjustly accused.
But that any one should hold it a crime to have res
cued you— O little friend, dear soul ! See the live coal
which does not cease burning ! "
"AndNilo?"

" He wants nothing in the way of comforts."
' ' I wrill go see the poor man the first thing w^hen I
get out. "

" His cell in the Cyiiegioii is well furnished. The
officer in charge has orders direct from the Emperor
to see that he suffers no harm. I saw him day before
yesterday. He does not know why he is a prisoner,
but behaves quietly. I took him a supply of tools,
and he passes the time making things in use in his
country, mostly implements of war and hunting. The
walls of his cell are hung with bowrs, arrows and
lances of such curious form that there is always quite
a throng to see them. He actually divides honor
with Tamerlane, the king of the lions."
" It should be a very noble lion for that."
Sergius, seeing her humor, went on : ' ' You say
truly, little friend. He has in hand a net of strong
thread and thousands of meshes already. ' What is it
for ? ' I asked. In his pantomimic way he gave me to
understand : ' In my country we hunt lions with it. '
' How ? ' said I. And he showed me two balls of
lead, one in each corner of the net. Taking the balls
in his hands : ' Now we are in front of the game — now
it springs at us — up they go this way. ' He gave the
balls a peculiar toss which sent them up and forward
on separating lines. The woven threads spread out
in the air like a yellow mist, and I could see the result

— the brute caught in the meshes, and entangled.
Then the brave fellow proceeded with his pantomime.
He threw himself to one side out of the way of the
leap — drew a sword, and stabbed and stabbed — and the
triumph in his face told me plainly enough, ' There —
he is dead ! ' Just now he is engaged on another
work scarcely less interesting to him. A dealer in
ivory sent him an elephant's tusk, and he is covering
it with the story of a campaign. You see the war
riors setting out on the march — in another picture
they are in battle — a cloud of arrows in flight — shields
on arm— bows bent — and a forest of spears. From
the large end he is working down toward the point.
The finish will be a victory, and a return with cap
tives and plunder immeasurable. . . . He is well
cared for ; yet he keeps asking me about his master
the Prince of India. Where is he ? When will he
come ? When he turns to that subject I do not need
words from him. His soul gets into his eyes. I tell
him the Prince is dead. He shakes his head: 'No,
no ! ' and sweeping a circle in the air, he brings his
hands to his breast, as to say : ' No, he is travelling —
he will come back for me.' "

Sergius had become so intent upon the description
that he lost sight of his hearer ; but now a sob recalled
him. Bending lower over the hand, he caressed it
more assiduously than ever, afraid to look into her
face. When at length the sobbing ceased, he arose
and said, shamefacedly :

' ' O dear little friend, you forgive me, do you not ? "

From his manner one would have thought he had
committed an offence far out of the pale of condone-
ment.

" Poor Sergius," she said. " It is for rne to think
of you, not you of me."

He tried to look cheerful.

"It was stupid in me. I will be more careful.
Your pardon is a sweet gift to take away. . . .
The Princess is going to Sancta Sophia, and she may
want me. To-morrow— until to-morrow— good-by. "

This time he stooped, and kissed her on the fore
head ; next moment she was alone.

CHAPTER VI
COUNT COETI IN SANCTA SOPHIA

THE Palace of Julian arose the chief embellish
ment of a large square enclosure on the sea front
southeast of the landmark at present called the Burnt
Column, and, like other imperial properties of the
kind, it was an aggregation of buildings irregular in
form and style, and more or less ornate and imposing.
A garden stretched around it. The founder, wanting
private harborage for his galleys and swarm of lesser
boats, dug a basin just inside the city wall, and
flooded it with pure Marmoran water; then, for in
gress and egress at his sovereign will, he slashed the
wall, and of the breach made the Port of Julian *

Count Corti found the Palace well preserved in and
out. He had not purposed hiding himself, yet it was
desirable to keep his followers apart much as possi
ble ; and for that a situation more to his wish could
scarcely have been chosen in the capital.

Issuing from the front door, a minute's walk through
a section of the garden brought him to a stairway de
fended on both sides with massive balustrading. The
flight ended in a spacious paved landing; whence,
looking back and up, he could see two immense col
umnar pedestals surmounted by statues, while for-

* Only a shallow depression in the ground, faintly perpetuating the
outlines of the harbor, now marks the site of this royal residence.

295

ward extended the basin, a sheet of water on which,
white and light as a gull, his galley rested. He
had but to call the watchman on its deck, and a
small boat would come to him in a trice. He con
gratulated himself upon the lodgement.

The portion of the Palace assigned him was in the
south end; and, although he enlisted a number of
skilful upholsterers, a week and more was indus
triously taken with interior arrangements for himself,
"and in providing for the comfort and well-being of
his horses; for it is to be said in passing, he had
caught enough of the spirit of the nomadic Turk to
rate the courser which was to bear him possibly
through foughten fields amongst the first in his affec
tions. In this preparation, keeping the scheme to
which his master had devoted him ever present, he
required no teaching to point out the policy of giving
his establishment an air of permanence as well as
splendor.

Occupied as he was, he had nevertheless snatched
time to look in upon the Hippodrome, and walk once
around the Bucoleon and Sancta Sophia. From a
high pavilion overhanging his quarters, he had sur
veyed the stretches of city in the west and southwest,
sensible of a lively desire to become intimately ac
quainted with the bizarre panorama of hills behind
hills, so wonderfully house and church crowned.

To say truth, however, the Count was anxious to
hear from the Sultan before beginning a career. The
man who was to be sent to him might appear any
hour, making it advisable to keep close home. He
had a report of the journey to Italy, and of succeed
ing events, including his arrival at Constantinople,
ready draughted, and was impatient to forward it. A
word of approval from Mahommecl would be to him

296

like a new spirit given. He counted upon it as a
cure for his melancholia.

Viewing the galley one day, he looked across the
basin to where the guard of the Port was being
changed, and was struck with the foreign air of the
officer of the relief. This, it happened, was singu
larly pertinent to a problem which had been dis
turbing his active mind — how he could most safely
keep in communication with Mahommed, or, more
particularly, how the Sultan's messenger could come
with the most freedom and go with the least hin
drance. A solution now presented itself. If the Em
peror intrusted the guardianship of the gate to one
foreigner, why not to another? In other words, why
not have the duty committed to himself and his peo
ple? Not improbably the charge might be proposed
to him ; he would wait awhile, and see ; if, however,
he had to formally request it, could anything be more
plausibly suggestive than the relation between the
captaincy of that Port and residence in the Palace of
Julian? The idea was too natural to be refused; if
granted, he was master of the situation. It would
be like holding the keys of the city. He could send
out and admit as need demanded ; and then, if flight
became imperative, behold a line of retreat! Here
was his galley — yonder the way out.

While he pondered the matter, a servant brought
him notice of an officer from 5lacherne in waiting.
Responding immediately, he found our ancient friend
the Dean in the reception room, bringing the an
nouncement that His Majesty the Emperor had ap
pointed audience for him next day at noon ; or, if the
hour was not entirely convenient, would the Count
be pleased to designate another ? His Majesty was
aware of the attention needful to a satisfactory set-

297

tlement in strange quarters, and had not interrupted
him earlier ; for which he prayed pardon.

The Count accepted the time set; after which he
conducted his visitor through his apartments, omitting
none of them ; from the kitchen lie even carried him
to the stable, whence he had the horses brought one
by one. Hospitality and confidence could go no
further, and he was amply rewarded. The impor
tant functionary was pleased with all he saw, and
with nothing more than Corti himself. There could
not be a doubt of the friendliness of the report
he would take back to Blacherne. In short, the
Count's training in a court dominated by suspicion to
a greater degree even than the court in Constantinople
was drawn upon most successfully. A glass of wine
at parting redolent with the perfume of the richest
Italian vintage fixed the new-comer's standing in the
Dean's heart. If there had been the least insufficiency
in the emblazoned certificate of the Holy Father,
here was a swift witness in confirmation.

The day was destined to be eventful to the Count.
While he was entertaining the Dean, the men 011
the deck of the galley, unused to Byzantine customs,
were startled by a cry, long, swelling, then mourn
fully decadent. Glancing in the direction from
which it came, they saw a black boat sweeping
through the water-way of the Port. A man of dubi
ous complexion, tall and lithe, his scant garments
originally white, now stiff with dirt of many hues,
a ragged red head-cloth illy confining his coarse
black hair, stood in the bow shouting, and holding up
a wooden tray covered with fish. The sentinel to
whom he thus offered the stock shook his head, but
allowed him to pass. At the galley's side there was
an interchange of stares between the sailors and the

fishermen — such the tenants of the black craft were
— leaving it doubtful which side was most astonished.
Straightway the fellow in the bow opened conversa
tion, trying several tongues, till finally he essayed
the Arabic.

"Who are you ?"

" Sailors."

"Where from ?"

"Tripoli."

" Children of the Prophet ? "

"We believe in Allah and the Last Day, and
observe prayer, and pay the appointed alms, and
dread none but Allah; we are among the rightly
guided."*

"Blessed be Allah ! May his name be exalted here
and everywhere!" the fisherman returned; adding
immediately: "Whom serve you?"

"A Scherif from Italy."

' ' How is he called ? "

"The Count."

"Where is he?"

" In the Palace yonder."

" A Christian ?"

"A Christian with an Eastern tongue; and he
knows the hours of prayer, and observes them."

" Does he reside here ? "

" He is Lord of the Palace."

"When did he arrive ? "

"Since the moon fulled."

' ' Does he want fish ? "

The men on the ship laughed.

"Go ask him."

" That is his landing there ? "

"Yes."

* Koran, IX. 18.

" All men who live down by the sea eat fish — when
they can get them," the dealer said, solemnly. Turn
ing then to his rowers, he bade them : ' ' Forward to
the landing."

There he stepped out, dextrous! y balanced the tray
on his head, ascended the stairs, and in front of the
great house went persistently from door to door until
he came to that of the Count.

"Fish?" he asked the man who answered his
knock.

"I will see."

The doorkeeper returned shortly, and said, "No."

"Are you a Moslem ? " the fisherman inquired.

' ' Yes. Blessed be Allah for the right understand
ing!"

' ' So am I. Now let me see the master. I want to
furnish him with fish for the season."

' ' He is engaged. "

"I will wait for him. Tell him my catch is this
morning's — red mullets and choice cuts from a royal
sword-fish that leaped ten feet in the air with the
spear in his back. "

Thereupon he deposited the tray, and took seat by
it, much as to say, Time is of no consequence to me.
Ere long the Count appeared with the Dean. He
glanced at the tray, then at the fisherman — to the
latter he gave a second look.

"What beautiful fish! " he said, to the Dean.

' ' Yes, yes — there are no fish pastures like those of
our Bosphorus."

" How do you call this kind ? "

" Mullets — red mullets. The old Romans used to
fatten them in tanks."

"I thought I had seen their like on our Italian
coasts. How do you prepare them for the table ? "
VOL. n.— 30

300

'4 We fry them, Count, in olive oil— pure oil."

All this time Corti was studying the fisherman.

" What meal, pray, will fashion allow them to me
dished ? " he went on.

"For breakfast especially; though when you come
to dine with His Majesty do not be surprised to see
them early in course."

"Pardon the detention, my Lord— I will make trial
of these in the morning. " Then to the fisherman the
Count said, carelessly: "Keep thy place until I re
turn. "

Corti saw the Dean out of the eastern gate of the
enclosure, and returned.

' ' What, still here ! " he said, to the dealer. ' ' Well,
go with the doorkeeper to the kitchen. The cook will
take what he needs for to-morrow." Speaking to the
doorkeeper then : ' ' Bring the man to me. I am fond
of fishing, and should like to talk with him about his
methods. Sometime he may be willing to take me
with him."

By and by the monger was shown into the Count's
room, where there was a table, with books and writing
material — a corner room full lighted by windows in
the south and east. When they were alone, the two
gazed at each other.

"All, son of Abed-din!" said the Count. "Is it
thou ? "

"O Emir! All of me that is not fish is the Ali
thou hast named."

" God is great! " the first exclaimed.

" Blessed be God ! " the other answered.

They were acquaintances of long standing.

Then Ali took the red rag from his head, and from
its folds produced a strip of fine parchment with
writing on it impervious to water.

801

" Behold, Emir! It is for thee."

The Count received the scrip and read :

" This is he I promised to send. He has money for thee.
Thou mayst trust him. Tell me this time of thyself first ; then
of her ; but always after of her first. My soul is scorching with
impatience."

There was no date to the screed nor was it signed ;
yet the Count put it to his forehead and lips. He
knew the writing1 as he knew his own hand.

"0 AH!" he said, his eyes aglow. "Hereafter
thou shalt be Ali the Faithful, son of Abed-din the
Faithful."

Ali replied with a rueful look : " It is well. What
a time I have had waiting for you ! Much I fear my
bones will never void the damps blown into them by
the winter winds, and I perched on the cross-sticks of
a floating dallyan. ... I have money for you,
O Emir ! and the keeping it has given me care more
than enough to turn another man older than his
mother I will bring it to-morrow; after which I
shall say twenty prayers to the Prophet — blessed be
his name! — where now I say one."

' ' No, not to-morrow, Ali, but the day after when
thou bringest me another supply of fish. There is
danger in coming too often — and for that, thou must
go now. Staying too long is dangerous as coming
too often. . . . But tell me of our master. Is he
indeed the Sultan of Sultans he promised to be ? Is
he well ? Where is he ? What is he doing ? "

"Not so fast, O Emir, not so fast, I pray you!
Better a double mouthful of stale porpoise fat, with a
fin bone in it, than so many questions at once."

' ' Oh, but I have been so long in the slow-moving
Christian world without news ! "

302

"Verily, O Emir, Padishah Mahommed will be
greatest of the Gabour eaters since Padishah Othman
— that to your first. He is well. His bones have
reached their utmost limit, but his soul keeps grow
ing — that to your second. He holds himself at
Adrianople. Men say he is building mosques. I
say he is building cannon to shoot 'bullets big as his
father's tomb; when they are fired, the faithful at
Medina will hear the noise, and think it thunder —
that to your third. And as to his doing — getting
ready for war, meaning business for everybody, from
the Shiek-ul-Islam to the thieving tax-farmers of
Bagdad — to the Kislar- Jinn of Abad-on with them !
He has the census finished, and now the Pachas go
listing the able-bodied, of whom they have half a
million, with as many more behind. They say the
young master means to make a sandjak of unbeliev
ing Europe.1'

" Enough, Ali! — the rest next time."

The Count went to the table, and from a secret
drawer brought a package wrapped in leather, and
sealed carefully.

"This for our Lord — exalted be his name! How
wilt thou take it ? "

Ali laughed.

"In my tray to the boat, but the fish are fresh, and
there are flowers of worse odor in Cashmere. So,

0 Emir, for this once. Next time, and thereafter,

1 will have a hiding-place ready."

' ' Now, Ali, farewell. Thy name shall be sweet in
our master's ears as a girl-song to the moon of Rama-
zan. I will see to it. "

Ali took the package, and hid it in the bosom of his
dirty shirt. When he passed out of the front door, it
lay undistiiiguishable under the fish and fish-meat j

and he whispered to the Count in going : "I have an
order from the Governor of the White Castle for my
unsold stock. God is great!"

Corti, left alone, flung himself on a chair. He
had word from Mahommed — that upon which he
counted so certainly as a charm in counteraction of
the depression taking possession of his spirit. There
it was in his hand, a declaration of confidence unheard
of in an Oriental despot. Yet the effect was wanting.
Even as he sat thinking the despondency deepened.
He groped for the reason in vain. He strove for cheer
in the big war of which Ali had spoken — in the roar of
cannon, like thunder in Medina — in Europe a Sultanic
sandjak. He could only smile at the exaggeration.
In fact, his trouble was the one common to every fine
nature in a false position. His business was to deceive
and betray — whom ? The degradation was casting
its shadow before. Heaven help when the eclipse
should be full!

For relief he read the screed again : ' ' Tell me this
time of thyself first ; then of fee?*." . . . Ah, yes,
the kinswoman of the Emperor! He must devise a
way to her acquaintance, and speedily. And casting
about for it, he became restless, and finally resolved
to go out into the city. He sent for the chestnut
Arab, and putting on the steel cap and golden spurs
had from the Holy Father was soon in the saddle.

It was about three o'clock afternoon, with a wind
tempered to mildness by a bright sun. The streets
were thronged, while the balconies and overhang
ing windows had their groups on the lookout for
entertainment and gossip. As may be fancied the
knightly rider and gallant barb, followed by a dark-
skinned, turbaned servant in Moorish costume, at
tracted attention.

304

Neither master nor man appeared to give heed to
the eager looks and sometimes over-loud questions
with which they were pursued.

Turning northward presently, the Count caught
sight of the dome of Sancta Sophia. It seemed to
him a vast, upturned silver bowl glistening in the
sky, and he drew rein involuntarily, wondering how
it could be upheld ; then he was taken with a wish to
go in, and study the problem. Having heard from
Mahommed, he was lord of his time, and here was
noble diversion.

In front of the venerable edifice, he gave his horse
to the dark-faced servant, and entered the outer court
unattended.

A company, mixed apparently of every variety of
persons, soldiers, civilians, monks," and women, held
the pavement in scattered groups ; and while he halted
a moment to survey the exterior of the building, cold
and grimly plain from cornice to base, he became
himself an object of remark to them. About the same
time a train of monastics, bareheaded, and in long
gray gowns, turned in from the street, chanting mo
notonously, and in most intensely nasal tones. The
Count, attracted by their pale faces, hollow eyes and
unkept beards, waited for them to cross the court.
Unkept their beards certainly were, but not white.
This was the beginning of the observation he after
ward despatched to Mahommed : Only the walls of
Byzantium remain for her defence; the Church has
absorbed her young men ; the sword is discarded for
the rosary. Nor could he help remarking that whereas
the frati of Italy were fat, rubicund, and jolly, these
seeemed in search of death through the severest peni
tential methods. His thought recurring to the house
again, he remembered having heard how every hour

305

of every day from five o'clock in the morning to mid
night was filled with religious service of some kind in
Sancta Sophia.

A. few stone steps the full length of the court
led up to five great doors of bronze standing wide
open; and as the train took one of the latter and
began to disappear, he chose another, and walked
fast in order to witness the entry. Brought thus
into the immense vestibule, he stopped, and at once
forgot the gray brethren. Look where he might, at
the walls, and now up to the ceiling, every inch of
space wore the mellowed brightness of mosaic wrought
in cubes of glass exquisitely graduated in color.
What could he do but stand and gaze at the Christ in
the act of judging the world ? Such a cartoon had
never entered his imagination. The train was gone
when he awoke ready to proceed.

There were then nine doors also of bronze conduct
ing from the vestibule. The central and larger one
was nearest him. Pushed lightly, it swung open on
noiseless hinges; a step or two, and he stood in the
nave or auditorium of the Holy House.

The reader will doubtless remember how Duke
Ylodomir, the grandson of Olga, the Russian, coming
to Constantinople to receive a bride, entered Sancta
Sophia the first time, and from being transfixed by
what he saw and heard, fell down a convert to Chris
tianity. Not unlike was the effect upon Corti. In
a sense he, too, was an unbeliever semi-barbaric in
education. Many were the hours he had spent with
Mahommed while the latter, indulging his taste,
built palaces and mosques on paper, striving for vast-
ness and original splendor. But what was the
Prince's utmost achievement in comparison with this
interior? Had it been an ocean grotto, another

306

Caprian cave, bursting- with all imaginable revelations
of light and color, he could not have been more deeply
impressed. Without architectural knowledge; ac
quainted with few of the devices employed in edificial
construction, and still less with the mysterious power
of combination peculiar to genius groping for effects
in form, dimensions, and arrangement of stone on
stone with beautiful and sublime intent ; yet he had
a soul to be intensely moved by such effects when
actually set before his eyes. He walked forward
slowly four or five steps from the door, looking with
excited vision — not at details or to detect the compo
sition of any of the world of objects constituting the
view, or with a thought of height, breadth, depth, or
value — the marbles of the floor rich in multiformity
and hues, and reflective as motionless water, the his
toric pillars, the varied arches, the extending galleries,
the cornices, friezes, balustrades, crosses of gold, mo
saics, the windows and interlacing rays of light,
brilliance here, shadows yonder — the apse in the east,
and the altar built up in it starry with burning
candles and glittering with prismatic gleams shot
from precious stones and metals in every conceiv
able form of grace — lamps, cups, vases, candlesticks,
cloths, banners, crucifixes, canopies, chairs, Madon
nas, Child Christs and Christs Crucified — and over
all, over lesser domes, over arches apparently swing
ing in the air, broad, high, near yet far away, the
dome of Sancta Sophia, defiant of imitation, like
unto itself alone, a younger sky within the elder —
these, while he took those few steps, merged and ran
together in a unity which set his senses to reeling,
and made question and thought alike impossible.

How long the Count stood thus lost to himself in
the glory and greatness of the place, he never knew.

307

The awakening was brought about by a strain of
choral music, which, pouring from the vicinity
of the altar somewhere, flooded the nave, vast
as it was, from floor to dome. No voice more fit
ting could be imagined; and it seemed addressing
itself to him especially. He trembled, and began to
think.

First there came to him a comparison in which the
Kaaba was a relative. He recalled the day he fell
dying at the corner under the Black Stone. He saw
the draped heap funereally dismal in the midst of the
cloisters. How bare and poor it seemed to him now !
He remembered the visages and howling of the de
moniac wretches struggling to kiss the stone, though
with his own kiss he had just planted it with death.
How different the worship here! . . . This, he
thought next, was his mother's religion. And what
more natural than that he should see that mother
descending to the chapel in her widow's weeds to
pray for him ? Tears filled his eyes. His heart arose
chokingly in his throat. Why should not her relig
ion be his ? It was the first time he had put the ques
tion to himself directly ; and he went further with it.
What though Allah of the Islamite and Jehovah of
the Hebrew were the same ?— What though the Koran
and the Bible proceeded from the same inspiration ?
— What though Mahomet and Christ were alike
SonS of God ? There were differences in the wor
ship, differences in the personality of the worship
pers. Why, except to allow every man a choice
according to his ideas of the proper and best in form
and companionship ? And the spirit swelled within
him as he asked, Who are my brethren ? They who
stole me from my father's house, who slew my father,
who robbed my mother of the lights of life, and left

308

her to the darkness of mourning and the bitterness of
ungratified hope— were not they the brethren of my
brethren ?

At that moment an old man appeared before the
altar with assistants in rich canonicals. One placed
on the elder's head what seemed a crown all a mass
of flaming1 jewels ; another laid upon him a cloak of
cloth of gold ; a third slipped a ring over one of his
fingers ; whereupon the venerable celebrant drew
nearer the altar, and, after a prayer, took up a chalice
and raised it as if in honor to an image of Christ on a
cross in the agonies of crucifixion. Then suddenly
the choir poured its triumphal thunder abroad until
the floor, and galleries, and pendant lamps seemed to
vibrate. The assistants and worshippers sank upon
their knees, and ere he was aware the Count was in
the same attitude of devotion.

The posture consisted perfectly with policy, his
mission considered. Soon or late he would have to
adopt every form and observance of Christian wor
ship. In this performance, however, there was no
premeditation, no calculation. In his exaltation of
soul he fancied he heard a voice passing with the
tempestuous jubilation of the singers: u On thy knees,
O apostate ! On thy knees ! God is here ! "

But his was a combative nature; and coming to
himself, and not understanding clearly the cause of
his prostration, he presently arose. Of the worship
pers in sight, he alone was then standing, and the
sonorous music ringing on, he was beginning to
doubt the propriety of his action, when a number of
women, unobserved before, issued from a shaded cor
ner at the right of the apse, fell into processional
order, and advanced slowly toward him.

One moved by herself in front. A reflection of her

form upon the polished floor lent uncertainty to her
stature, and gave her an appearance of walking- on
water. Those following were plainly her attend
ants. They were all veiled ; while a white mantle
fell from her left shoulder, its ends lost in the folds
of the train of her gown, leaving the head, face,
and neck bare. Her manner, noticeable in the dis
tance even, was dignified without hauteur, simple,
serious, free of affectation. She was not thinking of
herself. . . . Nearer — he heard no foot-fall.
Now and then she glided through slanting rays of
soft, white light cast from upper windows, and they
seemed to derive ethereality from her.
Nearer— and he could see the marvellous pose of the
head, and the action of the figure, never incarnation
more graceful. . . . Yet nearer— he beheld her face,
in complexion a child's, in expression a woman's.
The eyes were downcast, the lips moved. She might
have been the theme of the music sweeping around
her in acclamatory waves, drowning the part she was
carrying in suppressed murmur. He gazed stead
fastly at the countenance. The light upon the fore
head was an increasing radiance, like a star's refined
by passage through the atmospheres of infinite space.
A man insensitive to beauty in woman never was,
never will be. Vows cannot alter nature; neither
can monkish garbs nor years ; and it is knowledge of
this which makes every woman willing to last sacri
fices for the gift; it is power to her, vulgarizing acces
sories like wealth, coronets and thrones. With this
confession in mind, words are not needed to inform
the reader of the thrills which assailed the Count
while the marvel approached.

The service was over as to her, and she was evi
dently seeking to retire by the main door ; but as he

310

stood in front of it, she came within two or three
steps before noticing him. Then she stopped sud
denly, astonished by the figure in shining armor. A
flush overspread her face ; smiling at her alarm, she
spoke : "I pray pardon, Sir Knight, for disturbing
thy devotions."

' ' And I, fair lady, am grateful to Heaven that it
placed me in thy way to the door unintentionally."

He stepped aside, and she passed on and out.

The interior of the church, but a minute before so
overwhelmingly magnificent and impressive, became
commonplace and dull. The singing rolled on un
heard. His eyes fixed on the door through which
she went; his sensations were as if awakening from
a dream in which he had seen a heavenly visitant,
and been permitted to speak to it.

The spell ceased with the music; then, with swift
returning sense, he remembered Mahommed's saying :
"Thou wilt know her at sight."

And he knew her — the Her of the screed brought
only that day by Ali.

Nor less distinctly did he recall every incident of
the parting with Mahommed, every word, every
injunction — the return of the ruby ring, even then
doubtless upon the imperious master's third finger, a
subject of hourly study — the further speech, "They
say whoever looketh at her is thenceforward her
lover " — and the final charge, with its particulars,
concluding : ' ' Forget not that in Constantinople,
when I come, I am to receive her from thy hand peer
less in all things as I left her."

His shoes of steel were strangely heavy when he
regained his horse at the edge of the court. For the
first time in years, he climbed into the saddle using
the stirrup like a man reft of youth. He would

311

love the woman — he could not help it. Did not every
man love her at sight ?

The idea colored everything" as he rode slowly back
to his quarters.

Dismounting at the door, it plied him writh the repe
tition, Every man loves her at sight.

He thought of training himself to hate her, but
none the less through the hours of the night he heard
the refrain, Every man loves her at sight.

In a clearer condition, his very inability to shut her
out of mind, despite his thousand efforts of will,
would have taught him that another judgment was
upon him.

HE LOVED HER.

CHAPTER VII

COUNT COHTI TO MAHOMMED

AT noon the days are a little more yellow, and the
shadows a trine longer, while at evening1 the snows
on the far mountains give the air a coolness gently
admonitory of the changing season; with these ex
ceptions there is scarcely a difference between the
September to which we now come and the closing
stages of June.

Count Corti is fully settled in his position. Withal,
however, he is very miserable. A now light has been
let in upon his being. He finds it a severe trial to serve
a Mahommedan, knowing himself a Christian born,
and still more difficult trying to be a Turk, knowing
himself an Italian. The stings grow sharper as ex
perience makes it plainer that he is nefariously help
ing those whom he ought to regard enemies destroy
an Emperor and people who never gave him offence.
Worst of all, most crushing to spirit, is his passion
for the Princess Irene while under obligations to
Mahommed prohibitory of every hope, dream, and
self -promise ordinarily the sweetest incidents of love.

The person with a mental ailment curable by prompt
decision, who yet goes about debating what to do, will
ere long find his will power so weakened as to leave
him a confirmed wreck. Count Corti seemed likely to
become an instance in point. The months since his

313

visit to the paternal castle in Italy, really the begin
ning of the conflicts tossing him now here, now there,
were full of warnings he could but hear ; still he con
tinued his course.

His reports to Mahommed were frequent, and as
they are of importance to our story, we think it
advisable to quote from some of them.

The following is from his first communication after
the visit to Sancta Sophia :

"I cast myself at your feet, O my Lord, praying Allah to
keep you in health, and strengthen the wise designs which
occupy you incessantly. . . . You bade me always speak
first of the kinswoman of the Emperor. Yesterday I rode to
the Church supreme in the veneration of the Greeks, erected, it
is said, by the Emperor Justinian. Its vastness amazed me,
and, knowing my Lord's love for such creations, I declare, were
there no other incentive to the conquest of this unbelieving
city than the reduction of Sancta Sophia to the religious usages
of Islam, its possession would alone justify my Lord's best effort,
regardless of life and treasure. The riches accumulated in it
through the ages are incalculable ; nevertheless its splendors,
dazzling as the sun, varied as a rainbow, sunk out of sight when
the Princess IrenS passed me so near that 1 had a perfect view
of her. Her face is composed of the light of unnumbered stars.
The union of all the graces in her person is so far above words
that Hafiz, my Lord's prince of poets, would have been dumb
before her, or, if he had spoken, it would have been to say, She
is the Song of Songs impossible to verse. She spoke to me
as she moved by, and her voice was the voice of Love. Yet she
had the dignity of a Queen governing the world through a con
queror such as my Lord is to be. Then, the door having closed
upon her, I was ready to declare, as I now do, were there no
other incentive to the conquest of this unbelieving city than the
possession of the womanly perfections belonging to her, she
would justify war to the exhaustion of the universe. O my
Lord, thou only art worthy of her ! And how infinite will be
my happiness, if the Prophet through his powerful intercessions
with the Most Merciful, permits me to be the servant instru
mental in bringing her safely to thy arms ! "

314

This report concluded :

"By appointment of His Majesty, the Emperor, I had audi
ence with him }"esterday at his High Residence, the Palace of
Blacherne. The Court was in full attendance, and, after my
presentation to His Majesty, I was introduced to its members.
The ceremony was in charge of the Grand Chamberlain, that
Phranza with whom my Lord is acquainted. Much I feared
lest he should recognize me. Fortunately he is dull and phil
osophical, and too much given to study of things abstract and
far away to be mindful of those close under his nose. Duke
Notaras was there also. He conversed with me about Italy.
Fortunately I knew more about the Gabour country than he — its
nobles, cities, manners, and present conditions. He thanked
me for information, and when he had my account of the affair
which brought me the invaluable certificate of the Bishop of
Rome he gave over sounding me. I have more reason to be
watchful of him than all the rest of the court ; so has the Em
peror. Phranza is a man to be spared. Notaras is a man to be
bowstrung. ... I flatter myself the Emperor is my friend.
In another month 1 shall be intrenched in his confidence. He
is brave, but weak. An excellent general without lieutenants,
without soldiers, and too generous and trustful for a politician,
too religious for a statesman. His time is occupied entirely
with priests and priestly ceremonies. My Lord will appreciate
the resort which enabled me to encamp myself in his trust. Of
the five Arab horses I brought with me from Aleppo, I gave
him one — a gray, superior to the best he has in his stables. He
and his courtiers descended in a body to look at the barb and
admire it."

From the third report :

"A dinner at the High Residence. There were present
officers of the army and navy, members of the Court, the Patri
arch, a number of the Clergy — Hegumen, as they are called —
and the Princess Irene, with a large suite of highborn ladies mar
ried and unmarried. His Majesty was the Sun of the occasion,
the Princess was the Moon. He sat on a raised seat at one side
of the table ; she opposite him ; the company according to rank,
on their right and left. I had eyes for the Moon only, thinking
how soon my Lord would be her source of light, and that her

315

loveliness, made up of every loveliness else in the world, would
then be the fitting complement of my Lord's glory. . . .
His Majesty did me the honor to lead me to her, and she did
me the higher honor of permitting me to kiss her hand. In
further thought of what she was to my Lord, I was about mak
ing her a salaam, but remembered myself— Italians are not given
to that mode of salutation, while the Greeks reserve it for the
Emperor, or Basileus as he is sometimes called. . . . She
condescended to talk with me. Her graces of mind are like
those of her person— adorable. ... I was very deferent,
and yielded the choice of topics. She chose two — religion and
arms. Had she been a man, she would have been a soldier ;
being a woman, she is a religious devotee. There is nothing of
which she is more desirous than the restoration of the Holy
Sepulchre to the Christian powers. She asked me if it were
true the Holy Father commissioned me to make war on the
Tripolitan pirates, and when I said yes, she replied with a fer
vor truly engaging : ' The practice of arms would be the noblest
of occupations if it were given solely to crusading.' .
She then adverted to the Holy Father. I infer from her speaking
of the Bishop of Rome as the Holy Father that she inclines to
the party which believes the Bishop rightfully the head of the
Church. How did he look ? Was he a learned man ? Did he
set a becoming example to his Clergy? Was he liberal and
tolerant? If great calamity were to threaten Christianity in
the East, would he lend it material help ? . . . My Lord
will have a time winning the Princess over to the Right Under
standing ; but in the fields of Love who ever repented him of
his labor? When my Lord was a boy, he once amused himself
training a raven and a bird of paradise to talk. The raven at
length came to say, ' O Allah, Allah ! ' The other bird was
beyond teaching, yet 'my Lord loved it the best, and excused
his partiality : ' Oh, its feathers are so brilliant ! '"

Again :

" A few days ago, I rode out of the Golden Gate, and turn
ing to the right, pursued along the great moat to the Gate St.
Remain. The wall, or rather the walls, of the city were on
my right hand, and it is an imposing work. The moat is in
places so cumbered I doubt if it can be everywhere flooded.

VOL. II. — 21

316

. . . I bought some snow-water of a peddler, and examined
the Gate in and out. Its central position makes it a key of
first importance. Thence I journeyed on surveying the road
and adjacent country up far as the Adrianople gate. . . .
I hope my Lord will find the enclosed map of my reconnois-
sance satisfactory. It is at least reliable."

Again :

" His Majesty indulged us with a hawking party. We rode
to the Belgrade forest from which Constantinople is chiefly
though not entirely supplied with water. . . . My Lord's
Flower of Flowers, the Princess, was of the company. I offered
her my chestnut courser, but she preferred a jennet. Remem
bering your instructions, O my Lord, I kept close to her bridle.
She rides wonderfully well ; yet if she had fallen, how many
prayers to the Prophet, what amount of alms to the poor, would
have availed me with my Lord ? . . . Riding is a lost art
with the- Greeks, if they ever possessed it. The falcon killed a
heron beyond a hill which none of them, except the Emperor,
dared cross in their saddles. Some day I will show them how
we of my Lord's loving ride. . . . The Princess came safely
home."

Again :

" O my Lord in duty always ! . . . I paid the usual daily
Visit to the Princess, and kissed her hand upon my admission
and departing. She has this quality above other women— she
is always the same. The planets differ from her in that they
are sometimes overcast by clouds. . . . From her house, I
rode to the imperial arsenal, situated in the ground story of the
Hippodrome, northern side.* It is well stored with imple
ments of offence and defence — mangonels, balistas, arbalists,
rams — cranes for repairing breaches — lances, javelins, swords,
axes, shields, scutums, pavises, armor— timber for ships —
cressets for night work — ironmonger machines— arquebuses,
but of antique patterns — quarrels and arrows in countless
sheaves— bows of every style. In brief, as my Lord's soul is
dauntless, as he is an eagle which does not abandon the firma-

* Professor E. A. Grosvenor.

317

raent scared by the gleam of a huntsman's helmet in the val
ley, he can bear to hear that the Emperor keeps prepared for
the emergencies of war. Indeed, were His Majesty as watchful
in other respects, he would be dangerous. Who are to serve all
these stores ? His native soldiers are not enough to make a
bodyguard for my Lord. Only the walls of Byzantium remain
for her defence. The Church has swallowed the young men;
the sword is discarded for the rosary. Unless the warriors of
the West succor her, she will be an easy prey."

Again :

" My Lord enjoined me to be royal. ... I have just re
turned from a sail up the Bosphorus to the Black Sea in my
galley. The decks were crowded with guests. Under a silken
pavilion pitched on the roof of my cabin, there was a throne
for the Princess Irene, and she shone as the central jewel in a
kingly crown. . . . We cast anchor in the bay of Therapia,
and went ashore to her palace and gardens. On the outside
face of one of the gate-columns, she showed me a brass plate.
I recognized my Lord's signature and safeguard, and came near
saluting them with a rik'rath, but restraining myself, asked her
innocently, ' What it was ? ' O my Lord, verily I congratulate
you ! She blushed, and cast down her eyes, and her voice trem
bled while she answered: 'They say the Prince Mahommcd
nailed it there.' ' What Prince Mahommed ?' 'He who is now
Sultan of the Turks.' ' He has been here, then ? Did you see
him ? ' 'I saw an Arab story-teller.' Her face was the hue of
a scarlet poppy, and I feared to go further than ask concerning
the plate: 'What does it mean?' And she returned: 'The
Turks never go by without prostrating themselves before it.
They say it is notice to them that I, and my house and grounds,
are sacred from their intrusion.' And then I said: 'Amongst
peoples of the East and the Desert, down far as the Barbary
coast, the Sultan Mahommed has high fame for chivalry. His
bounties to those once fortunate enough to excite his regard are
inexhaustible.' She would have had me speak further of you,
but out of caution, I was driven to declare I knew nothing
beyond the hearsay of the Islamites among whom I had been here
and there cast. . . . My Lord will not require me to describe
the palace by Therapia. He has seen it. ... The Princess

318

remained there. I was at sore loss, not knowing how I could
continue to make report of her to my Lord, until, to my relief
she invited me to visit her."

Again :

" I am glad to say, for my Lord's sake, that the October winds,
sweeping down from the Black Sea, have compelled his Prin
cess to return to her house in the city, where she will abide till
the summer comes again. I saw her to-day. The country life
has retouched her cheeks with a just-sufficient stain of red
roses ; her lips are scarlet, as if she had been mincing fresh-
blown bloom of pomegranates ; her eyes are clear as a crooning
baby's ; her neck is doAvny — round as a white dove's ; in her
movements afoot, she reminds me of the swaying of a lily-stalk
brushed softly by butterflies and humming-birds, attracted to
its open cup of paradisean Avax. Oh, if I could but tell her of
my Lord! "...

This report was lengthy, and included the account
of an episode more personal to the Sultanic emissary
than any before given his master. It was dated Oc
tober. The subjoined extracts may prove interesting.

"Everybody in the East has heard of the Hippo
drome, whither I went one day last Aveek, and again yesterday.
It Avas the mighty edifice in Avhich Byzantine vanity aired itself
through hundreds of years. But little of it is now left stand
ing. At the north end of an area probably seventy paces wide,
and four hundred long, is a defaced structure with a ground
floor containing the arsenal, and on that, boxes filled Avith seats.
A lesser building rises above the boxes which is said to have
been a palace called the Kathisma, from which the Emperor
looked doAvn upon the various amusements of the people, such
as chariot racing, and battles between the Blue and Green fac
tions. Around the area from the JKathisma lie hills of brick
and marble— enough to build the Palace as yet hid in my Lord's
dreams, and a mosque to becomingly house our Mohammedan
religion. In the midst, marking a line central of the race-course,
are three relics— a square pillar quite a hundred feet high, bare
noAv, but covered once with plates of brass — an obelisk from

319

Egypt — and a twisted bronze column, representing three writh
ing serpents, their heads in air.* . . . The present Em<
peror does not honor the ruin with his presence ; but the people
come, and sitting in the boxes under the Kathisma, and stand
ing on the heaps near by, find diversion watching the officers
and soldiers exercising their horses along the area. . . . My
Lord must know, in the next place, that there is in the city a
son of the Orchan who terms himself lawful heir of Solyman of
blessed memory — the Orchan pretender to rny Lord's throne,
whom the Greeks have been keeping in mock confinement — the
Orchan who is the subject of the present Emperor's demand on
iny Lord for an increase of the stipend heretofore paid for the
impostor's support. The son of the pretender, being a Turk,
affects the martial practices prevalent with us, and enjoys noto
riety for accomplishments as a horseman, and in the tourney
play djerid. He is even accredited with an intention of one day
taking the field against my Lord — this when his father, the old
Orchan, dies. . . . When I entered the Hippodrome one
day last week, Orchan the younger occupied the arena before
the Katfdsma. The boxes were well filled with spectators.
Some officers of my acquaintance were present, mounted like
myself, and they accosted me politely, and eulogized the per
formance. Afterwhile I joined in their commendation, but
ventured to say I had seen better exercise during my sojourn
among the infidels in the Holy Land. They asked me if I
had any skill. 'I cannot call it skill,' I said; 'but my in
struction was from a noble master, the Sheik of the Jordan.'

* The Hippodrome was the popular pleasure resort in Constantinople.
Besides accommodating one hundred thousand spectators, it was the
most complete building for the purposes of its erection -ever known. The
world — including old Rome — had been robbed of statuary for the adorn
ment of this extravaganza. Its enormous level posed in great part upon
a substructure of arches on arches, which still exist. The opinion is
quite general that it was destroyed by the Turks, and that much of its
material went to construct the Mosque Sulymanie. The latter averment
is doubtless correct ; but it is only justice to say that the Crusaders, so
called Christians, who encamped in Constantinople in 1204 were the real
vandals. For pastime, merely, they plied their battle-axes on the carv
ings, inscriptions, and vast collection of statuary in marble and bronze
found by them on the spina, and elsewhere in the edifice. When they de
parted, the Hippodrome was an irreparable ruin — a convenient and law«
ful quarry.

Nothing would rest them then but, a trial. At length I assented
on condition that the Turk would engage me in a tourney or a
combat without quarter — bow, cimeter, spear — on horseback
and in Moslem armor. They were astonished, but agreed to
carry the challenge. . . . Now, O my Lord, do not con
demn me. My residence here has extended into months, with
out an incident to break the peace. Your pleasure is still my
rule. I keep the custom of going about on horseback and in
armor. Once only — at His Majesty's dinner — I appeared in a
Venetian suit — a red mantle and hose, one leg black, the other
yellow — red-feathered cap, shoes with the long points chained
to my knees. Was there not danger of being mistaken for a
strutting bird of show ? If my hand is cunning with weapons,
should not the Greeks be taught it? How better recommend
myself to His Majesty of Blacherne ? Then, what an oppor
tunity to rid my Lord of future annoyance ! Old Orchan can
not live much longer, while this cheeping chicken is young1.
. . . The son of the pretender, being told I was an Italian,
replied he would try a tourney with me ; if I proved worthy, ho
would consider the combat. . . . Yesterday was the time
for the meeting. There was a multitude out as witnesses, the
Emperor amongst others. He did not resort to the Kathisma,
but kept his saddle, with a bodyguard of horsemen at his back.
His mount was my gray Arab. . . . We began with volting,
demi-volting, jumping, wheeling in retreat, throwing the horse.
Orchan was a f umbler. . . . We took to bows next, twelve
arrows each. At full speed he put two bolts in the target, and
I twelve, all in the white ring. . . . Then spear against
cimeter. I offered him choice, and he took the spear. In the
first career, the blunted head of his weapon fell to the ground
shorn off close behind the ferrule. The spectators cheered and
laughed, and growing angry, Orchan shouted it was an acci
dent, and challenged me to combat. I accepted, but His Maj
esty interposed — we might conclude with the spear and sword
in tourney again. . . . My antagonist, charged with mali
cious intent, resolved to kill me. I avoided his shaft, and as his
horse bolted past on my left, I pushed him with my shield, and
knocked him from the saddle. They picked him up bleeding
nose and ears. His Majesty invited me to accompany him to
Blacherne. ... I left the Hippodrome sorry not to have
been permitted to fight the vain fool ; yet my repute in Constan-

321

tinople is now undoubtedly good — I am a soldier to be culti
vated."

Again :

"His Majesty has placed me formally in charge of the gate
in front of my quarters. Communication with my Lord is now
at all timels easy. The keys of the city are in effect mine. Never
theless I shall continue to patronize Ali. His fish are the
freshest brought to market."

Again :

" O my Lord, the Princess Irene is well and keeps the morn
ing colors in her cheeks for you. Yet I found her quite dis
traught. There was unwelcome news at the Palace from His
Majesty's ambassador at Adrianople. The Sultan had at last
answered the demand for increase of the Orchan stipend— not
only was the increase refused, but the stipend itself was with
drawn, and a peremptory order to that effect sent to the province
whence the fund has been all along collected. ... I made
a calculation, with conclusion that my report of the tourney
with young Orchan reached my Lord's hand, and I now am pat
ting myself on the back, happy to believe it had something to
do with my Lord's decision. The imposition deserved to have
its head blown off. Orchan is a dotard. His son's ears are still
impaired. In the fall the ground caught him crown first. He
will never ride again. The pretension is over. ... I rode
from the Princess' house directly to Blacherne. The Grand
Council was in session : yet the Prefect of the Palace admitted
me. . . . O my Lord, this Constantino is a man, a warrior,
an Emperor, surrounded by old women afraid of their shadows.
The subject of discussion when I went in was the news from
Adrianople. His Majesty was of opinion that your decision,
coupled with the order discontinuing the stipend, was sign of a
hostile intent. He was in favor of preparing for war. Phranza
thought diplomacy not yet spent. Notaras asked what prepa
rations His Majesty had in mind. His Majesty replied, buy
ing cannon and powder, stocking the magazines with pro
visions for a siege, increasing the navy, repairing the walls,
clearing out the moat. He would also send an embassy to the
Bishop of Rome, and through him appeal to the Christian powers
of Europe for assistance in men and money. Notaras rejoined

322

instantly : ' Rather than a Papal Legate in Constantinople, he
would prefer a turbaned Turk.' The Council broke up in con
fusion. . . . Verily, O my Lord, I pitied the Emperor. So
much courage, so much weakness ! His capital and the slender
remnant of his empire are lost unless the Gabours of Venice and
Italy come to his aid. Will they ? The Holy Father, using the
opportunity, will try once more to bring the Eastern Church to
its knees, and failing, will leave it to its fate. If my Lord
knocked at these gates to-morrow, Notaras would open one of
them, and I another. . . . Yet the Emperor will fight. He
has the soul of a hero."

Again :

"The Princess Irene is inconsolable. Intensely Greek, and
patriotic, and not a little versed in politics, she sees nothing
cheering in the situation of the Empire. The vigils of night in
her oratory are leaving their traces on her face. Her eyes are
worn with weeping. I find it impossible not to sympathize with
so much beauty tempered by so many virtues. When the worst
has befallen, perhaps my Lord will know how to comfort1 her."

Finally :

<: It is a week since I last wrote my Lord. Ali has been sick
but keeps in good humor, and says he will be well when Chris
tian winds cease blowing from Constantinople. He prays you
to come and stop them. . . . The diplomatic mishaps of the
Emperor have quickened the religious feuds of his subjects.
The Latins everywhere quote the speech of Notaras in the
Council : ' Rather than a Papal Legate in Constantinople, I pre
fer a turbaned Turk '—and denounce it as treason to God and
the State. It certainly represents the true feeling of the Greek
clergy ; yet they are chary in defending the Duke. . . . The
Princess is somewhat recovered, although perceptibly paler than
is her wont. She is longing for the return of spring, and prom
ises herself health and happiness in the palace at Therapia.
, . . To-morrow, she informs me, there is to be a special
grand service in Sancta Sophia. The Brotherhoods here and
elsewhere will be present. I will be there also. She hopes
peace and rest from doctrinal disputes will follow. We will
see."

The extracts above given will help the reader to an

idea of life in Constantinople; more especially they
portray the peculiar service rendered by Corti during
the months they cover.

There are two points in them deserving special
notice: The warmth of description indulged with
respect to the Princess Irene and the betrayal of the
Emperor. It must not be supposed the Count was un
aware of his perfidy. He did his writing after night,
when the city and his own household were asleep;
and the time was chosen, not merely for greater secur
ity from discovery, but that no eye might see the re
morse he suffered. How often he broke off in the
composition to pray for strength to rescue his honor,
and save himself from the inflictions of conscience!
There were caverns in the mountains and islands off
in the mid-seas : why not fly to them ? Alas ! He
was now in a bondage which made him weak as
water. It was possible to desert Mahommed, but not
the Princess. The dangers thickening around the city
were to her as well. Telling her of them were useless ;
she would never abandon the old Capital ; and it was
the perpetually recurring comparison of her strength
with his own weakness which wrought him his sharp
est pangs. Writing of her in poetic strain was easy,
for he loved her above every earthly consideration ;
but when he thought of the intent with which he
wrote — that he was serving the love of another, and
basely scheming to deliver her to him — there was no
refuge in flight ; recollection would go with him to
the ends of the earth— better death. Not yet— not yet
—he would argue. Heaven might send him a happy
chance. So the weeks melted into months, and he
kept the weary wray hoping against reason, conspir
ing, betraying, demoralizing, sinking into despair.

CHAPTER VIII

OUR LORD'S CREED

PROCEEDING now to the special service mentioned
in the extract from the last report of Count Corti to
Mahommed.

The nave of Saiicta Sophia was in possession of a
multitude composed of all the Brotherhoods of the
city, interspersed with visiting delegations from the
monasteries of the Islands and many of the hermitic
colonies settled in the mountains along the Asiatic
shore of the Marmora. In the galleries were many
women; amongst them, on the right-hand side, the
Princess Irene. Her chair rested on a carpeted box a
little removed from the immense pilaster, and raised
thus nearly to a level with the top of the balustrade
directly before her, she could easily overlook the floor
below, including the apse. From her position every
body appeared dwarfed ; yet she could see each figure
quite well in the light of the forty arched windows
above the galleries.

On the floor the chancel, or space devoted to the
altar, was separated from the body of the nave by a
railing of Corinthian brass, inside which, at the left,
she beheld the Emperor, in Basilean regalia, seated
on a throne — a very stately and imposing figure.
Opposite him was the chair of the Patriarch. Be
tween the altar and the railing arose a baldacchino,
the canopy of white silk, the four supporting col-

325

umns of shining silver. Under the canopy, sus
pended by a cord, hung the vessel of gold containing
the Blessed Sacraments ; and to the initiated it was a
sufficient publication of the object of the assemblage.
Outside the railing, facing the altar, stood the mul
titude. To get an idea of its appearance, the reader
has merely to remember the description of the bands
marching into the garden of Blacherne the night of
the Pannychides. There were the same gowns black
and gray ; the same tonsured heads, and heads shock-
haired -/the same hoods and glistening rosaries; the
same gloomy, bearded faces; the same banners, ori-
flammes, and ecclesiastical gonfalons, each with its
community under it in a distinctive group. Back
further towards the entrances from the vestibule
was a promiscuous host of soldiers and civilians;
having no part in the service, they were there as
spectators.

The ceremony was under the personal conduct of
the Patriarch. Silence being complete, the choir,
invisible from the body of the nave, began its mag
nificent rendition of the Sanctus—" Holy, holy, holy,
Lord G-od of Sabaoth. Blessed is He who cometh in
the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest "-
and during the singing, His Serenity was clothed for
the rite. Over his cassock, the deacons placed the
surplice of white linen, and over that again a stole
stiff with gold embroidery. He then walked slowly
to the altar, and prayed ; and when he had himself
communicated, he was led to the baldacchino, where
he blessed the Body and the Blood, and mixed them
together in chalices, ready for delivery to the com
pany of servers kneeling about him. The Emperor,
who, in common with the communicants within and
without the railing, had been 011 his knees, arose now

326

and took position before the altar in a prayerful atti
tude ; whereupon the Patriarch brought him a chalice
on a small paten, and he put it to his lips, while the
choir rang the dome with triumphal symphony.

His Serenity next returned to the baldacchino, and
commenced giving the cups to the servers; at the
same time the gate leading from the chancel to the
nave was thrown open. Nor rustle of garment, nor
stir of foot was heard.

Then a black-gowned figure arose amidst a group
not far from the gate, and said, in a hoarse voice,
muffled by the flaps of the hood covering his head
and face :

' ' We are here, O Serenity, by thy invitation— here
to partake of the Holy Eucharist— and I see thou art
about sending it to us. Now not a few present be
lieve there is no grace in leavened bread, and others
hold it impiety to partake thereof. Wherefore tell
us"—

The Patriarch looked once at the speaker; then,
delivering the chalice, signed the servers to follow
him ; .next instant, he stood in the open gateway, and
with raised hands, cried out :
" Holy things to the holy ! "

Repeating the ancient formula, he stepped aside to
allow the cup-bearers to pass into the nave ; but they
stood still, for there came a skurry of sound not
possible of location, so did it at the same moment
seem to be from the dome descending and from the
floor going up to the dome. It was the multitude
rising from their knees.

Now the Patriarch, though feeble in body, was stout
of soul and ready-witted, as they usually are whose
lives pass in combat and fierce debate. Regarding the
risen audience calmly, he betook himself to his chair,

827

and spoke to his assistants, who brought a plain
chasuble, and put it on him, covering the golden
stole completely. When he again appeared in the
spaceway of the open gate, as he presently did, every
cleric and every layman in the church to whom he
was visible understood he took the interruption as a
sacrilege from which he sought by the change of
attire to save himself.

" Whoso disturbs the Sacrament in celebration has
need of cause for that he does ; for great is his offence
whatever the cause."

The Patriarch's look and manner were void of
provocation, except as one, himself rudely disposed,
might discover it in the humility somewhat too
studied.

"I heard my Brother— it would be an untruth to
say I did not— and to go acquit of deceit, I will an
swer him, God helping me. Let me say first, while
we have some differences in our faith, there are
many things about which we are agreed, the things
in agreement outnumbering those in difference ; and
of them not the least is the Real Presence once the
Sacraments are consecrated. Take heed, O Brethren !
Do any of you deny the Real Presence in the bread
and wine of communion ? "

No man made answer.

"It is as I said— not one. Look you, then, if I or
yOU_if aily of us be tempted to anger or passionate
speech, and this house, long dedicated to the worship
of God, and its traditions of holiness too numerous
for memory, and therefore of record only in the
Books of Heaven, fail the restraints due them, lo,
Christ is here— Christ in Real Presence— Christ our
Lord in Body and Blood ! "

The old man stood aside, pointing to the vessel

under the baldacchino, and there were sighs and
sobs. Some shouted : ' ' Blessed be the Son of God ! "
The sensation over, the Patriarch continued :
" O my Brother, take thou answer now. The bread
is unleavened. Is it therefore less grace-giving- ? "

"No, no!" But the response was drowned by an
affirmative yell so strong there could be no doubt of
the majority. The minority, however, was obstinate,
and ere long the groups disrupted, and it seemed
every man became a disputant. Now nothing serves
anger like vain striving to be heard. The Patriarch
in deep concern* stood in the gateway, exclaiming:
' ' Have a care, O Brethren, have a care ! For now is
Christ here ! " And as the babble kept increasing, the
Emperor came to him.

"They are like to carry it to blows, O Serenity."
' ' Fear not, my son, God is here, and He is separat
ing the wheat from the chaff."

"But the blood shed will be on my conscience, and
the Panagia "-

The aged Prelate was inflexible. ' ' Nay, nay, not
yet ! They are Greeks. Let them have it out. The
day is young ; and how often is shame the miraculous
parent of repentance."

Constaiitine returned to his throne, and remained
there standing.

Meantime the tumult went on until, with shouting
and gesticulating, and running about, it seemed the
assemblage was getting mad with drink. Whether
the contention was of one or many things, who may
say ? Well as could be ascertained, one party, taking
cue from the Patriarch, denounced the interruption
of the most sacred rite ; the other anathematized the
attempt to impose unleavened bread upon orthodox
communicants as a scheme of the devil and his arch-

329

legate, the Bishop of Rome. Men of the same opin
ions argued blindly with each other ;• while genuine
opposition was conducted with glaring eyes, swollen
veins, clinched hands, and voices high up in the
leger lines of hate and defiance. The timorous and
disinclined were caught and held forcibly. In a
word, the scene was purely Byzantine, incredible of
any other people.

The excitement af terwhile extended to the galleries,
where, but that the women were almost universally
of the Greek faction, the same passion would have
prevailed; as it was, the gentle creatures screamed
azymite, azymite in amazing disregard of the pro
prieties. The Princess Irene, at first pained and morti
fied, kept her seat until appearances became threaten
ing ; then she scanned the vast pit long and anxiously ;
finally her wandering eyes fell upon the tall figure of
Sergius drawn out of the mass, but facing it from a
position near the gate of the brazen railing. Imme
diately she settled back in her chair.

To justify the emotion now possessing her, the
reader must return to the day the monk first pre
sented himself at her palace near Therapia. He
must read again the confession, extorted from her by
the second perusal of Father Hilarion's letter, and be
reminded of her education in the venerated Father's
religious ideas, by which her whole soul was adherent
to his conceptions of the Primitive Church of the
Apostles. Nor less must the reader suffer himself to
be reminded of the consequences to her — of the judg
ment of heresy upon her by both Latins and Greeks
— of her disposition to protest against the very mad
ness now enacting before her — of her longing, Oh,
that I were a man ! — of the fantasy that Heaven had
sent Sergius to her with the voice, learning, zeal,

courage, and passion of truth to enable her to chal
lenge a hearing anywhere — of the persistence with
which she had since cared for and defended him, and
watched him in his studies, and shared them with
him. Nor must the later incident, the giving him a
copy of the creed she had formulated — the Creed of
Nine Words — he omitted in the consideration.

Now indeed the reader can comprehend the Prin
cess, and the emotions with which she beheld the
scene at her feet. The Patriarch's dramatic warning
of the Real Presence found in her a ready second ; for
keeping strictly to Father Hilarion's distinction be
tween a right Creed and a form or ceremony for pious
observance, the former essential to salvation, the lat
ter merely helpful to continence in the Creed, it was
with her as if Christ in glorified person stood there
under the baldacchino. What wonder if, from indig
nation at the madness of the assembly, the insensate
howling, the blasphemous rage, she passed to exalta
tion of spirit, and fancied the time good for a re-
proclamation of the Primitive Church?

Suddenly a sharper, fiercer explosion of rage arose
from the floor, and a rush ensued — the factions had
come to blows !

Then the Patriarch yielded, and at a sign from the
Emperor the choir sang the Sanctus anew. High
and long sustained, the sublime anthem rolled above
the battle and its brutalism. The thousands heard it,
and halting, faced toward the apse, wondering what
could be coming. It even reached into the vortex of
combat, and turned all the unengaged there into
peacemakers.

Another surprise still more effective succeeded.
Boys with lighted candles, followed by bearers of
smoking censers, bareheaded and in white, marched

331

slowly from behind the altar toward the open gate,
outside which they parted right and left, and stopped
fronting the multitude. A broad banner hung to a
cross-stick of gold, heavy with fringing of gold, the
top of the staff overhung with fresh flowers in wreaths
and garlands, the lower corners stayed by many
streaming white ribbons in the hands of as many holy
men in white woollen chasubles extending to the bare
feet, appeared from the same retreat, carried by two
brethren known to every one as janitors of the sacred
chapel on the hill-front of Blacherne.

The Emperor, the Patriarch, the servers of the
chalices, the whole body of assistants inside the rail
ing, fell upon their knees while the banner was borne
through the gate, and planted 011 the floor there. Its
face was frayed and dim with age, yet the figure of
the woman upon it was plain to sight, except as the
faint gray smoke from the censers veiled it in a van
ishing cloud.

Then there was an outburst of many voices :

4 ' The Panagia ! The Panagia ! "

The feeling this time was reactionary.

"O Blessed Madonna '.—Guardian of Constanti
nople !— Mother of God!— Christ is here !— Hosannas
to the Son and to the Immaculate Mother ! " With
these, and other like exclamations, the mass precipi
tated itself forward, and, crowding near the historic
symbol, flung themselves on the floor before it, grovel
ling and contrite, if not conquered.

The movement of the candle and censer bearers out
side the gate forced Sergius nearer it; so when the
Panagia was brought to a rest, he, being much taller
than its guardians, became an object of general ob
servation, and wishing to escape it if possible, he took
off his high hat; whereupon his hair, parted in the
VOL. ii.— 22

332

middle, dropped down his neck and back fair and
shining in the down-beating light.

This drew attention the more. Did any of the pros
trate raise their eyes to the Madonna on the banner,
they must needs turn to him next ; and presently the
superstitious souls, in the mood for miracles, began
whispering to each other :

' ' See — it is the Son — it is the Lord himself I "

And of a truth the likeness was startling ; although
in saying this, the reader must remember the differ
ence heretofore remarked between the Greek and
Latin ideals.

About that time Sergius looked up to the Princess,
whose face shone out of the shadows of the gallery
with a positive radiance, and he was electrified seeing
her rise from her chair, and wave a hand to him.

He understood her. The hour long talked of, long
prepared for, was at last come — the hour of speech.
The blood surged to his heart, leaving him pallid as a
dead man. He stooped lower, covered his eyes with
his hands, and prayed the wordless prayer of one who
hastily commits himself to God ; and in the darkness
behind his hands there was an illumination, and in
the midst of it a sentence in letters each a lambent
flame — the Creed of Father Hilarion and the Princess
Irene — our Lord's Creed :

"I BELIEVE IN GOD, AND JESUS CHRIST,
HIS SON."

This was his theme !

With no thought of self, no consciousness but of
duty to be done, trusting in God, he stood up, pushed
gently through the kneeling boys and guardians of
the Panagia, and took position where all eyes could
look at the Blessed Mother slightly above him, and
then to himself, in such seeming the very Son. It

might have been awe, it might have been astonish-
meiit, it might have been presentiment ; at all events,
the moaning, sobbing, praying, tossing of arms, beat
ing of breasts, with the other outward signs of re
morse, grief and contrition grotesque and pitiful alike
subsided, and the Church, apse, nave and gallery,
grew silent — as if a wave had rushed in, and washed
the life out of it.

"Men and brethren," he began, "I know not
whence this courage to do comes, unless it be from
Heaven, nor at whose word I speak, if not that Jesus
of Nazareth, worker of miracles which God did by
him anciently, yet now here in Real Presence of
Body and Blood, hearing what we say, seeing what
we do."

"Art thou not He ?" asked a hermit, half risen in
front of him, his wrap of undressed goatskin fallen
away from his naked shoulders.

' ' No ; his servant only am I, even as thou art — his
servant who would not have forsaken him at Geth-
semane, who would have given him drink on the
Cross, who would have watched at the door of his
tomb until laid to sleep by the Delivering Angel—
his servant not afraid of Death, which, being also his
servant, will not pass me by for the work I now do,
if the work be not by his word."

The voice in this delivery was tremulous, and the
manner so humble as to take from the answer every
trace of boastfulness. His face, when he raised it,
and looked out over the audience, was beautiful. The
spectacle offered him in return was thousands of people
on their knees, gazing at him undetermined whether
to resent an intrusion or welcome a messenger with
glad tidings.

334

''Men and brethren," he continued, more firmly,
casting the old Scriptural address to the farthest au
ditor, ' ' now are you in the anguish of remorse ; but
who told you that you had offended to such a degree ?
See you not the Spirit, sometimes called the Com
forter, in you I Be at ease, for unto us are repentance
and pardon. There were who beat our dear Lord,
and spit upon him, and tore his beard ; who laid him
on a cross, and nailed him to it with nails in his hands
and feet ; one wounded him in the side with a spear ;
yet what did he, the Holy One and the Just ? Oh ! if
he forgave them glorying in their offences, will he
be less merciful to us repentant ? "

Raising his head a little higher, the preacher pro
ceeded, with increased assurance:

' ' Let me speak freely unto you ; for how can a man
repent wholly, if the cause of his sin be not laid bare
that he may see and hate it ?

' ' Now before our dear Lord departed out of the
world, he left sayings, simple even to children, in
structing such as would be saved unto everlasting life
what they must do to be saved. Those sayings I call
our Lord's Creed, by him delivered unto his disci
ples, from whom we have them: 'Verily, verily, I
say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believ-
eth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life.' So
we have the First Article— belief in God. Again:
' Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that believeth on
me hath everlasting life.' Behold the Second Article
— belief in Christ.

"Now, for that the Son, and he who sent him, are
at least in purpose one, belief in either of them is
declared sufficient ; nevertheless it may be simpler, if
not safer, for us to cast the Two Articles together in a
single phrase ; we have then a Creed which we may

335

affirm was made and left behind him by our Lord
himself :

I BELIEVE IN GOD, AND JESUS CHRIST, HIS SON.

And when we sound it, lo ! two conditions in all ; and
he who embraces them, more is not required of him ;
he is already passed from death unto life — everlasting
life.

"This, brethren, is the citadel of our Christian
faith ; wherefore, to strengthen it, what was the mis
sion of Jesus Christ our Lord to the world ? Hear
every one ! What was the mission of our Lord Jesus
Christ ? Why was he sent of God, and born into
the world ? Hearing the question, take heed of the
answer : He was sent of God for the salvation of men.
You have ears, hear ; minds, think ; nor shall one of
you, the richest in understanding of the Scriptures,
in walk nearest the Sinless Example, ever find an
other mission for him which is not an arraignment
of the love of his Father.

" Then, if it be true, as we all say, not one denying
it, that our Lord brought to his mission the perfected
wisdom of his Father, how could he have departed
from the world leaving the way of salvation unmarked
and unlighted ? Or, sent expressly to show us the
way, himself the appointed guide, what welcome can
we suppose he would have had from his Father in
Heaven, if he had given the duty over to the angels ?
Or, knowing the deceitfulness of the human heart,
and its weakness and liability to temptation, whence
the necessity for his coming to us, what if he had given
the duty over to men, so much lower than the angels,
and then gone away ? Rather than such a thought of
him, let us believe, if the way had been along the land,
he would have planted it with inscribed hills ; if over

the seas, he would have sown the seas with pillars of
direction above the waves ; if through the air, he would
hafve made it a path effulgent with suns numerous as
the stars. ' I am the Way, ' he said — meaning the way
lies through me ; and you may come to me in the
place I go to prepare for you, if only you believe
in God and me. Men and brethren, our Lord was
true to his mission, and wise in the wisdom of his
Father."

At this the hermit in front of the preacher, uttering
a shrill cry, spread his arms abroad, and quivered
from head to foot. Many of those near sprang for
ward to catch him.

" No, leave him alone," cried Sergius, "leave him
alone. The cross he took was heavy of itself; but
upon the cross you heaped conditions without sanc
tion, making a burden of which he was like to die.
At last he sees how easy it is to go to his Master ; that
he has only to believe in God and the Master. Leave
him with the truth ; it was sent to save, not to kill. "

The excitement over, Sergius resumed :

" I come now, brethren, to the cause of your afflic
tion. I will show it to you; that is to say, I will
show you why you are divided amongst yourselves,
and resort to cruelty one unto another ; as if murder
would help either side of the quarrel. I will show
your disputes do not come from anything said or done
by our Lord, whose almost last prayer was that all
who believed in him might be made perfect in one.

' ' It is well known to you that our Lord did not
found a Church during his life on earth, but gave
authority for it to his Apostles. It is known to you
also that what his Apostles founded was but a com
munity ; for such is the description : ' And all that
believed were together, and had all things common ;

337

and sold their possessions and goods, and parted
them to all men, as every man had need. ' * And
again : ' And the multitude of them that believed
were of one heart and of one soul : neither said any
of them that ought of the things which he possessed
was his own ; but they had all things common.'
' Neither was there any among them that lacked : for
as many as were possessors of lands or- houses sold
them, and brought the prices of the things that were
sold, and laid them down at the apostles' feet: and
distribution was made unto every man according as
he had need.'f But in time this community became
known as the Church ; and there was nothing of it
except our Lord's Creed, in definition of the Faith,
and two ordinances for the Church— Baptism for the
remission of sins, that the baptized might receive the
Comforter, and the Sacraments, that believers, often
as they partook of the Body and Blood of Christ,
might be reminded of him.

"Lo, now! In the space of three generations this
Church, based upon this simple Creed, became a
power from Alexandria to Lodiiium; and though
kings banded to tread it out ; though day and night
the smell of the blood of the righteous spilt by them
was an offence to God ; though there was no ingenuity
more amongst men except to devise methods for the
torture of the steadfast— still the Church grew; and if
you dig deep enough for the reasons of its triumphant
resistance, these are they : there was Divine Life in the
Creed, and the Community was perfect in one ; inso
much that the brethren quarrelled not among them
selves; neither was there jealousy, envy or rivalry
among them; neither did they dispute about imma
terial things, such as which was the right mode of bap-

* Acts ii. 44, 45. t Acts iv. 32, 34, 35.

338

tism, or whether the bread should be leavened or un
leavened, or whence the Holy Ghost proceeded, whether
from the Father or from the Father and Son together ;
neither did the elders preach for a price, nor forsake a
poor flock for a rich one that their salaries might be
increased, nor engage in building costly tabernacles
for the sweets of vanity in tall spires; neither did
any study the Scriptures seeking a text, or a form, or
an observance, on which to go out and draw from the
life of the old Community that they might set up a
new one; and in their houses of God there were never
places for the men and yet other separate places for
the women of the congregation ; neither did a suppli
cant for the mercy of God look first at the garments
of the neighbor next him lest the mercy might lose a
virtue because of a patch or a tatter. The Creed was
too plain for quibble or dispute; and there was 110
ambition in the Church except who should best glo
rify Christ by living most obedient to his commands.
Thence came the perfection of unity in faith and
works ; and all went well with the Primitive Church
of the Apostles ; and the Creed was like unto the white
horse seen by the seer of the final visions, and the
Church was like him who sat upon the horse, with a
bow in his hand, unto whom a crown was given ; and
he went forth conquering and to conquer."

Here the audience was stirred uncontrollably;
many fell forward upon their faces ; others wept, and
the nave resounded with rejoicing. In one quarter
alone there was a hasty drawing together of men with
frowning brows, and that was where the gonfalon of
the Brotherhood of the St. James' was planted. The
Hegumen, in the midst of the group, talked excitedly,
though in a low tone.

"I will not ask, brethren," Sergius said, in contin-

uance, "if this account of the Primitive Church be
true ; you all do know it true ; yet I will ask if one of
you holds that the offending of which you would
repent — the anger, and bitter words, and the blows —
was moved by anything in our Lord's Creed, let him
arise, before the Presence is withdrawn, and say that
he thinks. These, lending their ears, will hear him,
and so will God. What, will not one arise ?

" It is not necessary that I remind you to what your
silence commits you. Rather suffer me to ask next,
which of you will arise and declare, our Lord his wit
ness, that the Church of his present adherence is the
same Church the Apostles founded ? You have
minds, think; tongues, speak."

There was not so much as a rustle on the floor.

' ' It was well, brethren, that you kept silence ; for,
if one had said his Church was the same Church the
Apostles founded, how could he have absolved him
self of the fact that there are now here two parties each
claiming to be of the only true Church ? Or did he
assert both claimants to be of the same Church, and it
the only true one, then why the refusal to partake of
the Sacraments ? Why a division amongst them at
all ? Have you not heard the aforetime saying,
' Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to
desolation ' ?

' ' Men and brethren, let no man go hence thinking
his Church, whichever it be, is the Church of the
Apostles. If he look for the community which was
the law of the old brotherhood, his search will be
vain. If he look for the unity, offspring of our Lord's
last prayer, lo! jealousies, hates, revilements, blows
instead. No, your Creed is of men, not Christ, and
the semblance of Christ in it is a delusion and a
snare."

340

At this the gonfalon of the St. James' was suddenly
lifted up, and borne forward to within a few feet of
the gate, and the Hegumen, standing in front of it,
cried out :

' * Serenity, the preacher is a heretic ! I denounce " —

He could get no further; the multitude sprang to
foot howling. The Princess Irene, and the women in
the galleries, also arose, she pale and trembling. Peril
to Sergius had not occurred to her when she gave him
the signal to speak. The calmness and resignation
with which he looked at his accuser reminded her of
his Master before Pilate, and taking seat again, she
prayed for him, and the cause he was pleading.

At length, the Patriarch, waving his hand, said:

"Brethren, it may be Sergius, to whom we have
been listening, has his impulse of speech from the
Spirit, even as he has declared. Let us be patient
and hear him."

Turning to Sergius, he bade him proceed.

' ' The three hundred Bishops and Presbyters from
whom you have your Creeds,* O men and brethren "
— so the preacher continued — "took the Two Articles
from our Lord's Creed, and then they added others.
Thus, which of you can find a text of our Lord treat
ing of his procession from the substance of God ?
Again, in what passage has our Lord required belief
in the personage of the Holy Ghost as an article of
faith essential to salvation ? f 'I am the Way, ' said
our Lord. ' No, ' say the three hundred, ' we are the
way ; and would you be saved, you must believe in
us not less than in God and his Son.'"

* Encyclopedia Brit., VI. 560.

t Four Creeds are at present used in the Roman Catholic Church ; viz.,
the Apostles' Creed, the Nicene, the Athanasian, that of Pius IV. — ADD.
and AR., Catholic Dictionary, 232.

341

The auditors a moment before so fierce, even the
Hegumen, gazed at the preacher in a kind of awe;
and there was no lessening of effect when his manner
underwent a change, his head slightly drooping and
his voice plaintive.

' ' The Spirit by whose support and urgency I have
dared address you, brethren, admonishes me that my
task is nearly finished."

He took hold of the corner of the Panagia ; so all in
view were more than ever impressed with his likeness
to their ideal of the Blessed Master.

' ' The urgency seemed to me on account of your
offence to the Real Presence so graciously in our
midst; for truly when we are in the depths of peni
tence it is our nature to listen more kindly to what is
imparted for our good ; wherefore, as you have minds,
I beg you to think. If our Lord did indeed leave a
Creed containing the all in all for our salvation, what
meant he if not that it should stand in saving purity
until he came again in the glory of his going ? And
if he so intended, and yet uninspired men have added
other Articles to the simple faith he asked of us,
making it so much the harder for us to go to him in
the place he has prepared for us, are they not usurp
ers ? And are not the Articles which they have im
posed to be passed by us as stratagems dangerous to
our souls ?

' ' Again. The excellence of our Lord's Creed by
which it may be always known when in question, its
wisdom superior to the devices of men, is that it per
mits us to differ about matters outside of the faith
without weakening our relations to the Blessed Master
or imperilling our lot in his promises. Such matters,
for example, as works, which are but evidences of
faith and forms of worship, and the administration of

342

the two ordinances of the Church, and God and his
origin, and whether Heaven be here or there, or like
unto this or that. For truly our Lord knew us, and
that it was our nature to deal in subtleties and specu
late of things not intended we should know during
this life ; the thought of our minds being restless and
always running, like the waters of a river on their
way to the sea.

"Again, brethren. If the Church of the Apostles
brought peace to its members, so that they dwelt
together, no one of them lacking or in need, do not
your experiences of to-day teach you wherein your
Churches, being those built upon the Creed of the
three hundred Bishops, are unlike it ? Moreover, see
you not if now you have several Churches, some
amongst you, the carping and ambitious, will go out
and in turn set up new Confessions of Faith, and at
length so fill the earth with rival Churches that
religion will become a burden to the poor and a
byword with fools who delight in saying there is no
God ? In a village, how much better one House of
God, with one elder for its service, and always open,
than five or ten, each with a preacher for a price, and
closed from Sabbath to Sabbath ? For that there
must be discipline to keep the faithful together, and
to carry on the holy war against sin and its strong
holds and captains, how much better one Church in
the strength of unity than a hundred diversely named,
and divided against themselves ?

' ' The Revelator, even that John who while in the
Spirit was bidden, ' Write the things which thou hast
seen, and the things which are, and the things which
shall be hereafter,' wrote, and at the end of his book
set a warning: 'If any man shall add unto these
things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are

343

written in this book.' I cannot see, brethren, wherein
that crime is greater than the addition of Articles to
our Lord's Creed ; nor do I know any who have more
reason to be afraid of those threatened plagues than
the priest or preacher who from pride or ambition, or
dread of losing his place or living, shall wilfully
stand in the way of a return to the Church of the
Apostles and its unity. Forasmuch as I also know
what penitential life is, and how your minds engage
themselves in the solitude of your cells, I give you
whereof to think. Men and brethren, peace unto you
all!"

The hermit knelt to the preacher, and kissed his
hand, sobbing the while ; the auditors stared at each
other doubtfully ; but the Hegumeii's time was come.
Advancing to the gate, he said :

"This man, O Serenity, is ours by right of frater
nity. In thy hearing he hath defamed the Creed
which is the rock the Fathers chose for the founda
tion of our most holy Church. He hath even essayed
to make a Creed of his own, and present it for our
acceptance — thy acceptance, 0 Serenity, and that of
His Majesty, the only Christian Emperor, as well as
ours. And for those things, and because never be
fore in the history of our ancient and most notable
Brotherhood hath there been an instance of heresy
so much as in thought, we demand the custody of
this apostate for trial and judgment. Give him to us
to do with."

The Patriarch clasped his hands, and, shaking like
a man struck with palsy, turned his eyes upward as
if asking counsel of Heaven. His doubt and hesita
tion were obvious ; and neighbor heard his neighbor's
heart beat ; so did silence once more possess itself of

344

the great auditorium. The Princess IrenS arose white
with fear, and strove to catch the Emperor's atten
tion; but he, too, was in the bonds waiting on the
Patriarch.

Then from his place behind the Hegumen, Sergius
spoke :

l!l Let not your heart be troubled, O Serenity. Give
me to my Brotherhood. If I am wrong, I deserve to
die; but if I have spoken as the Spirit directed me,
God is powerful to save. I am not afraid of the
trial."

The Patriarch gazed at him, his withered cheeks
glistening with tears ; still he hesitated.

" Suffer me, O Serenity! " — thus Sergius again — " I
would that thy conscience may never be disquieted
on my account ; and now I ask not that thou give me
to my Brotherhood — I will go with them freely and
of my own accord." Speaking then to the Hegumen,
he said : ' ' No more, I pray. See, I am ready to be
taken as thou wilt."

The Hegumen gave him in charge of the brethren ;
and at his signal, the gonfalon was raised and carried
through the concourse, and out of one of the doors,
followed closely by the Brotherhood.

At the moment of starting, Sergius lifted his hands,
and shouted so as to be heard above the confusion:
' ' Bear witness, O Serenity — and thou, O Emperor !
That no man may judge me an apostate, he*ar my
confession: I believe in God, and Jesus Christ, his
Son."

Many of those present remained and partook of the
Sacraments; far the greater number hurried away,
and it was not long until the house was vacated.

CHAPTER IX
COUNT CORTI TO MAHOMMED
EXTRACT :

" God is God, and Mahomet is his Prophet ! May they keep
my Lord in health, and help him to all his heart's desires ! . . .
it is now three days since my eyes were gladdened by the pres
ence of the Princess Irene ; yet I have been duteously regular
in my calls at her house. To my inquiries, her domestic has
returned the same answer : ' The Princess is in her chapel pray
ing. She is sadly disturbed in mind, and excuses herself to
every one.' Knowing this information will excite my Lord's
apprehension, I beg him to accept the explanation of her ail
ments which I think most probable. . . . My Lord will
gratify me by graciously referring to the account of the special
meeting in Sancta Sophia which I had the honor to forward the
evening of the day of its occurrence. The conjecture there ad
vanced that the celebration of the Sacrament in highest form
was a stratagem of the Patriarch's looking to a reconciliation
of the factions, has been confirmed ; and more — it has proved a
failure. Its effect has inflamed the fanaticism of the Greek
party as never before. Notaras, moved doubtless by Gennadius,
induced them to suspect His Majesty and the Patriarch of con
niving at the wonderful sermon of the monk Sergius ; and, as
the 'best rebuke in their power, the Brotherhood of the St.
James' erected a Tribunal of Judgment in their monastery last
night, and placed the preacher on trial. He defended himself,
and drove them to admit his points ; that their Church is not
the Primitive Church of the Apostles, and that their Creed is an
unwarranted enlargement of the two Articles of Faith left by
Jesus Christ for the salvation of the world. Yet they pro
nounced him an apostate and a heretic of incendiary purpose,
and condemned him to the old lion in the Cynegion, Tamerlane,

346

famous these many years as a man-eater. . . . My Lord
should also know of the rumor in the city which attributes the
Creed of Nine Words — ' I believe in God, and Jesus Christ, his
gon ' — to the Princess Irene ; and her action would seem to
justify the story. Directly the meeting in Sancta Sophia was
over, she hastened to the Palace, and entreated His Majesty to
save the monk from his brethren. My Lord may well think the
Emperor disposed to grant her prayer ; his feeling for her is
warmer than friendship. The gossips say he at one time pro
posed marriage to her. At all events, being a tender-hearted
man — too tender indeed for his high position — it is easy imagin
ing how such unparalleled beauty in tearful distress must have
moved him. Unhappily the political situation holds him as in
a vice. The Church is almost solidly against him ; while of the
Brotherhoods this one of the St. James' has been his only stanch
adherent. What shall the poor man do ? If he saves the
preacher, he is himself lost. It appears now she has been
brought to understand he cannot interfere. Thrown thus upon
the mercy of Heaven, she has buried herself in her oratory.
Oh, the full Moon of full Moons ! And alas ! that she should
ever be overcast by a cloud, though it be not heavier than
the just-risen morning mist. My Lord — or Allah must come
quickly !

"O my Lord! In duty again and always ! . . . All did
not come yesterday. I suppose the high winds were too un
friendly. So the despatch of that date remained on my hands ;
and I now open it, and include a supplement. . . . This
morning as usual I rode to the Princess' door. The servant
gave me the same report — his mistress was not receiving. It
befalls therefore that my Lord must take refuge in his work or
in dreams of her — and may I lay a suggestion at his feet, I ad
vise the latter, for truly, if the world is a garden, she is its
Queen of Roses. . . . For the sake of the love my Lord
bears the Princess, and the love I bear my Lord, I did not sleep
last night, being haunted with thinking how I could be of ser
vice to her. What is the use of strength and skill in arms if I
cannot turn them to account in her behalf as my Lord would
have me ? ... On my way to the Princess', I was told that
the monk, who is the occasion of her sorrow, his sentence being
on her conscience, is to be turned in with the lion to-morrow.

347

As I rode away from her house in desperate strait, not having
it in power to tell my Lord anything of her, it occurred to me
to go see the Cynegion, where the judgment is to be publicly
executed. What if the Most Merciful should offer me an op
portunity to do the unhappy Princess something helpful ? If I
shrank from the lion, when killing it would save her a grief, my
Lord would never forgive me. . . . Here is a description of
the Cynegion : The northwest wall of the city drops from the
height of Blacherne into a valley next the harbor or Golden
Horn, near which it meets the wall coming from the east.
Right in the angle formed by the intersection of the walls there
is a gate, low, very strong, and always closely guarded. Pass
ing the gate, I found myself in an enclosed field, the city wall
on the east, Avooded hills south, and the harbor north. How
far the enclosure extends up the shore of the harbor, I cannot
say exactly — possibly a half or three quarters of a mile. The
surface is level and grassy. Roads wind in and out of clumps
of selected shrubbery, with here and there an oak tree. Kiosk-
looking houses, generally red painted, are frequent, some with
roofs, some without. Upon examination 1 discovered the
houses were for the keeping of animals and birds. In one there
was an exhibition of fish and reptiles. But much the largest
structure, called the Gallery, is situated nearly in the centre of
the enclosure ; and it astonished me with an interior in general
arrangement like a Greek theatre, except it is entirely circular
and without a stage division. There is an arena, like a sanded
floor, apparently fifty paces in diameter, bounded by a brick
wall eighteen or twenty feet in height, and from the top of the
wall seats rise one above another for the accommodation of
common people ; while for the Emperor I noticed a covered
stand over on the eastern side. The wall of the arena is broken at
regular intervals by doors heavily barred, leading into chambers
anciently dens for ferocious animals, but at present prisons for
criminals of desperate character. There are also a number of
gates, one under the grand stand, the others forming northern,
southern and eastern entrances. From this, I am sure my Lord
can, if he cares to, draught the Cynegion, literally the Menagerie,
comprehending the whole enclosure, and the arena in the mid
dle of it, where the monk will to-morrow expiate his heresy.
Formerly combats in the nature of wagers of battle were ap
pointed for the place, and beasts were pitted against each other ;
VOL. ii. —23

348

but now the only bloody amusement permitted in it is when a
criminal or an offender against God is given to the lion. On
such occasions, they tell me, the open seats and grand stands
are crowded to their utmost capacities. . . . If the descrip
tion is tedious, I hope my Lord's pardon, for besides wishing to
give him an idea of the scene of the execution to-morrow, I
thought to serve him in the day he is looking forward to with
so much interest, when the locality will have to be considered
with a view to military approach. In furtherance of the latter
object, I beg to put my Lord in possession of the accompanying
diagram of the Cynegion, observing particularly its relation to
the city ; by attaching it to the drawings heretofore sent him,
he will be enabled to make a complete map of the country ad
jacent to the landward wall. . . . Ali has just come in. As
I supposed, he was detained by the high winds. His mullets
are perfection. With them he brings a young sword-fish yet
alive. I look at the mess, and grieve that I cannot send a por
tion to my Lord for his breakfast. However, a few days now,
and he will come to his own ; the sea with its fish, and the land
and all that belongs to it. The child of destiny can afford to
wait."

CHAPTER X

SERGIUS TO THE

ABOUT ten o'clock the day after the date of Count
Corti's last despatch — ten of the morning — a woman
appeared on the landing in front of Port St. Peter,
and applied to a hoatman for passage to the Cynegion.

She was thickly veiled, and wore an every-day over-
cloak of hrown stuff closely buttoned from her throat
down. Her hands were gloved, and her feet coarsely
shod. In a word, her appearance was that of a female
of the middle class, poor but respectable.

The landing was thronged at the time. It seemed
everybody wanted to get to the menagerie at once.
Boatmen were not lacking. Their craft, of all known
models, lay in solid block yards out, waiting turns
to get in; and while they waited, the lusty, half-
naked fellows flirted their oars, quarrelled with each
other in good nature, Greek-like, and yelled volleys at
the slow bargain makers whose turns had arrived.

Twice the woman asked if she could have a seat.

"How many of you are there ? " she was asked in
reply.

" I am alone."

"You want the boat alone ? "

"Yes."

' ' Well, that cair t be. I have seats for several —
and wife and four babies at home told me to make the
most I could out of them. It lias been some time

350

since one has tried to look old Tamerlane in the eye,
thinking to scare him out of his dinner. The game
used to be common; it's not so now."

' ' But I will pay you for all the seats. "

"Full five?"

"Yes."

" In advance ?"

"Yes."

' ' Jump in, then — and get out your money — fifty-five
noumise — while I push through these howling water-
dogs."

By the time the boat was clear of the pack, truly
enough the passenger was with the fare in hand.

" Look," she said, "here is a bezant."

At sight of the gold piece, the man's countenance
darkened, and he stopped rowing.

' ' I can't change that. You might as well have no
money at all."

"Friend," she returned, "row me swiftly to the
first gate of the Cynegion, and the piece is yours."

" By my blessed patron ! I'll make you think you
are on a bird, and that these oars are wings. Sit in
the middle— that will do. Now ! "

The fellow was stout, skilful, and in earnest. In a
trice he was under headway, going at racing speed.
The boats in the harbor were moving in two currents,
one up, the other down ; and it was noticeable those
in the first were laden with passengers, those of the
latter empty. Evidently the interest was at the fur
ther end of the line, and the day a holiday to the two
cities, Byzantium and Galata. Yet of the attrac
tions on the water and the shores, the woman took
no heed ; she said never a word after the start ; but
sat with head bowed, and her face buried in her
hands. Occasionally, if the boatman had not been so

351

intent on earning the gold piece, he might have heard
her sob. For some reason, the day was not a holiday
to her.

" We are nearly there," he at length said.

Without lifting the veil, she glanced at a low wall
on the left-hand shore, then at a landing, shaky from
age and neglect, in front of a gate in the wall ; and
seeing it densely blockaded, she spoke :

' ' Please put me ashore here. I have no time to lose. "

The bank was soft and steep.

"You cannot make it."

" I can if you will give me your oar for a step."

"I will."

In a few minutes she was on land. Pausing then
to toss the gold piece to the boatman, she heard his
thanks, and started hastily for the gate. Within the
Cynegion, she fell in with some persons walking
rapidly, and talking of the coming event as if it were
a comedy.

" He is a Russian, you say ? "

' ' Yes, and what is strange, he is the very man who
got the Prince of India's negro "-

"The giant?"

" Yes — who got him to drown that fine young fel
low Demedes."

' ' Where is the negro now ? "

"In a cell here."

" Why didn't they give him to the lion ? "

" Oh, he had a friend — the Princess Irenb."

" What is to be done with him ? "

" Afterwhile, when the affair of the cistern is for
gotten, he will be given a purse, and set free."

' ' Pity ! For what sport to have seen him in front
of the old Tartar ! "

"Yes, he's a fighter."

352

In the midst of this conversation, the party came
in sight of the central building-, externally a series of
arches supporting a deep cornice handsomely balus-
traded, and called the Gallery.

"Here we are!— But see the people on the top! I
was afraid we would be too late. Let us hurry."

"Which gate ?"

"The western— it's the nearest."

" Can't we get in under the grand stand ? "

"No, it's guarded."

These loquacious persons turned off to make the
western gate; but the woman in brown kept on, and
ere long was brought to the grand stand on the north.
An arched tunnel, amply wide, ran under it, with a
gate at the further end admitting directly to the
arena. A soldier of the foreign legion held the
mouth of the tunnel.

"Good friend," she began, in a low, beseeching
tone, " is the heretic who is to suffer here yet ? "

" He was brought out last night."

"Poor man! I am a friend of his" — her voice
trembled — " may I see him ? "

' ' My orders are to admit no one — and I do not
know which cell he is in."

The supplicant, sobbing and wringing her hands,
stood awhile silent. Then a roar, very deep and
hoarse, apparently from the arena, startled her and
she trembled.

" Tamerlane ! " said the soldier.

"O God! " she exclaimed. " Is the lion turned in
already ? "

"Not yet. He is in his den. They have not fed
him for three days."

She stayed her agitation, and asked : ' ' What are
your orders ? "

363

" Not to admit any one.1
" To the cells ?"

" The cells, and the arena also."

"Oh, I see! You can let me stand at the gate
yonder ? "

"Well-^yes. But if you are the monk's friend,
why do you want to see him die ? "

She made no reply, but took from a pocket a bezant,
and contrived to throw its yellow gleam in the senti
nel's eyes.

"Is the gate locked ?"

"No, it is barred 011 this side."

" Does it open into the arena ? "

"Yes."

" I do not ask you to violate your orders," she con
tinued, calmly; "only let me go to the gate, and
see the man when he is brought out."

She offered him the money, and he took it, saying :
" Very well. I can see no harm in that. Go."

The gate in question was open barred, and per
mitted a view of nearly the whole circular interior.
The spectacle presented was so startling she caught
one of the bars for support. Throwing back the
veil, she looked, breathing sighs which were almost
gasps. The arena was clear, and thickly strewn
with wet sand. There were the walls shutting it
in, like a pit, and on top of them, on the ascending
seats back to the last one— was it a cloud she beheld ?
A second glance, and she recognized the body of
spectators, men, women and children, compacted
against the sky. How many of them there were!
Thousands and thousands! She clasped her hands,
and prayed.

Twelve o'clock was the hour for the expiation.

Waiting so wearily there at the gate — praying,

354

sighing, weeping by turns— the woman was soon
forgotten by the sentinel. She had bought his pity.
In his eyes she was only a lover of the doomed monk.
An hour passed thus. If the soldier's theory were
correct, if she were indeed a poor love-lorn creature
come to steal a last look at the unfortunate, she eked
small comfort from her study of the cloud of hu
manity on the benches. Their jollity, their frequent
laughter and hand-clapping reached her in her re
treat. "Merciful God!" she kept crying. "Are
these beings indeed in thy likeness ? "

In a moment of wandering thought, she gave at
tention to the fastenings of the gate, and observed
the ends of the bar across it rested in double iron
sockets on the side toward her ; to pass it, she had
only to raise the bar clear of the socket and push.

Afterwhile the door of a chamber nearly oppo
site her opened, and a man stood in the aperture.
He was very tall, gigantic even; and apparently sur
prised by what he beheld, he stepped out to look at
the benches, whereat the light fell upon him and she
saw he was black. His appearance called for a roar
of groans, and he retired, closing the door behind
him. Then there was an answering roar from a cell
near by at her left. 'The occupants of the benches
applauded long and merrily, crying, "Tamerlane!
Tamerlane ! " The woman shrank back terrified.

A little later another man entered the arena, from
the western gate. Going to the centre he looked
carefully around him ; as if content with the inspec
tion, he went next to a cell and knocked. Two per
sons responded by coming out of the door; one an
armed guardsman, the other a monk. The latter wore
a hat of clerical style, and a black gown dropping to
his bare feet, its sleeves of immoderate length com-

355

pletely muffling his hands. Instantly the concourse
on the benches arose. There was no shouting — one
might have supposed them all suddenly seized with
shuddering sympathy. But directly a word began
passing from mouth to mouth ; at first, it was scarcely
more than a murmur ; soon it was a byname on every
tongue :

' ' The heretic ! The heretic ! "

The monk was Sergius.

His guard conducted him to the centre of the field,
and, taking off his hat, left him there. In going he
let his gauntlet fall. Sergius picked it up, and gave
it to him; then calm, resigned, fearless, he turned
to the east, rested his hands on his breast palm to
palm, closed his eyes, and raised his face. He may
have had a hope of rescue in reserve; certain it is,
they who saw him, taller of his long gown, his hair
on his shoulders and down his back, his head up
turned, the sunlight a radiant imprint on his fore
head, and wanting only a nimbus to be the Christ in
apparition, ceased jeering him ; it seemed to them that
in a moment, without effort, he had withdrawn his
thoughts from this world, and surrendered himself.
They could see his lips move ; but what they supposed
his last prayer was only a quiet recitation : " I believe
in God, and Jesus Christ, his Son."

The guard withdrawn, three sharp mots of a trum
pet rang out from the stand. A door at the left of
the tunnel gate was then slowly raised; whereupon
a lion stalked out of the darkened depths, and stopped
on the edge of the den thus exposed, winking to ac
custom his eyes to the day-splendor. He lingered
there very leisurely, turning his ponderous head from
right to left and up and down, like a prisoner ques
tioning if he were indeed at liberty.

358

Having viewed the sky and the benches, and filled
his deep chest with ample draughts of fresh air, sud
denly Tamerlane noticed the monk. The head rose
higher, the ears erected, and, snuffing like a hound, he
fretted his shaggy mane ; his yellow eyes changed
to coals alive, and he growled and lashed his sides
with his tail. A majestic figure was he now. ' ' What
is it ? " he appeared asking himself. "Prey or com
bat ? " Still in a maze, he stepped out into the arena,
and shrinking close to the sand, inched forward creep
ing toward the object of his wonder.

The spectators had opportunity to measure him,
and drink their fill of terror. The monk was a
goodly specimen of manhood, young, tall, strong; but
a fig for his chances once this enemy struck him or
set its teeth in his flesh ! An ox could not stand the
momentum of that bulk of bone and brawn. It were
vain telling how many— not all of them women and
children— furtively studied the height of the wall en
closing the pit to make sure of their own safety upon
the seats.

Sergius meantime remained in prayer and recita
tion; he was prepared for the attack, but as a iion-
resistant ; if indeed he thought of battle, he was not
merely unarmed — the sleeves of his gown deprived
him of the use of his hands. From the man to the
lion, from the lion to the man, the multitude turned
shivering, unable nevertheless to look away.

Presently the lion stopped, whined, and behaved
uneasily. Was he afraid ? Such was the appearance
when he began trotting around at the base of the
wall, halting before the gates, and seeking an escape.
Under the urgency, whatever it was, from the trot he
broke into a gallop, without so much as a glance at
the monk.

357

A murmur descended from the benches. It was
the people recovering from their horror, and im
patient. Ere long they became positive in expres
sion ; in dread doubtless of losing the catastrophe of
the show, they yelled at the cowardly beast.

In the height of this tempest, the gate of the tunnel
under the grand stand opened quickly, and was as
quickly shut. Death brings no deeper hush than fell
upon the assemblage then. A woman was crossing
the sand toward the monk! Round sped the lion,
forward she went! Two victims! Well worth the
monster's hunger through the three days to be so
banqueted on the fourth !

There are no laws of behavior for such situa
tions. Impulse and instinct rush in and take pos
session. While the thousands held their breath,
they were all quickened to know who the intruder
was.

She was robed in white, was bareheaded and bare
footed. The dress, the action, the seraphic face
were not infrequent on the water, and especially in
the churches; recognition was instantaneous, and
through the eager crowded ranks the whisper flew :

"God o' Mercy! It is the Princess — the Princess
Irene ! "

Strong men covered their eyes, women fainted.

The grand stand had been given up to the St.
James', and they and their intimates filled it from
the top seat to the bottom; and now directly the
identity became assured, toward them, or rather to
the Hegumen conspicuous in their midst, innumerable
arms were outstretched, seconding the cry: "Save
her ! Save her ! Let the lion be killed ! "

Easier said than done. Crediting the Brotherhood
with lingering sparks of humanity, the game was

358

beyond their interference. The brute was lord. Who
dared go in and confront him ?

About this time, the black man, of whom we have
spoken, looked out of his cell again. To him the
pleading arms were turned. He saw the monk, the
Princess, and the lion making its furious circuit — saw
them and retreated, but a moment after reappeared,
attired in the savageries which were his delight. In
the waistbelt he had a short sword, and over his left
shoulder a roll like a fisherman's net. And now he
did not retreat.

The Princess reached Sergius safely, and placing a
hand on his arm, brought him back, as it were, to
life and the situation.

' ' Fly, little mother — by the way you came — fly ! "
he cried, in mighty anguish. "O God! it is too
late— too late."

Wringing his hands, he gave way to tears.

" No, I will not fly. Did I not bring you to this ?
Let death come to us both. Better the quick work of
the lion than the slow torture of conscience. I will
not fly ! We will die together. I too believe in God
and Jesus Christ his Son."

She reached up, and rested her hand upon his shoul
der. The repetition of the Creed, and her companion
ship restored his courage, and smiling, despite the
tears on his cheeks, he said :

k ' Very well, little mother. The army of the mar
tyrs will receive us, and the dear Lord is at his
mansion door to let us in."

The lion now ceased galloping. Stopping over in
the west quarter of the field, he turned his big burn
ing eyes on the two thus resigning themselves, and
crouching, put himself in motion toward them; his
mane all on end ; his jaws agape, their white arma-

359

ture whiter of the crimson tongue lolling adrip below
the lips. He had given up escape, and, his curiosity
sated, was bent upon his prey. The charge of cow
ardice had been premature. The near thunder of his
roaring was exultant and awful.

There was great ease of heart to the people when
Nilo — for he it was — taking position between the de
voted pair and their enemy, shook the net from his
shoulder, and proceeded to give an example of his
practice with lions in the jungles of Kash-Cush.

Keeping the brute steadily eye to eye, he managed
so that while retaining the leaden balls tied to its
disengaged corners one in each hand, the net was
presently in an extended roll on the ground before
him. Leaning forward then, his hands bent inwardly
knuckle to knuckle at his breast, his right foot ad
vanced, the left behind the right ready to carry him
by a step left aside, he waited the attack — to the be
holders, a figure in shining ebony, giantesque in pro
portions, Phidian in grace.

Tamerlane stopped. What new wonder was this ?
And while making the study, he settled flat on the
sand, and sunk his roaring into uneasy whines and
growls.

By this time every one looking 011 understood
Nilo's intent — that he meant to bide the lion's leap,
and catch and entangle him in the net. What nerve
and nicety of calculation — what certainty of eye —
what knowledge of the savage nature dealt with —
what mastery of self, limb and soul were required
for the feat !

Just at this crisis there was a tumult in the grand
stand. Those who turned that way saw a man in
glistening armor pushing through the brethren there
in most unceremonious sort. In haste to reach the

360

front, he stepped from bench to bench, knocking the
gowned Churchmen -right and left as if they were
but so many lay figures. On the edge of the wall, he
tossed his sword and shield into the arena, and next
instant leaped after them. Before astonishment was
spent, before the dull of faculties could comprehend
the intruder, before minds could be made up to so
much as yell, he had fitted the shield to his arm,
snatched up the sword, and run to the point of dan
ger. There, with quick understanding of the negro's
strategy, he took place behind him, but in front of
the Princess and the monk. His agility, cumbered
though he was, his amazing spirit, together with
the thought that the fair woman had yet another
champion over whom the lion must go ere reach
ing her, wrought the whole multitude into ecstasy.
They sprang upon the benches, and their shouting
was impossible of interpretation except as an indica
tion of a complete revulsion of feeling. In fact,
many who but a little before had cheered the lion or
cursed him for cowardice now prayed aloud for his
victims.

The noise was not without effect on the veteran
Tamerlane. He surveyed the benches haughtily
once, then set forward again, intent on Nilo.

The movement, in its sinuous, flexile gliding,
resembled somewhat a serpent's crawl. And now he
neither roared nor growled. The lolling tongue
dragged the sand; the beating of the tail was like
pounding with a flail ; the mane all erect trebly en
larged the head ; and the eyes were like live coals in a
burning bush. The people hushed. Nilo stood firm ;
thunder could as easily have diverted a statue; and
behind him, not less steadfast and watchful, Count
Corti kept guard.

361

Thirty feet away— twenty-five— twenty— then the
great beast stopped, collected himself, and with an in
describable roar launched clear of the ground. Up,
at the same instant, and forward on divergent lines,
went the leaden balls ; the netting they dragged after
them had the appearance of yellow spray blown sud
denly in the air. When the monster touched the
sand again, he was completely enveloped.

The struggle which ensued— the gnashing of teeth,
the bellowing, the rolling and blind tossing and pitch
ing, the labor with the mighty limbs, the snapping of
the net, the burrowing into the sand, the further and
more inextricable entanglement of the enraged brute
may be left to imagination. Almost before the spec
tators realized the altered condition, Nilo was stab
bing him with the short sword.

The wTell-directed steel at length accomplished the
work, and the pride of the Cynegion lay still in the
bloody tangle— then the benches found voice.

Amidst the uproar Count Corti went to Nilo.

" Who art thou ? " he asked, in admiration.

The King smiled, and signified his inability to hear
or speak. Whereupon the Count led him to the
Princess.

' ' Take heart, fair saint, " he said. ' ' The lion is dead,
and thou art safe."

She scarcely heard him.

He dropped upon his knee.

"The lion is dead, O Princess, and here is the hand
which slew him — here thy rescuer."

She looked her gratitude to Nilo— speak she could
not.

"And thou, too," the Count continued, to the
monk, "must have thanks for him."

Sergius replied: "I give thee thanks, Nilo— and

thou, noble Italian — I am only a little less obliged tc
thee— thou wast ready with thy sword."

He paused, glanced at the grand stand, and went
on : " It is plain to me, Count Corti, that thou thinkest
my trial happily ended. The beast is dead truly ; but
yonder are some not less thirsty for blood. It is for
them to say what I must further endure. I am still
the heretic they adjudged me. Do thou therefore ban
ish me from thy generous mind ; then thou canst give
it entirely to her who is most in need of it. Remove
the Princess — find a chair for her, and leave me to
God."

"What further can they do?" asked the Count.
" Heaven hath decided the trial in thy favor. Have
they another lion ? "

The propriety of the monk's suggestion was obvious ;
it was not becoming for the Princess to remain in the
public eye ; besides, under reaction of spirit, she was
suffering.

' ' Have they another lion ? " the Count repeated.

Anxious as he was to assist the Princess, he was
not less anxious, if there was further combat, to take
part in it. The Count was essentially a fighting man.
The open door of Nilo's cell speedily attracted his at
tention.

' ' Help me, sir monk. Yonder is a refuge for the
Princess. Let us place her in safety. I will return,
and stay with thee. If the reverend Christians, thy
brethren in the grand stand, are not content, by Allah "
—he checked himself— " their cruelty would turn the
stomach of a Mohammedan. "

A few minutes, and she was comfortably housed in
the cell.

" Now, go to thy place; I will send for a chair, and
rejoin thee."

At the tunnel gate, the Count was met by a num
ber of the St. James', and he forgot his errand.

" We have come," said one of them to Sergius, "to
renew thy arrest.1'

" Be it so, " Sergius replied ; ' ' lead on. "

But Count Corti strode forward.

"By whose authority is this arrest renewed?" he
demanded.

" Our Hegumen hath so ordered."

" It shall not be— no, by the Mother of your Christ,
it shall not be unless you bring me the written word
of His Majesty making it lawful."

"The Hegumen"—

"I have said it, and I carry a sword"— the Count
struck the hilt of the weapon with his mailed hand,
so the clang was heard on the benches. " I have said
it, and my sword says it. Go, tell thy Hegumen."

Then Sergius spoke :

"I pray you interfere not. The Heavenly Father
who saved me this once is powerful to save me
often."

"Have done, sir monk," the Count returned, with
increasing earnestness. "Did I not hear thee say
the same in thy holy Sancta Sophia, in such wise
that these deserved to cast themselves at thy feet?
Instead, lo ! the lion there. And for the truth, which
is the soul of the world as God is its Maker— the
Truth and the Maker being the same— it is not interest
in thee alone which moves me. She, thy patroness
yonder, is my motive as well. There are who will
say she followed thee hither being thy lover ; but thou
knowest better, and so do I. She came bidden by
conscience, and except thou live, there will be no ease
of conscience for her — never. Wherefore, sir monk,
hold thy peace. Thou shalt no more go hence of
VOL. ii. — 24

364

thine own will than these shall take thee against
it. ... Return, ye men of blood— return to him
who sent you, and tell him my sword vouches my
word, being so accustomed all these years I have been
a man. Bring they the written word of His Majesty,
I will give way. Let them send to him."

The brethren stared at the Count. Had he not been
willing to meet old Tamerlane with that same sword ?
They turned about, and were near the tunnel gate
going to report, when it was thrown open with great
force, and the Emperor Constantine appeared on
horseback, the horse bloody with spurring and flecked
with foam. Eiding to the Count he drew rein.

" Sir Count, where is my kinswoman ? "

Corti kissed his hand.

" She is safe, Your Majesty— she is in the cell yon
der."

The Emperor's eye fell upon the carcass of the lion.

" Thou didst it, Count ? "

« No— this man did it."

The Emperor gazed at Nilo, thus designated, and
taking a golden chain of fine workmanship from his
neck, he threw it over the black King's. At the door
of the cell, he dismounted; within, he kissed the
Princess on the forehead.

"A chair will be here directly."

"And Sergius ? " she asked.

"The Brotherhood must forego their claim now.
Heaven has signified its will."

He thereupon entered into explanation. The neces
sity upon him was sore and trying, else he had never
surrendered Sergius to the Brotherhood. He expected
the Hegumen would subject him to discipline — impris
onment or penance. He had even signed the order
placing the lion at service, supposing they meant

365

merely a trial of the monk's constancy. Withal the
proceeding was so offensive he had refused to wit
ness it. An officer came to the palace with intelli
gence which led him to believe the worst was really
intended. To stop it summarily, he had ordered a
horse and a guard. Another officer reported the
Princess in the arena with Sergius and the lion.
With that His Majesty had come at speed. And he
was grateful to God for the issue.

In a short time the sedan was brought, and the
Princess borne to her house.

Summoning the Brotherhood from the grand stand,
the Emperor forbade their pursuing Sergius further ;
the punishment had already been too severe. The
Hegumen protested. Constantino arose in genuine
majesty, and denouncing all clerical usurpations, he
declared that for the future he would be governed
by his own judgment in whatever concerned the lives
of his subjects and the welfare of his empire. The
declaration was heard by the people on the benches.

By his order, Sergius was conducted to Blacherne,
and next day installed a janitor of the imperial
Chapel ; thus ending his connection with the Brother
hood of the St. James'.

"Your Majesty," said Count Corti, at the conclu
sion of the scene in the arena, " I pray a favor."

Constantine, by this time apprised of the Count's
gallantry, bade him speak.

"Give me the keeping of this negro."

' ' If you mean his release from prison, Sir Count,
take him. He can have no more suitable guardian.
But it is to be remembered he came to the city with
one calling himself the Prince of India, and if at
any time that mysterious person reappears, the man
is to be given back to his master. "

The Count regarded Nilo curiously — he was merely
recalling the Prince.

"Your Majesty is most gracious. I accept the con
dition."

The captain of the guard, coming to the tunnel
under the grand stand, was addressed by the sentinel
there.

* ' See — here are a dress, a pair of shoes, and a veil.
I found them by the gate there."

" How came they there ? "

' ' A woman asked me to let her stand by the gate,
and see the heretic when they brought him out, and
I gave her permission. She wore these things. "

" The Princess Irene!" exclaimed the officer.
"Very well. Send them to me, and I will have
her pleasure taken concerning them. "

The Cynegion speedily returned to its customary
state. But the expiation remained in the public
mind a date to which all manner of events in city
life was referred; none of them, however, of such
consequence as the loss to the Emperor of the alle
giance of the St. James1. Thenceforth the Brother
hoods were united against him.

BOOK YT

CONSTANTINE

CHAPTER I

THE SWORD OF SOLOMON

THE current of our story takes us once more to
the White Castle at the mouth of the Sweet Waters
of Asia.

It is the twenty-fifth of March, 1452. The weather,
for some days cloudy and tending to the tempestuous,
changed at noon, permitting the sun to show himself
in a field of spotless blue. At the edge of the moun
tainous steep above Roumeli Hissar, the day-giver
lingered in his going down, as loath to leave the
life concentrated in the famous narrows in front of
the old Castle.

On the land, there was an army in waiting ; there
fore the city of tents and brushwood booths extend
ing from the shore back to the hills, and the smoke
pervading the perspective in every direction.

On the water, swinging to each other, crowding all
the shallows of the delta of tjie little river, reaching
out into the sweep of the Bosphorus, boats open and
boats roofed — scows, barges, galleys oared and galleys
with masts — ships — a vast conglomerate raft.

About the camp, and to and fro on the raft, men
went and came, like ants in storing time. Two
things, besides the locality, identified them— their
turbans, and the crescent and star in the red field of
the flags they displayed.

History, it would appear, takes pleasure in repeti-

370

tion. Full a thousand years before this, a greater
army had encamped on the banks of the same Sweet
Waters. Then it was of Persians ; now it is of Turks ;
and curiously there are no soldiers to be seen, but
only working men, while the flotilla is composed of
carrying vessels; here boats laden with stone; there
boats with lime ; yonder boats piled high with timber.

At length the sun, drawing the last ravelling of
light after it, disappeared. About that time, the sea
gate in front of the Palace of Julian down at Con
stantinople opened, and a boat passed out into the
Marmora. Five men plied the oars. Two sat near
the stern. These latter were Count Corti and Ali, son
of Abed-din the Faithful.

Two hours prior, Ali, with a fresh catch of fish,
entered the gate, and finding no purchaser in the
galley, pushed on to the landing, and thence to the
Palace.

"O Emir," he said, when admitted to the Count,
"the Light of the World, our Lord Mahommed is
arrived."

The intelligence seemed to strike the Count with a
sudden ague.

"Where is he ? " he asked, his voice hollow as from
a closed helmet. Ere the other could answer, he
added a saving clause: ," May the love of Allah be to
him a staff of life!"

"He is at the White Castle with Mollahs, Pachas,
and engineers a host. . . . What a way they were
in, rushing here and there, like squealing swine, and
hunting quarters, if but a crib to lie in and blow!
Shintan take them, beards, boots, and turbans! So
have they lived on fat things, slept on divans of down
under hangings of silk, breathed perfumed airs in
crowded harems, Heaven knows if now they are even

371

fit to stop an arrow. They thought the old Castle of
Bajazet-Ilderim another Jehan-Numa. By the de
lights of Paradise, O Emir — ha, ha, ha ! — it was good
to see how little the Light of the World cared for
them ! At the Castle, he took in with him for house
hold the ancient Gabour Ortachi-Khalil and a Prince
of India, whom he calls his Messenger of the Stars ;
the rest were left to shift for themselves till their
tents arrive. Halting the Incomparables,* out be
yond Roumeli-Hissar, he summoned the Three Tails, f
nearly dead from fatigue, having been in the saddle
since morning, and rode off with them fast as his
Arab could gallop across the country, and down the
long hill behind Therapia, drawing rein at the gate
before the Palace of the Princess Irene."

"The Palace of the Princess Irene," the Count re
peated. ' ' What did he there ? "

" He dismounted, looked at the brass plate on the
gate-post, went in, and asked if she were at home.
Being told she was yet in the city, he said : ' A mes
sage for her to be delivered to-night. Here is a purse
to pay for going. Tell her Aboo-Obeidah, the Sing
ing Sheik ' — only the Prophet knows of such a Sheik
—'has been here, bidden by Sultan Mahommed to
see if her house had been respected, and inquire if
she has yet her health and happiness.' With that,
he called for his horse, and went through the garden
and up to the top of the promontory; then he re
turned to Hissar faster than he went to Therapia ; and
when, to take boat for the White Castle, he walked
down the height, two of the Three Tails had to be
lifted from their saddles, so nearly dead were they."

Here Ali stopped to laugh.

"Pardon me, O Emir," he resumed, "if I say last
* Janissaries. t Pachas.

what I should have said first, it being the marrow of
the bone I bring you. . . . Before sitting to his
pilaf, our Lord Mahommed sent me here. 'Thou
knowest to get in and out of the unbelieving city,'
he said. ' Go privily to the Emir Mirza, and bid him
come to me to-night.' "
"What now, Ali?"
"My Lord was too wise to tell me."
" It is a great honor, Ali. I shall get ready imme
diately."

When the night was deep enough to veil the de
parture, the Count seated himself in the fisher's boat,
a great cloak covering his armor. Half a mile below
the Sweet Waters the party was halted.
"What is this, Ali?"

" The Lord Mahommed's galleys of war are down
from the Black Sea. These are their outlyers. "

At the side of one of the vessels, the Count showed
the Sultan's signet, and there was no further inter
ruption.

A few words now with respect to Corti.
He had become a Christian. Next, the bewilder
ment into which the first sight of the Princess Irene
had thrown him instead of passing off had deepened
into hopeless love.

And farther— Constantine, a genuine knight him
self; in fact more knight than statesman; delighting
in arms, armor, hounds, horses, and martial exercises,
including tournaments, hawking, and hunting, found
one abiding regret on his throne— he could have a
favorite but never a comrade. The denial only stim
ulated the desire, until finally he concluded to bring
the Italian to Court for observation and trial, his
advancement to depend upon the fitness, tact, and
capacity he might develop.

373

One day an order was placed in the Count's hand,
directing him to find quarters at Blacherne. The
Count saw the honor intended, and discerned that ac
ceptance would place him in better position to get
information for Mahommed, but what would the ad
vantage avail if he were hindered in forwarding his
budget promptly ?

No, the mastership of the gate was of most impor
tance ; besides which the seclusion of the Julian resi
dence was so favorable to the part he was playing;
literally he had no one there to make him afraid.

Upon receipt of the order he called for his horse,
and rode to Blacherne, where his argument of the
necessity of keeping the Moslem crew of his galley
apart b.r ought about a compromise. His Majesty
would require the Count's presence during the day,
but permit him the nights at Julian. He was also
allowed to retain command of the gate.

A few months then found him in Constantino's
confidence, the imperial favorite. Yet more surpris
ing as a coincidence, he actually became to the Em
peror what he had been to Mahommed. He fenced
and jousted with him, instructed him in riding,
trained him to sword and bow. Every day during
certain hours he had his new master's life at mercy.
With a thrust of sword, stroke of battle-axe, or flash
of an arrow, it was in his power to rid Mahommed of
an opponent concerning whom he wrote : " O my
Lord, I think you are his better, yet if ever you meet
him in personal encounter, have a care." •

But the unexpected now happened to the Count.
He came to have an affection for this second lord
which seriously interfered with his obligations to the
first one. Its coming about was simple. Association
with the Greek forced a comparison with the Turk.

374

The latter's passion was a tide before which the better
gifts of God to rulers— mercy, justice, discrimination,
recognition of truth, loyalty, services— were as willows
in the sweep of a wave. Constantine, on the other
hand, was thoughtful, just, merciful, tender-hearted,
indisposed to offend or to fancy provocation intended.
The difference between a man with and a man with
out conscience— between a king all whose actuations
are dominated by religion and a king void of both
conscience and religion— slowly but surely, we say,
the difference became apparent to the Count, and had
its inevitable consequences.

Such was the Count's new footing in Blacherne.
The changes wrought in his feeling were forwarded
more than he was aware by the standing accorded
him in the reception-room of the Princess Irene.

After the affair at the Cynegion he had the delicacy
not to push himself upon the attention of the noble
lady. In preference he sent a servant every morning
to inquire after her health. Ere long he was the re
cipient of an invitation to come in person ; after which
his visits increased in frequency. Going to Blacherne,
and coming from it, he stopped at her house, and
with every interview it seemed his passion for her
intensified.

Now it were not creditable to the young Princess'
discernment to say she was blind to his feeling; yet
she was careful to conceal the discovery from him,
and still more careful not to encourage his hope. She
placed the favor shown him to the account of grati
tude; at the same time she admired him, and was
deeply interested in the religious sentiment he was
beginning to manifest.

In the Count's first audience after the rescue from
the lion, she explained how she came to be drawn to

375

the Cynegion. This led to detail of her relations
with Sergius, concluding with the declaration: "I
gave him the signal to speak in Sancta Sophia, and
felt I could not live if he died the death, sent to it by
me."

"Princess," the Count replied, "I heard the monk's
sermon in Sancta Sophia, but did not know of your
giving the signal. Has any one impugned your motive
in going to the Cynegion ? Give me his name. My
sword says you did well."

"Count Corti, the Lord has taken care pf His own."

"As you say, Princess Irene. Hear me before
addressing yourself to something else. . . . I re
member the words of the Creed— or if I have them
wrong correct me : ' I believe in God, and Jesus Christ,
his Son.'"

" It is word for word."

" Am I to understand you gave him the form ? "

" The idea is Father Hilarion's."

"And the Two Articles. Are they indeed sayings
of Jesus Christ?"

"Even so."

' ' Give me the book containing them. "

Taking a New Testament from the table, she gave
it to him.

" You will find the sayings easily. On the margins
opposite them there are markings illuminated in
gold."

" Thanks, O Princess, most humbly. I will return
the book."

"No, Count, it is yours."

An expression she did not understand darkened his
face.

' ' Are you a Christian ? " she asked.

He flushed deeply, and bowed while answering :

376

" My mother is a Christian."

That night Count Corti searched the book, and
found that the strength of faith underlying his
mother's prayers for his return to her, and the Prin
cess' determination to die with the monk, were but
Christian lights.

"Princess Irene," he said one day, "I have studied
the book you gave me ; and knowing now who Christ
is, I am ready to accept your Creed. Tell me how I
may know myself a believer ? "

A lamp in the hollow of an alabaster vase glows
through the transparency; so her countenance re
sponded to the joy behind it.

' ' Render obedience to His commands — do His will,
O Count — then wilt thou be a believer in Christ, and
know it."

The darkness she had observed fall once before on
his face obscured it again, and he arose and went out
in silence.

Brave he certainly was, and strong. Who could
strike like him ? He loved opposition for the delight
there was in overcoming it ; yet in his chamber that
night he was never so weak. He resorted to the book,
but could not read. It seemed to accuse him. "Thou
Islamite — thou son of Mahomet, though bom of a
Christian, whom servest thou ? Judas, what dost
thou in this city ? Hypocrite — traitor — which is thy
master, Mahomet or Christ ? "

He fell upon his knees, tore at his beard, buried his
head in his arms. He essayed prayer to Christ.

"Jesus — Mother of Jesus — O my mother ! " he cried
in agony.

The hour he was accustomed to give to Mahommed
came round. He drew out the writing materials.
"The Princess" — thus he began a sentence, but stopped

377

— something caught hold of his heart — the speaking
face of the beloved woman appeared to him — her
eyes were reproachful — her lips moved — she spoke:
' ' Count Corti, I am she whom thou lovest ; but what
dost thou ? Is it not enough to betray my kinsman ?
Thy courage — what makest thou of it but wickedness ?
. . . Write of me to thy master. Come every day,
and contrive that I speak, then tell him of it. Am I
sick ? Tell him of it. Do I hold to this or that ? Tell
him. Am I shaken by visions of ruin to my country ?
Tell him of them. What is thy love if not the ser
vant for hire of his love ? Traitor — panderer ! "

The Count pushed the table from him, and sprang
to foot writhing. To shut out the word abhorrent
above all other words, he clapped his hands tight over
his ears — in vain.

"Panderer ! " — he heard with his soul — " Panderer !
When thou hast delivered me to Mahommed, what is
he to give thee ? How much ? "

Thus shame, like a wild dog, bayed at him. For
relief he ran out into the garden. And it was only
the beginning of misery. Such the introduction or
first chapter, what of the catastrophe ? He could not
sleep for shame.

In the morning he ordered his horse, but had not
courage to go to Blacherne. How could he look at
the kindly face of the master he was betraying ? He
thought of the Princess. Could he endure her salu
tation ? She whom he was under compact to deliver
to Mahommed ? A paroxysm of despair seized him.

He rode to the Gate St. Romain, and out of it into
the country. Gallop, gallop — the steed was good — his
best Arab, fleet and tireless. Noon overtook him — few
things else could — still he galloped. The earth turned
into a green ribbon under the flying hoofs, and there

378

was relief in the speed. The air, whisked through,
was soothing. At length he came to a wood, wild
and interminable, Belgrade, though he knew it not,
and dismounting by a stream, he spent the day there.
If now and then the steed turned its eyes upon him,
attracted by his sighs, groans and prayer, there was
at least no accusation in them. The solitude was rest
ful ; and returning after nightfall, he entered the city
through the sortie under the Palace of Blacherne
known as the Cercoporta.

It is well pain of spirit has its intermissions ; other
wise long life could not be ; and if sleep bring them,
so much the better.

Next day betimes, the Count was at Blacherne.

"I pray grace, O my Lord!" he said, speaking to
the question in the Emperor's look. "Yesterday I
had to ride. This confinement in the city deadens
me. I rode all day. "

The good, easy master sighed : ' ' Would I had been
with you, Count."

Thus he dismissed the truancy. But with the Prin
cess it was a lengthy chapter. If the Emperor was
never so gracious, she seemed never so charming.
He wrote to Mahommed in the evening, and walked
the garden the residue of the night.

So weeks and months passed, and March came —
even the night of the twenty-fifth, with its order from
the Sultan to the White Castle — an interval of inde
cision, shame, and self-indictment. How many plans
of relief he formed who can say ? Suicide he put by,
a very last resort. There was also a temptation to
cut loose from Mahommed, and go boldly over to the
Emperor. That would be a truly Christian enlist
ment for the approaching war ; and aside from con
formity to his present sympathies, it would give him

379

a right to wear the Princess1 favor on his helmet.
But a fear shook ilio resort out of mind. Mahom-
med, whether successful or defeated, would demand
an explanation of him, possibly an accounting. He
knew the Sultan. Of all the schemes presented, the
most plausible was flight. There was the gate, and
he its keeper, and beyond the gate, the sunny Italian
shore, and his father's castle. The seas and sailing
between were as green landscapes to a weary prisoner,
and he saw in them only the joy of going and free
dom to do. Welcome, and to God the praise ! More
than once he locked his portables of greatest value in
the cabin of the galley. But alas ! He was in bonds.
Life in Constantinople now comprehended two of the
ultimate excellencies to him, Princess Irene and Christ
— and their joinder in the argument he took to be no
offence.

From one to another of these projects he passed,
and they but served to hide the flight of time. He
was drifting — ahead, and not far, he heard the thun
der of coming events — yet he drifted.

In this condition, the most envied man in Constan
tinople and the most wretched, the Sultan's order was
delivered to him by AH.

The time for decision was come. Tired — ashamed
—angry with himself, he determined to force the
end.

The Count arrived at the Castle, was immediately
admitted to the Sultan ; indeed, had he been less reso
lute, his master's promptitude would have been a cir
cumstance of disturbing significance.

Observation satisfied him Mahommed was in the
field ; for with all his Epicureanism in times of peace,
when a campaign was in progress the Conqueror re
solved himself into a soldierly example of indifference
VOL. ii.— 25

380

to luxury. In other words, with respect to furnish-
ment, the interior of the old Castle presented its every
day ruggedness.

One lamp fixed to the wall near the door of the
audience chamber struggled with the murk of a nar
row passage, giving to view an assistant chamberlain,
an armed sentinel, and two jauntily attired pages in
waiting. Surrendering his sword to the chamber
lain, the Count halted before the door, while being
announced ; at the same time, he noticed a man come
out of a neighboring apartment clad in black velvet
from head to foot, followed closely by a servant. It
was the Prince of India.

The mysterious person advanced slowly, his eyes
fixed on the floor, his velvet-shod feet giving out no
sound. His air indicated deep reflection. In previous
rencounters with him, the Count had been pleased ;
now his sensations were of repugnance mixed with
doubt and suspicion. He had not time to account for
the change. It may have had origin in the higher
prescience sometimes an endowment of the spirit by
which we stand advised of a friend or an enemy;
most likely, however, it was a consequence of the
curious tales abroad in Constantinople; for at the
recognition up sprang the history of the Prince's con
nection with Lael, and her abandonment by him, the
more extraordinary from the evidences of his attach
ment to her. Up sprang also the opinion of universal
prevalence in the city that he had perished in the
great fire. What did it all mean ? What kind of
man was he ?

The servant carried a package wrapped in gold-
embroidered green silk.

Coming near, the Prince raised his eyes — stopped—
smiled — and said :

381

"Count Corti— or Mirza the Emir — which have I
the honor of meeting ? "

In spite of the offence he felt, Corti blushed, such
a flood of light did the salutation let in upon the
falsity of his position. Far from losing presence of
mind, he perceived at once how intimately the Prince
stood in the councils of the Sultan.

" The Lord Mahommed must be heard before I can
answer," he returned, calmly.

In an instant the Prince became cordial.

' ' That was well answered, " he said. " I am pleased
to have my judgment of you confirmed. Your mis
sion has been a trying one, but you have conducted
it like a master. The Lord Mahommed has thanked
me many times that I suggested you for it. He is
impatient to see you. We will go in together."

Mahommed, in armor, was standing by a table on
which were a bare cimeter, a lamp brightly burning,
and two large unrolled maps. In one of the latter,
the Count recognized Constantinople and its environs
cast together from his own surveys.

Retired a few steps were the two Viziers, Kalil
Pacha and his rival, Saganos Pacha, the Mollah
Kourani, and the Sheik Akschem-sed-diii. The
preaching of the Mollah had powerfully contributed
to arousing the fanaticaj spirit of the Sultan's Mo
hammedan subjects. The four were standing in the
attitude usual to Turkish officials in presence of a
superior, their heads bowed, their hands upon their
stomachs. In speaking, if they raised their eyes from
the floor it was to shoot a furtive glance, then drop
them again.

"This is the grand design of the work by which
you will be governed," Mahommed said to the coun
sellors, laying the finger points of his right hand

382

upon the map unknown to the Count, and speaking
earnestly. "You will take it, and make copies to
night ; for if the stars fail not, I will send the masons
and their workmen to the other shore in the morning."

The advisers saluted — it would be difficult to say
which of them with the greatest unction.

Looking sharply at Kalil, the master asked : ' ' You
say you superintended the running of the lines in
person ? "

Kalil saluted separately, and returned : ' ' My Lord
may depend upon the survey."

' ' Very well. I wait now only the indication of
Heaven that the time is ripe for the movement. Is
the Prince of India coming ? "

"I am here, my Lord."

Mahommed turned as the Prince spoke, and let his
eyes rest a moment upon Count Corti, without a sign
of recognition.

"Come forward, Prince," he said. "What is the
message you bring me ? "

"My Lord," the Prince replied, after prostration,
"in the Hebrew Scriptures there is a saying in proof
of the influence the planets have in the affairs of men :
'Then fought the kings of Canaan in Taanach by
the waters of Megiddo ; they fought from heaven ; the
stars in their courses fought against Sisera.' Now
art thou truly Sultan of Sultans. To-morrow — the
twenty-sixth of March — will be memorable amongst
days, for then thou mayst begin the war with the
perfidious Greek. From four o'clock in the morning
the stars which fought against Sisera will fight for
Mahommed. Let those who love him salute and
rejoice."

The counsellors, dropping on their knees, fell for
ward, their faces on their hands. The Prince of India

did the same. Count Corti alone remained standing,
and Mahommed again observed him.

"Hear you," the latter said, to his officers. "Go
assemble the masons and their workmen, the masters
of boats, and the chiefs charged with duties. At four
o'clock in the morning I will move against Europe.
The stars have said it, and their permission is my
law. Rise!"

As his associates were moving backward with re
peated genuflections, the Prince of India spoke:

"O most favored of men! Let them stay a mo
ment."

At a sign from the Sultan they halted; thereupon
the Prince of India beckoned Syama to come, and
taking the package from his hands, he laid it on the
table.

"For my Lord Mahommed," he said.
"What is it ? " Mahommed demanded.
" A sign of conquest. . . . My Lord knows King
Solomon ruled the world in his day, its soul of
wisdom. At his death dominion did not depart from
him. The secret ministers in the earth, the air and
the waters, obedient to Allah, became his slaves. My
Lord knows of whom I speak. Who can resist them ?
In the tomb of Hiram, King of Tyre, the
friend of King Solomon, I found a sarcophagus. It
was covered with a model in marble of the Temple of
the Hebrew Almighty God. Removing the lid, lo!
the mummy of Hiram, a crown upon its head, and at
its feet the sword of Solomon, a present without price.
I brought it away, resolved to give it to him whom
the stars should elect for the overthrow of the super
stitions devised by Jesus, the bastard son of Joseph the
carpenter of Nazareth. . . . Undo the wrappings,
Lord Mahommed."

384

The Sultan obeyed, and laying the last fold of the
cloth aside, drew back staring, and with uplifted
hands.

" Kalil — Kouraiii — Akschem-sed-din — all of you,
come look. Tell me what it is— it blinds me."

The sword of Solomon lay before them ; its curved
blade a gleam of splendor, its scabbard a mass of bril
liants, its hilt a ruby so pure we may say it retained
in its heart the life of a flame.

"Take it in hand, Lord Mahommed," said the
Prince of India.

The young Sultan lifted the sword, and as he did
so down a groove in its back a stream of pearls started
and ran, ringing musically, and would not rest
while he kept the blade in motion. He was speech
less from wonder.

"Now may my Lord march upon Constantinople,
for the stars and every secret minister of Solomon will
fight for him."

So saying, the Prince knelt before the Sultan, and
laid his lips on the instep of his foot, adding : ' ' Oh,
my Lord ! with that symbol in hand, march, and
surely as Tabor is among the mountains and Carmel
by the sea, so surely Christ will give place to Maho
met in Sancta Sophia. March at four o'clock."

And the counsellors left kisses on the same instep,
and departed.

Thence through the night the noises of preparation
kept the space between the hills of the narrows alive
with echoes. At the hour permitted by the stars —
four o'clock — a cloud of boats cast loose from the
Asiatic shore, and with six thousand laborers, hand-
men to a thousand master masons, crossed at racing
speed to Europe. ' ' God is God, and Mahomet is his
Prophet," they shouted. The vessels of burden, those

385

with lime, those with stone, those with wood, followed
as they were called, and unloading, hauled
give place to others.

= Before sun up the lines of the triangular fort whose
walls near Roumeli-Hissar are yet intact, prospect-
ively a landmark enduring as the Pyramids, were
denned and swarming with laborers. The three
Pachas Kalil, Sarudje, and Saganos, supermtende
each a side of the work, and over them all, active and
fiercely zealous, moved Mahommed, the sword c
mon in his hand.

And there was no lack of material for the structi
extensive as it was. Asia furnished its quota, and
Christian towns and churches on the Bosphorus were
remorselessly levelled for the stones in them; where
fore the outer faces of the curtains and towers are yet
speckled with marbles in block, capital and column.

Thus Mahommed, taking his first step in the war so
long a fervid dream, made sure of his base of opera
tions.

On the twenty-eighth of August, the work com
pleted from his camp on the old Asomaton promon
tory he reconnoitred the country up to the ditch of
Constantinople, and on the first of September betook
himself to Adrianople.

CHAPTER II

HAHOMMED AND COUNT COETI MAKE A WAGER

UPON the retirement of the Prince of India and the
counsellors, Mahommed took seat by the table, and
played with the sword of Solomon, making the pearls
travel up and down the groove in the blade, listening
to their low ringing, and searching for inscriptions.
This went on until Count Corti began to think himself
forgotten. At length the Sultan, looking under the
guard, uttered an exclamation — looked again — and
cried out:

' ' O Allah ! It is true ! — May I be forgiven for doubt
ing him ! — Come, Mirza, corne see if my eyes deceive
me. Here at my side ! "

The Count mastered his surprise, and was presently
leaning over the Sultan's shoulder.

' ' You remember, Mirza, we set out together study
ing Hebrew. Against your will I carried you along
with me until you knew the alphabet, and could read
a little. You preferred Italian, and when I brought
the learned men, and submitted to them that Hebrew
wras one of a family of tongues more or less alike, and
would have sent you with them to the Sidoiiian coast
for inscriptions, you refused. Do you remember ? "

' ' My Lord, those were the happiest days of my life. "

Mahommed laughed. ' ' I kept you three days on
bread and water, and let you off then because I could
not do without you. . _. . But for the matter now.

387

Under this guard — look — are not the brilliants set in
the form of letters ? "

Corti examined closely.

"Yes, yes; there are letters — I see them plainly —
a name."

"Spell it."

"S-O-L-O-M-O-N."

"Then I have not deceived myself," Mahommed
exclaimed. ' ' Nor less has the Prince of India de
ceived me." He grew more serious. "A marvellous
man ! I cannot make him out. The more I do with
him the more incomprehensible he becomes. The
long past is familiar to him as the present to me. He
is continually digging up things ages old, and amaz
ing me with them. Several times I have asked him
when he was born, and he has always made the same
reply : ' I will tell when you are Lord of Constan
tinople.' . . .' How he hates Christ and the Chris
tians ! . . . This is indeed the sword of Solomon —
and he found it in the tomb of Hiram, and gives it to
me as the elect of the stars now. Ponder it, O Mirza !
Now at the mid of the night in which I whistle up my
dogs of war to loose them 011 the Gabour — How, Mirza
— what ails you ? Why that change of countenance ?
Is he not a dog of an unbeliever ? On your knees be
fore me — I have more to tell you than to ask. No,
spurs are troublesome. To the door and bid the keeper
there bring a stool — and look lest the lock have an ear
hanging to it. Old Kalil, going out, though bowing,
and lip-handing me, never took his eyes off you."

The stool brought, Corti was about to sit.

"Take off your cap" — Mahommed spoke sternly
— "for as you are not the Mirza I sent away, I want
to see your face while we talk. Sit here, in the full
of the light"

The Count seated, placed his hooded cap on the
floor. He was perfectly collected. Mahommed fin
gered the ruby hilt while searching the eyes which as
calmly searched his.

"How brave you are!" the Sultan began, but
stopped. "Poor Mirza ! " he began again, his counte
nance softened. One would have said some tender
recollection was melting the shell of his heart. ' ' Poor
Mirza! I loved you better than I loved my father,
better than I loved my brothers, well as I loved my
mother — with a love surpassing all I ever knew but
one, and of that we will presently speak. If honor
has a soul, it lives in you, and the breath you draw
is its wine, purer than the first expressage of grapes
from the Prophet's garden down by Medina. Your
eyes look truth, your tongue drips it as a broken
honey-comb drips honey. You are truth as God is
God."

He was speaking sincerely.

" Fool— fool— that I let you go!— and I would not
— no, by the rose-door of Paradise and the golden
stairs to the House of Allah, I would not had I loved
my full moon of full moons less. She was parted
from me; and with whose eyes could I see her so
well as with yours, O my falcon ? Who else would
report to me so truly her words ? Love makes men
and lions mad; it possessed me; and I should have
died of it but for your ministering. Wherefore, O
Mirza " —

The Count had been growing restive ; now he
spoke.

"My Lord is about committing himself to some
pledge. He were wise, did he hear me first. "

"Perhaps so," the Sultan rejoined, uncertainly, but
added immediately: "I will hear you."

" It is true, as my Lord said, I am not the Mirza he
despatched to Italy. The changes I have undergone
are material ; and in recounting them I anticipate his
anger. He sees before him the most wretched of men
to whom death would be mercy."

"Is it so bad? You were happy when you went
away. Was not the mission to your content ? "

"My Lord's memory is a crystal cup from which
nothing escapes — a cup without a leak. He must re
call how I prayed to stay with him."

"Yes, yes."

"My dread was prophetic."

" Tell me of the changes."

" I will— and truly as there is but one God, and he
the father of life and maker of things. First, then,
the affection which at my going was my Lord's,
and which gave me to see him as the Light of the
World, and the perfection of glory in promise, is now
divided."

"You mean there is another Light of the World ?
Be it so, and still you leave me nattered. How far
you had to travel before finding the other ! Who is
he?"

"The Emperor of the Greeks."

" Constantine ? Are his gifts so many and rich?
The next."

" I am a Christian."

" Indeed ? Perhaps you can tell me the difference
between God and Allah. Yesterday Kourani said
they were the same."

"Nay, my Lord, the difference is between Christ
and Mahomet."

" The mother of the one was a Jewess, the mother
of the other an Arab — I see. Goon."

The Count did not flinch.

390

"My Lord, great as is your love of the Princess
Irene " — Mahommed half raised his hands, his brows
knit, his eyes filled with fire, but the Count continued
composedly — " mine is greater."

The Sultan recovered himself.

"The proof, the proof!" he said, his voice a little
raised. ' ' My love of her is consuming me, but I see
you alive."

' ' My Lord's demand is reasonable. I came here to
make the avowal, and die. Would my Lord so much ? "

' ' You would die for the Princess ? "

" My Lord has said it."

' ' Is there not something else in the urgency ? "

"Yes— honor."

The Count's astonishment was unspeakable. He
expected an outburst of wrath unappeasable, a sum
mons for an executioner; instead, Mahommed's eyes
became humid, and resting his elbow on the table,
and his face on the thumb and forefinger, he said,
gazing sorrowfully :

"Ahmed was my little brother. His mother pub
lished before my father's death, that my mother was
a slave. She was working for her child already, and
I had him smothered in a bath. Cruel? God forgive
me ! It was my duty to provide for the peace of my
people. I had a right to take care of myself ; yet will
I never be forgiven. Kismet! ... I have had
many men slain since. I travel, going to mighty
events beckoned by destiny. The ordinary cheap soul
cannot understand how necessary it is that my path
should be smooth and clear ; for sometime I may want
to run; and he will amuse or avenge himself by
stamping me in history a monster without a soul.
Kismet ! . . . But you, my poor Mirza, you
should know me better. You are my brother without

391

guile. I am not afraid to love you. I do love you.
Let us see. . . . Your letters from Constantinople
— I have them all — told me so much more than you
intended, I could not suspect your fidelity. They pre
pared me for everything you have confessed. Hear
how in my mind I disposed of them point by point.
. . . * Mirza,' I said, ' pities the Gabour Emperor ;
in the end he will love him. Loving a hundred men
is less miraculous in a man than loving1 one. He will
make comparisons. Why not ? The Gabour appeals
to him through his weakness, I through my strength.
I would rather be feared than pitied. Moreover, the
Gabour 's day runs to its close, and as it closes, mine
opens. Pity never justified treason.' . . . And I
said, too, on reading the despatch detailing your
adventures in Italy : ' Poor Mirza ! now has he discov
ered he is an Italian, stolen when a child, and having
found his father's castle and his mother, a noble
woman, he will become a Christian, for so would I in
his place.' Did I stop there ? The wife of the Pacha
who received you from your abductors is in Broussa.
I sent to her asking if she had a keepsake or memento
which would help prove your family and country.
See what she returned to me."

From under a cloth at the further end of the table,
Mahommed drew a box, and opening it, produced a
collar of lace fastened with a cameo pin. On the pin
there was a graven figure.

"Tell me, Mirza, if you recognize the engraving."
The Count took the cameo, looked at it, and replied,
with a shaking voice :

" The arms of the Corti ! God be praised !"
" And here — what are these, and what the name on
them?"

Mahommed gave him a pair of red morocco half-

392

boots for a child, on which, near the tops, a name was
worked in silk.

" It is mine, my Lord — my name — ' Ugo.' "

He cast himself before the Sultan, and embraced
his knees, saying1, in snatches as best he could :

" I do not know what my Lord intends — whether
he means I am to die or live — if it be death, I pray
him to complete his mercy by sending these proofs to
my mother " —

' ' Poor Mirza, arise ! I prefer to have your face be
fore me."

Directly the Count was reseated, Mahommed con
tinued :

"And you, too, love the Princess Irene? You say
you lo^e ner more than I ? And you thought I could
not endure hearing you tell it ? That I would sum
mon black Hassan with his bowstring? With all
your opportunities, your seeing and hearing her, as
the days multiplied from tens to hundreds, is it for
me to teach you she will come to no man except as a
sacrifice ? What great thing have you to offer her ?
While I — well, by this sword of Solomon, to-morrow
morning I set out to say to her : ' For thy love, O my
full Moon of full Moons, for thy love thou shalt have
the redemption of thy Church. ' . . . And besides,
did I not foresee your passion ? Courtiers stoop low
and take pains to win favor ; but no courtier, not even
a professional, intending merely to please me, could
have written of her as you did ; and by that sign, O
Mirza, I knew you were in the extremity of passion.
Offended? Not so, not so! I sent you to take care of
her— fight for her— die, if her need were so great. Of
whom might I expect such service but a lover ? Did
I not, the night of our parting, foretell what would
happen ? "

393

He paused gazing at the ruby of the ring on his
finger.

"See, Mirza! There has not been a waking hour
since you left me but I have looked at this jewel ; and
it has kept color faithfully. Often as I beheld it, I
said : l Mirza loves her because he cannot help it ; yet
he is keeping honor with me. Mirza is truth, as God
is God. From his hand will I receive her in Con
stantinople ' '

"O my Lord"—

' ' Peace, peace ! The night wanes, and you have to
return. Of what was I speaking ? Oh, yes "-

" But hear me, my Lord. At the risk of your dis
pleasure I must speak."

"What is it?"

" In her presence my heart is always like to burst,
yet, as I am to be judged in the last great day, I have
kept faith with my Lord. Once she thanked me— it
was after -I offered myself to the lion— O Heaven!
how nearly I lost my honor ! Oh, the agony of that
silence ! The anguish of that remembrance ! I have
kept the faith, my Lord. But day by day now the
will to keep it grows weaker. All that holds me stead
fast is my position in Constantinople. What am I
there ? "

The Count buried his face in his hands, and through
the links in his surcoat the tremor which shook his
body was apparent.

Mahommed waited. •

" What am I there ? Having come to see the good
ness of the Emperor, I must run daily to betray him.
I am a Christian ; yet as Judas sold his Master, I am
under compact to sell my religion. I love a noble
woman, yet am pledged to keep her safely, and deliver
her to another. O my Lord, my Lord ! This cannot

394

s;o on. Shame is a vulture, and it is tearing me — my
heart bleeds in its beak. Eelease me, or give me to
death. If you love me, release me."

"Poor Mirza 1"

" My Lord, I am not afraid."

Mahommed struck the table violently, and his
eyes glittered. " That ever one should think I loved
a coward! Yet more intolerable, that he whom I
have called brother should know me so little ! Can it
be, O Mirza, can it be, you tell me these things imag
ining them new to me ? . . . Let me have done.
What we are saying would have become us ten years
ago, not now. It is unmanly. I had a purpose in
sending for you. . . . Your mission in Constanti
nople ends in the morning at four o'clock. In other
words, O Mirza, the condition passes from prepara
tion for war with the Gdbour to war. Observe now.
You are a fighting man — a knight of skill and cour
age. In the rencounters to which I am going— the
sorties, the assaults, the duels single and in force, the
exchanges with all arms, bow, arbalist, guns small
and great, the mines and countermines — you cannot
stay out. You must fight. Is it not so ? "

Corti's head arose, his countenance brightened.

' ' My Lord, I fear I run forward of your words-
forgive me."

" Yes, give ear. . . . The question now is, whom
\\ ill you fight— me or the Gabour ? "

" O my Lord"—

"Be quiet, I say. T^he issue is not whether you
love me less. I prefer you give him your best ser
vice. "

"How, my Lord?"

' ' I am not speaking in contempt, but with full
knowledge of your superiority with weapons — of the

395

many of mine who must go down before you. And
that you may not be under restraint of conscience or
arm-tied in the melee, I not only conclude your mis
sion, but release you from every obligation to me."

" Every obligation ! "

' ' I know my words, Emir, yet I will leave nothing
uncertain. . . . You will go back to the city free
of every obligation to me — arm-free, mind-free. Be
a Christian, if you like. Send me no more despatches
advisory of the Emperor "-

" And the Princess Irene, my Lord ? "

Mahommed smiled at the Count's eagerness.

"Have patience, Mirza. ... Of the moneys
had from me, and the properties heretofore mine in
trust, goods, horses, arms, armor, the galley and its
crew, I give them to you without an accounting.
You cannot deliver them to me or dispose of them,
except with an explanation which would weaken your
standing in Blacherne, if not undo you utterly. You
have earned them."

Corti's face reddened.

' ' With all my Lord's generosity, I cannot accept
this favor. Honor " —

' ' Silence, Emir, and hear me. I have never been
careless of your honor. When you set out for Italy,
preparatory to the mission at Constantinople, you
owed me duty, and there was 110 shame in the per
f ormance ; but now — so have the changes wrought —
that which was honorable to Mirza the Emir is scan
dalous to Count Corti. After four o'clock you will
owe me no duty ; neither will you be in my service.
From that hour Mirza, my falcon, will cease to be.
He will have vanished. Or if ever I know him more,
it will be as Count Corti, Christian, stranger, and

enemy."

VOL. ii.— 26

" Enemy— my Lord's enemy ? Never! "

The Count protested with extended arms.

"Yes, circumstances will govern. And now the
Princess Irene. "

Mahommed paused; then, summoning his might
of will, and giving it expression in a look, he laid a
forcible hand on the listener's shoulder.

"Of her now. ... I have devised a promo
tion for you, Emir. After to-night we will be rivals."

Corti was speechless — he could only stare.

"By the rose-door of Paradise— the only oath fit
for a lover — or, as more becoming a knight, by this
sword of Solomon, Emir, I mean the rivalry to be
becoming and just. I have an advantage of you.
With women rank and riches are as candles to moths.
On the other side your advantage is double ; you are
a Christian, and may be in her eyes day after day.
And not to leave you in mean condition, I give you
the moneys and property now in your possession ; not
as a payment— God forbid !— but for pride's sake— my
pride. Mahommed the Sultan may not dispute with
a knight who has only a sword."

"I have estates in Italy."

"They might as well be in the moon. I shall en
close Constantinople before you could arrange with
the Jews, and have money enough to buy a feather
for your cap. If this were less true, comes then the
argument : How can you dispose of the properties in
hand, and quiet the gossips in the Gabour's palace ?
' Where are your horses ? ' they will ask. What
answer have you ? ' Where your galley ? ' Answer.
' Where your Mohammedan crew ? ' Answer. "

The Count yielded the debate, saying: "I cannot
comprehend my Lord. Such thing was never heard
of before."

397

"Must men be restrained because the thing they
wish to do was never heard of before ? Shall I not
build a mosque with five minarets because other build
ers stopped with three ? ... To the sum of it all
now. Christian or Moslem, are you willing to refer
our rivalry for the young woman to God ? "

" My wonder grows with listening to my Lord."

"Nay, this surprises you because it is new. I
have had it in mind for months. It did not come
to me easily. It demanded self-denial — something
I am unused to. ... Here it is — I am willing to
call Heaven in, and let it decide whether she shall
be mine or yours — this lily of Paradise whom all men
love at sight. Dare you as much ? "

The soldier spirit arose in the Count.

' ' Now or then, here or there, as my Lord may ap
point. I am ready. He has but to name his cham
pion."

' ' I protest. The duel would be unequal. As well
match a heron and a hawk. There is a better way
of making our appeal. Listen. . . . The walls of
Constantinople have never succumbed to attack.
Hosts have dashed against them, and fled or been lost.
It may be so with me ; but I will march, and in my
turn assault them, and thou defending with thy best
might. If I am beaten, if I retire, be the cause of fail
ure this or that, we — you and I, O Mirza — will call it a
judgment of Heaven, and the Princess shall be yours ;
but if I succeed and enter the city, it shall be a judg
ment no less, and then " — Mahommed's eyes were full
of fire— "then"—

"What then, my Lord?"

' ' Thou shalt see to her safety in the last struggle,
and conduct her to Sancta Sophia, and there deliver
her to me as ordered by God."

Corti was never so agitated. He turned pale and
red — he trembled visibly.

Mahommed asked mockingly: "Is it Mirza I am
treating with, or Count Corti ? Are Christians so un
willing to trust God ? "

"But, my Lord, it is a wager you offer me "-

"Call it so."

' ' And its conditions imply slavery for the Princess.
Change them, my Lord — allow her to be consulted
and have her will, be the judgment this or that."

Mahommed clinched his hands.

' ' Am I a brute ? Did ever woman lay her head on
my breast perforce ? "

The Count replied, firmly :

"Such a condition would be against us both alike."

The Sultan struggled with himself a moment.

"Be it so," he rejoined. "The wager is my pro
posal, and I will go through with it. Take the condi
tion, Emir. If I win, she shall come to me of her free
will or not at all."

' A wife, my Lord ? "

"In my love first, and in my household first — my
Sultana."

The animation which then came to the Count was
wonderful. He kissed Mahommed's hand.

' ' Now has my Lord outdone himself in generosity.
I accept. In no other mode could the issue be made
so absolutely a determination of Heaven."

Mahommed arose.

"We are agreed. — The interview is finished. — Ali is
waiting for you."

He replaced the cover on the box containing the
collar and the half-boots.

' ' I will send these to the Countess your mother ;
for hereafter you are to be to me Ugo, Count

399

Corti. . . . My falcon hath cast its jess and hood.
Mirza is no more. Farewell Mirza."

Corti was deeply moved. Prostrating himself, he
arose, and replied :

" I go hence more my Lord's lover than ever. Death
to the stranger who in my presence takes his name in
vain.."

As he was retiring, Mahommed spoke again :

' ' A word, Count. ... In what we are going to,
the comfort and safety of the Princess Irene may re
quire you to communicate with me. You have ready
wit for such emergencies. Leave me a suggestion."

Corti reflected an instant.

' ' The signal must proceed from me, " he said. ' ' My
Lord will pitch his tent in sight "-

"By Solomon, and this his sword, yes! Every
Gabour who dares look over the wall shall see it
while there is a hill abiding."

The Count bowed.

' ' I know my Lord, and give him this — God help
ing me, I will make myself notorious to the besiegers
as he will be to the besieged. If at any time he sees
my banderole, or if it be reported to him, let him look
if my shield be black; if so, he shall come himself
with a shield the color of mine, and place himself in
my view. My Lord knows I make my own arrows.
If I shoot one black feathered, he must pick it up.
The ferrule will be of hollow lead covering a bit of
scrip."

' ' Once more, Count Corti, the issue is with God.
Goodnight."

Traversing the passage outside the door, the Count
met the Prince of India.

"An hour ago I would have entitled you Emir;
but now" — the Prince smiled while speaking — "I

400

have stayed to thank Count Corti for his kindness to
my black friend Nilo. "

' ' Your servant ? "

" My friend and ally— Nilo the King. ... If
the Count desires to add to the obligation, he will
send the royal person to me with AH when he returns
to-night."

"I will send him."

"Thanks, Count Corti."

The latter lingered, gazing into the large eyes and
ruddy face, expecting at least an inquiry after Lael.
He received merely a bow, and the words: " We will
meet again."

Night was yet over the city, when Ali, having
landed the Count, drew out of the gate with Nilo.
The gladness of the King at being restored to his
master can be easily fancied.

CHAPTER III

THE BLOODY HARVEST

IN June, a few days after the completion of the
enormous work begun by Mahommed on the Aso-
meton promontory, out of a gate attached to the High
Residence of Blacherne, familiarly known as the Oali-
garia, there issued a small troop of horsemen of the
imperial military establishment.

The leader of this party— ten in all— was Count
Corti. Quite a body of spectators witnessed the exit,
and in their eyes he was the most gallant knight they
had ever seen. They cheered him as, turning to the
right after issuance from the gate, he plunged at a
lively trot into the ravine at the foot of the wall, prac
tically an immense natural fosse. ' ' God and our Lady
of Blacherne," they shouted, and continued shouting
while he was in sight, notwithstanding he did not so
much as shake the banderole on his lance in reply.

Of the Count's appearance this morning it is un
necessary to say more than that he was in the suit of
light armor habitual to him, and as an indication of
serious intent, bore, besides the lance, a hammer or
battle-axe fixed to his saddle-bow, a curved sword con
siderably longer, though not so broad as a cimeter, a
bow and quiver of arrows at his back, and a small
shield or buckler over the quiver. The favorite chest
nut Arab served him for mount, its head and neck
clothed in flexible mail.

The nine men following were equipped like him
self in every particular, except that their heads were
protected by close-fitting conical caps, and instead
of armor on their legs, they wore flowing red trous
ers.

Of them it may be further remarked, their mode of
riding, due to their short stirrups, was indicative of
folk akin to the Bedouin of the Desert.

Upon returning from the last interview with Ma-
hommed in the White Castle, the Count had sub
jected the crew of his galley to rigorous trial of fitness
for land service. Nine of them he found excellent
riders after their fashion, and selecting them as the
most promising, he proceeded to instruct them in the
use of the arms they were now bearing. His object in
this small organization was a support to rush in after
him rather than a battle front. That is, in a charge
he was to be the lance's point, and they the broaden
ing of the lance's blade ; while he was engaged, intent
on the foe before him, eight of them were to guard
him right and left, and, as the exigencies of combat
might demand, open and close in fan-like movement.
The ninth man was a fighter in their rear. In the
simple manoeuvring of this order of battle he had
practised them diligently through the months. The
skill attained was remarkable ; and the drilling hav
ing been in the Hippodrome, open to the public, the
concourse to see it had been encouraging.

In truth, the wager with Mahommed had supplied
the Count with energy of body and mind. He studied
the chances of the contest, knowing how swiftly it
was coming, and believed it possible to defend the city
successfully. At all events, he would do his best,
and if the judgment were adverse, it should not be
through default on his part.

403

The danger — and he discerned it with painful clear
ness — was in the religious dissensions of the Greeks ;
still he fancied the first serious blow struck by the
Turks, the first bloodshed, would bring- the factions
together, if only for the common safety.

It is well worth while here to ascertain the views
and feelings of the people whom Count Corti was thus
making ready to defend. This may be said of them
generally : It seemed impossible to bring them to be
lieve the Sultan really intended war against the city.

"What if he does ?" they argued. "Who but a
young fool would think of such a thing ? If he comes,
we will show him the banner of the Blessed Lady
from the walls."

If in the argument there was allusion to the tower ,
on the Asomaton heights, so tall one could stand on
its lead-covered roof, and looking over the interme
diate hills, almost see into Constantinople, the careless
populace hooted at the exaggeration : ' ' There be royal
idiots as well as every-day idiots. Staring at us is one
thing, shooting at us is another. Towers with walls
thirty feet thick are not movable."

One day a report was wafted through the gates that
a gun in the water battery of the new Turkish fort
had sunk a passing ship. ' ' What flag was the ship
flying?" "The Venetian." "Ah, that settles it,"
the public cried. "The Sultan wants to keep the
Venetians out of the Black Sea. The Turks and
the Venetians have always been at war."

A trifle later intelligence came that the Sultan, lin
gering at Basch-Kegan, supposably because the air
along the Bosphorus was better than the air at Adri-
anople, had effected a treaty by which the Podesta of
Galata bound his city to neutrality ; still the compla
cency of the Byzantines was in no wise disturbed.

404

"Score one for the Genoese. It is good to hear of
their beating the Venetians. "

Occasionally a wanderer — possibly a merchant,
more likely a spy — passing the bazaars of Byzantium,
entertained the booth-keepers with stories of cannon
being cast for the Sultan, so big that six men tied
together might be fired from them at once. The
Greeks only jeered. Some said : ' ' Oh, the Mahound
must be intending a salute for the man in the moon
of Eamazan ! " Others decided : ' ' Well, he is crazier
than we thought him. There are many hills on the
road to Adrianople, and at the foot of every hill there
is a bridge. To get here he must invent wings for
his guns, and even then it will be long before they
,can be taught to fly."

At times, too, the old city was set agog with rumors
from the Asiatic provinces opposite that the Sultan
was levying unheard-of armies ; he had half a million
recruits already, but wanted a million. "Oh, he
means to put a lasting quietus on Huniades and
his Hungarians. He is sensible in taking so many
men."

In compliment to the intelligence of the public, this
obliviousness to danger had one fostering circum
stance — the gates of the city on land and water stood
open day and night.

"See," it was everywhere said, "the Emperor is
not alarmed. Who has more at stake than he ? He
is a soldier, if he is an azymite. He keeps ambassa
dors with the Sultan— what for, if not to be advised ? "

And there was a great deal in the argument.

At length the Greek ambassadors were expelled by
Mahommed. It was while he lay at Basch-Kegan.
They themselves brought the news. This was omi
nous, yet the public kept its spirits. The churches,

405

notably Sancta Sophia, were more than usually
crowded with women ; that was all, for the gates not
only remained open, but traffic went in and out of
them unhindered— out even to the Turkish camp,
the Byzantines actually competing with their neigh
bors of Galata in the furnishment of supplies. Nay,
at this very period every morning a troop of the Im
perial guard convoyed a wagon from Blacherne out to
Basch-Kegan laden with the choicest food and wines;
and to the officer receiving them the captain of the
convoy invariably delivered himself: "From His
Majesty, the Emperor of the Eomans and Greeks, to
the Lord Mahommed, Sultan of the Turks. Prosper
ity and long life to the Sultan."

If these were empty compliments, if the relations
between the potentates were slippery, if war were
hatching, what was the Emperor about?

Six months before the fort opposite the White
Castle was begun, Coiistantine had been warned of
Mahommed's projected movement against his capital.
The warning was from Kalil Pacha; and whether
Kalil was moved by pity, friendship, or avarice is
of no moment; certain it is the Emperor acted upon
the advice. He summoned a council, and proposed
war; but was advised to send a protesting embassy to
the enemy. A scornful answer was returned. Seeing
the timidity of his cabinet, cast upon himself, he
resolved to effect a policy, and accordingly expostu
lated, prayed, sent presents, offered tribute, and by
such means managed to satisfy his advisers; yet all
the time he was straining his resources in prepara
tion.

In the outset, he forced himself to face two facts
of the gravest import: first, of his people, those of
age and thews for fighting were in frocks, burrowing

406

in monasteries; next, the clergy and their affiliates
were his enemies, many openly preferring- a Turk to
an azymite. A more discouraging- prospect it is dif
ficult to imagine. There was but one hope left him.
Europe was full of professional soldiers. Perhaps the
Pope had influence to send him a sufficient coiiting-ent.
Would His Holiness interest himself so far? The
brave Emperor despatched an embassy to Rome,
promising submission to the Papacy, and praying-
help in Christ's name.

Meantime his agents dispersed themselves through
the JUgean, buying provisions and arms, enginery,
and war material of all kinds. This business kept
his remnant of a navy occupied. Every few days
a vessel would arrive with stores for the magazine
under the Hippodrome. By the time the fort at
Roumeli Hissar was finished, one of his anxieties was
in a measure relieved. The other was more serious.
Then the frequency with which he climbed the Tower
of Isaac, the hours he passed there gazing wistfully
southward down the mirror of the Marmora, became
observable. The valorous, knightly heart, groaning
under the humiliations of the haughty Turk, weary
not less of the incapacity of his own people to per
ceive their peril, arid arise heroically to meet it, found
opportunity to meditate while he was pacing the lofty
lookout, and struggling to descry the advance of the
expected succor.

In this apology the reader who has wondered at the
inaction of the Emperor what time the Sultan was
perfecting his Asiatic communications is answered.
There was nothing for him but a siege. To that al
ternative the last of the Romans was reduced. He
could not promise himself enough of his own subjects
to keep the gates, much less take the field.

407

The country around Constantinople was given to
agriculture. During the planting season, and the
growing, the Greek husbandmen, received neither
offence nor alarm from the Turks. But in June,
when the emerald of the cornfields was turning to
gold, herds of mules and cavalry horses began to
ravage the fields, and the watchmen, hastening from
their little huts 011 the hills to drive them out, were
set upon by the soldiers and beaten. They com
plained to the Emperor, and he sent an embassy to
the Sultan praying him to save the crops from ruin.
In reply, Mahommed ordered the son of Isfendiar, a
relative, to destroy the harvest. The peasants resisted,
and not unsuccessfully. In the South, and in the
fields near Hissar 011 the north, there were deaths
on both sides. Intelligence of the affair coming to
Constantino, he summoned Count Corti.

" The long expected has arrived," he said. " Blood
has been shed. My people have been attacked and
slain in their fields; their bodies lie out unburied.
The war cannot be longer deferred. It is true the
succors from the Holy Father have not arrived ; but
they are on the way, and until they come we must
defend ourselves. Cold and indifferent my people
have certainly been. Now I will make a last effort
to arouse them. Go out toward Hissar, and recover
the dead. Have the bodies brought in just as they
are. I will expose them in the Hippodrome. Per
haps their bruises and blood may have an effect ; if
not, God help this Christian city. I will give you a
force."

"Ycnr Majesty," the Count replied, "such an ex
pedition might provoke an advance upon the city be
fore you are entirely prepared. Permit me to select
a party from my own men."

" As you choose. A guide will accompany you."

To get to the uplands, so to speak, over which, north
of Galata, the road to Hissar stretched, Corti was
conducted past the Cynegion. and through the districts
of Eyoub to the Sweet Waters of Europe, which he
crossed by a bridge below the site of the present
neglected country palace of the Sultan. Up on the
heights he turned left of Pera, and after half an
hour's rapid movement was trending northward par
allel with the Bosphorus, reaches of which were occa
sionally visible through cleftings of the mountainous
shore. Straw-thatched farmhouses dotted the hills
and slopes, and the harvest spread right and left in
cheerful prospect.

The adventurer had ample time to think ; but did
little of it, being too full of self-gratulation at hav
ing before him an opportunity to recommend him
self to the Ernperor, with a possibility of earning
distinction creditable in the opinion of the Princess
Irene.

At length an exclamation of his guide aroused him
to action.

"The Turks, the Turks I'1

"Where?"

"See that smoke."

Over a hilltop in his front, the Count beheld the
sign of alarm crawling slowly into the sky.

" Here is a village — to our left, but" —

" Have done," said Corti, " and get me to the fire.
Is there a nearer way than this ? "

" Yes, under the hill yonder."

" Is it broken ?"

"It narrows to a path, but is clear."

The Count spoke in Arabic to his followers, and
taking the gallop, pushed the guide forward. Short-

409

ly a party of terror-stricken peasants ran down to
ward him.

"Why do you run? What is the matter?" he
asked.

" Oh, the Turks, the Turks ! "

" What of them ? Stand, and tell me."

"We went to work this morning cutting corn, for
it is now ripe enough. The Mahounds broke in on
us. We were a dozen to their fifty or more. We
only escaped, and they set fire to the field. O Christ,
and the Most Holy Mother ! Let us pass, or we too
will be slain ! "

" Are they mounted ? "

" Some have horses, some are afoot."

" Where are they now ? "

" In the field on the hill."

' ' Well, go to the village fast as you can, and tell
the men there to come and pick up their dead. Tell
them not to fear, for the Emperor has sent me to take
care of them."

With that the Count rode on.

This was the sight presented him when he made the
ascent : A wheat field sloping gradually to the north
east; fire creeping across it crackling, smoking, mo
mentarily widening ; through the cloud a company of
Turkish soldiers halted, mostly horsemen, their arms
glinting brightly in the noon sun ; blackened objects,
unmistakably dead men, lying here and there. Thus
the tale of the survivors of the massacre was con
firmed.

Corti gave his lance with the banderole on it to
the guide. By direction his Berbers drove their lances
into the earth that they might leave them standing,
drew their swords, and brought their bucklers for
ward. Then he led them into the field. A few words

410

more, directions probably, and he started toward the
enemy, his followers close behind two and two, with a
rear-guardsman. He allowed no outcry, but gradu
ally increased the pace.

There were two hundred and more yards to be
crossed, level, except the slope, and with only the
moving line of fire as an impediment. The crop,
short and thin, was no obstacle under the hoofs.

The Turks watched the movement herded, like as
tonished sheep. They may not have comprehended
that they were being charged, or they may have de
spised the assailants on account of their inferiority in
numbers, or they may have relied on the fire as a
defensive wall ; whatever the reason, they stood pas
sively waiting.

When the Count came to the fire, he gave his horse
the spur, and plunging into the smoke and through
the flame full speed, appeared on the other side, shout
ing : ' ' Christ and Our Lady of Blacherne ! " His long
sword flashed seemingly brighter of the passage just
made. Fleckings of flame clung to the horses. What
the battle-cry of the Berbers we may not tell. They
screamed something un-Christian, echoes of the Desert.
Then the enemy stirred; some drew their blades,
some strung their bows ; the footmen amongst them
caught their javelins or half -spears in the middle, and
facing to the rear, fled, and kept flying, without once
looking over their shoulders.

One man mounted, and in brighter armor than the
others, his steel cap surmounted with an immense
white turban, a sparkling aigrette pinned to the tur
ban, cimeter in hand, strove to form his companions
—but it was too late. " Christ and our Lady of Bla
cherne!"— and with that Corti was in their midst;
and after him, into the lane he opened, his Berbers

411

drove pell-mell, knocking Turks from their saddles,
and overthrowing horses — and there was cutting and
thrusting, and wounds given, and souls rendered up
through darkened eyes.

The killing was all on one side; then as a bowl
splinters under a stroke, the Turkish mass flew apart,
and went helter-skelter off, each man striving to take
care of himself. The Berbers spared none of the
overtaken.

Spying the man with the showy armor, the Count
made a dash to get to him, and succeeded, for to say
truth, he was not an unwilling foemari. A brief
combat took place, scarcely more than a blow, and
the Turk was disarmed and at mercy.

" Son of Isfendiar," said Corti, " the slaying these
poor people with only their harvest knives for
weapons was murder. Why should I spare your
life ? "

" I was ordered to punish them."

" By whom? "

"'My Lord the Sultan."

"Do your master no shame. I know and honor
him."

" Yesterday they slew our Moslems."

" They but defended their own. . . . You
deserve death, but I have a message for the Lord
Mahommed. Swear by the bones of the Prophet to
deliver it, and I will spare you."

' ' If you know my master, as you say, he is quick
and fierce of temper, and if I must die, the stroke
may be preferable at your hand. Give me the mes
sage first."

" Well, come with me."

The two remained together until the flight and
pursuit were ended ; then, the fire reduced to patches
VOL. ii. — 27

412

for want of stalks to feed it, the Count led the way
back to the point at which he entered the field.
Taking his lance from the guide, he passed it to the
prisoner.

"This is what I would have you do," he said.
' ' The lance is mine. Carry it to your master, the
Lord Mahommed, and say to him, Ugo, Count
Corti, salutes him, and prays him to look at the
banderole, and fix it in his memory. He will under
stand the message, and he grateful for it. Now will
you swear ? "

The banderole was a small flag of yellow silk,
with a red moon in the centre, and on the face of
the moon a white cross. Glancing at it, the son of
Isfendiar replied:

" Take off the cross, and you show me a miniature
standard of the Silihdars, my Lord's guard of the
Palace." Then looking the Count full in the face, he
added : ' ' Under other conditions I should salute you
Mirza, Emir of the Hajj."

"I have given you my name and title. Answer."

" I will deliver the lance and message to my Lord
—I swear it by the bones of the Prophet."

Scarcely had the Turk disappeared in the direc
tion of Hissar, when a crowd of peasants, men and
women, were seen coming timorously from the di
rection of the village. The Count rode to meet
them, and as they were provided with all manner of
litters, by his direction the dead Greeks were col
lected, and soon, with piteous lamentations, a funeral
cortege was on the road moving slowly to Constan
tinople.

Anticipating a speedy reappearance of the Turks,
hostilities being now unavoidable, Count Corti de
spatched messengers everywhere along the Bos-

113

phorus, warning the farmers and villagers to let
their fields go, and seek refuge in the city. So it came
about that the escort of the murdered peasants mo
mentarily increased until at the bridge over the Sweet
Waters of Europe it became a column composed for
the most part of women, children, and old men. Many
of the women carried babies. The old men staggered
under such goods as they could lay their hands on in
haste. The able-bodied straggled far in the rear with
herds of goats, sheep, and cattle; the air above the
road rang with cries and prayers, and the road itself
was sprinkled with tears. In a word, the movement
was a flight.

Corti, with his Berbers, lingered in the vicinity
of the field of fight watchful of the enemy. In
the evening, having forwarded a messenger to the
Emperor, he took stand at the bridge; and well
enough, for about dusk a horde of Turkish militia
swept down from the heights in search of plun
der and belated victims. At the first bite of his
sword, they took to their heels, and were not again
seen.

By midnight the settlements and farmhouses of
the up-country were abandoned; almost the entire
district from Galata to Fanar on the Black Sea was
reduced to ashes. The Greek Emperor had no longer
a frontier or a province — all that remained to him
was his capital.

Many of the fugitives, under quickening of the
demonstration at the bridge, threw their burdens
away ; so the greater part of them at an early hour
after nightfall appeared at the Adrianople gate ob
jects of harrowing appeal, empty-handed, broken
down, miserable.

Constantine had the funeral escort met at the gate

414

by torch-bearers, and the sextons of the Blacherne
Chapel. Intelligence of the massacre, and that the
corpses of the harvesters would be conveyed to the
Hippodrome for public exposure, having been pro
claimed generally through the city, a vast multitude
was also assembled at the gate. The sensation was
prodigious.

There were twenty litters, each with a body upon
it unwashed and in bloody garments, exactly as
brought in. On the right and left of the litters the
torchmen took their places. The sextons lit their
long candles, and formed in front. Behind trudged
the worn, dust-covered, wretched fugitives; and as
they failed to realize their rescue, and that they were
at last in safety, they did not abate their lamenta
tions. When the innumerable procession passed the
gate, and commenced its laborious progress along
the narrow streets, seldom, if ever, has anything of
the kind more pathetic and funereally impressive
been witnessed.

Let be said what may, after all nothing shall stir
the human heart like the faces of fellowmen done
to death by a common enemy. There was no mis-
judgment of the power of the appeal in this instance.
It is no exaggeration to say Byzantium was out as
sisting — so did the people throng the thoroughfares,
block the street intersections, and look down from
the windows and balconies. Afar they heard the
chanting of the sextons, monotonous, yet solemnly
effective; afar they saw the swaying candles and
torches ; and an awful silence signalized the ap
proach of the pageant ; but when it was up, and the
bodies were borne past, especially when the ghastly
countenances of the sufferers were under eye plainly
visible in the red torchlight, the outburst of grief and

415

rage in every form, groans, curses, prayers, was ter
rible, and the amazing voice, such by unity of utter
ance, went with the dead, and followed after them
until at last the Hippodrome was reached. There
the Emperor, on horseback, and with his court and
guards, was waiting, and his presence lent nation
ality to the mournful spectacle.

Conducting the bearers of the litters to the middle
of the oblong area, he bade them lay their burdens
down, and summoned the city to the view.

" Let there be no haste," he said; " for, in want of
their souls, the bruised bodies of our poor countrymen
shall lie here all to-morrow, every gaping wound cry
ing for vengeance. Then on the next day it will be for
us to say what we will do — fight, fly, or surrender."

Through the remainder of the night the work of
closing the gates and making them secure continued
without cessation. The guards were strengthened
at each of them, and 110 one permitted to pass out.
Singular to say, a number of eunuchs belonging to
the Sultan were caught and held. Some of the en
raged Greeks insisted on their death ; but the good
heart of the Emperor prevailed, and the prisoners
were escorted to their master. The embassy which
went with them announced the closing of the gates.

"Since neither oaths, nor treaty, nor submission
can secure peace, pursue your impious warfare" —
thus Constantine despatched to Mahommed. "My
trust is in God ; if it shall please him to mollify your
heart, I shall rejoice in the change ; if he delivers the
city in your hands, I submit without a murmur to
his holy will. But until he shall pronounce between
us, it is my duty to live and die in defence of my
people."*

* Gibbon.

416

Mahommed answered with a formal declaration of
war.

It remains to say that the bodies of the harvesters
were viewed as promised. They lay in a row near
the Twisted Serpent, and the people passed them
tearfully; in the night they were taken away and
buried.

Sadder still, the result did not answer the Emperor's
hope. The feeling, mixed of sorrow and rage, was
loudly manifested ; but it was succeeded by fear, and
when the organization of companies was attempted,
the exodus was shameful. Thousands fled, leaving
about one hundred thousand behind, not to fight,
but firm in the faith that Heaven would take care of
the city.

After weeks of effort, five thousand Greeks took
the arms offered them, and were enrolled.

CHAPTER IV

EUROPE ANSWERS THE CRY FOR HELP

A MAN in love, though the hero of many battles,
shall be afraid in the presence of his beloved, and it
shall be easier for him to challenge an enemy than
to ask her love in return.

Count Corti's eagerness to face the lion in the gal
lery of the Cynegion had established his reputation
in Constantinople for courage ; his recent defence of
the harvesters raised it yet higher; now his name
was on every tongue.

His habit of going about in armor had in the first
days of his coming subjected him to criticism; for
the eyes before which he passed belonged for the
most part to a generation more given to prospecting
for bezants in fields of peace than the pursuit of
glory in the ruggeder fields of war. But the custom
was now accepted, and at sight of him, mounted and
in glistening armor, even the critics smiled, and
showered his head with silent good wishes, or if they
spoke it was to say to each other: "Oh, that the
Blessed Mother would send us more like him ! " And
the Count knew he had the general favor. We
somehow learn such things without their being
told us.

Up in the empyrean courtly circles his relations
were quite as gratifying. The Emperor made no con-

418

cealment of his partiality, and again insisted on
bringing- him to Blacherne.

" Your Majesty," the Count said one day, "I have
no further need of my galley and its crew. I beg
you to do with them as you think best."

Constantine received the offer gratefully.

"The galley is a godsend. I will order payment
for it. Duke Notaras, the Grand Admiral, will agree
with you about the price."

"If Your Majesty will permit me to have my
way, " the Count rejoined, ' ' you will order the ves
sel into the harbor with the fleet, and if the result
of the war is with Your Majesty, the Grand Ad
miral can arrange for the payment ; if otherwise "
— he smiled at the alternative — "! think neither
Your Majesty nor myself will have occasion for a
ship."

The galley was transferred from the Bay of Julian
to anchorage in the Golden Horn. That night,
speaking of the tender, the Emperor said to Phranza:
' ' Count Corti has cast his lot with us. As I inter
pret him, he does not mean to survive our defeat.
See that he be charged to select a bodyguard to ac
company me in action."

" Is he to be Captain of the guard ? "

"Yes."

The duty brought the Count to Blacherne. In a
few days he had fifty men, including his nine Ber
bers.

These circumstances made him happy. He found
peace of mind also in his release from Mahommed.
Not an hour of the day passed without his silently
thanking the Sultan for his magnanimity.

But no matter for rejoicing came to him like the
privilege of freely attending the Princess Irene.

419

Not only was her reception-room open to him;
whether she went to Blacherne or Sancta Sophia, he
appeared in her train. Often when the hour of
prayer arrived, she invited him as one of her house
hold to accompany her to the apartment she had set
apart for chapel exercises; and at such times he
strove to be devout, but in taking her for his pattern
of conduct — as yet he hardly knew when to arise or
kneel, or cross himself — if his thoughts wandered
from the Madonna and Child to her, if sometimes he
fell to making comparisons in which the Madonna
suffered as lacking beauty — nay, if not infrequently
he caught himself worshipping the living woman at
the foot of the altar rather than the divinity above
it, few there were who would have been in haste to
condemn him even in that day. There is nothing
modern in the world's love of a lover.

By the treaty with Mahommed he was free to tell
the Princess of his passion ; and there were moments
in which it seemed he must cast himself at her feet
and speak ; but then he would be seized with a trem
bling, his tongue would unaccountably refuse its
office, and he would quiet himself with the weak
ling's plea — another time — to-morrow, to-morrow.
And always upon the passing of the opportunity, the
impulse being laid with s<3 many of its predecessors
in the graveyard of broken resolutions — every swain
afraid keeps such a graveyard — always he sallied
from her door eager for an enemy on whom to
vent his vexation. "Ah," he would say, with pro
longed emphasis upon the exclamation — "if Ma
hommed were only at the gate ! Is he never com
ing ? "

One day he dismounted at the Princess' door, and
was ushered into the reception-room by Lysander.

420

u I bring you good news," he said, in course of the
conversation.

" What now ? " she asked.

"Every sword counts. I am just from the Port
of Blacherne, whither I accompanied the Grand
Equerry to assist in receiving one John Grant, who
has arrived with a following of Free Lances, mostly
my own countrymen."

"Who is John Grant?"

" A German old in Eastern service; more particu
larly an expert in making and throwing hollow iron
balls filled with inflammable liquid. On striking,
the balls burst, after which the fire is unquenchable
with water. "

' ' Oh ! our Greek fire rediscovered ! "

" So he declares. His Majesty has ordered him the
materials he asks, and that he go to work to-morrow
getting a store of his missiles ready. The man de
clares also, if His Holiness would only proclaim a
crusade against the Turks, Constantinople has not
space on her walls to hold the volunteers who would
hasten to her defence. He says Genoa, Venice, all
Italy, is aroused and waiting."

" John Grant is welcome," the Princess returned;
"the more so that His Holiness is slow."

Afterward, about the first of December, the Count
again dismounted at her door with news.

' ' What is it now ? " she inquired.

"Noble Princess, His Holiness has been heard
from."

"At last?"

"A Legate will arrive to-morrow."

" Only a Legate ! What is his name ? "

" Isidore, Grand Metropolitan of Russia."

" Brings he a following ? "

421

"No soldiers; only a suite of priests high and

low."

"I see. He comes to negotiate. Aias

"Why alas?"

"Oh the factions, the factions!" she exclaimed,
disconsolately; then, seeing the Count still in won
der she added: " Know you not that Isidore, famil
iarly called the Cardinal, was appointed Metropolitan
of the Russian Greek Church by the Pope, and,
rejected by it, was driven to refuge in Poland?
What welcome can we suppose he will receive

here ? "

" Is he not a Greek ?"

"Yes truly; but being a Latin Churchman, the
Brotherhoods hold him an apostate. His first de
mand will be to celebrate mass in Sancta Sophia.
If the world were about shaking itself to pieces, the
commotion would be but little greater than the
breaking of things we will then hear. Oh, it is an
ill wind which blows him to our gates ! '

Meantime the Hippodrome had been converted
into a Campus Martius, where at all hours of the
day the newly enlisted men were being drilled m
the arms to which they were assigned; now as arch
ers now as slingers; now with balistas and cata
pults and arquebuses; now to the small artillery
especially constructed for service on the walls. And
as trade was at an end in the city, as in fact martial
preparation occupied attention to the exclusion of
business in the commercial sense, the ancient site
was a centre of resort. Thither the Count hastened
to work off the disheartenment into which the com
ments of the Princess had thrown him.

That same week, however, he and the loyal popu
lation of Constantinople in general, were cheered by

422

a coming- of real importance. Early one morning
some vessels of war hove in sight down the Mar^
mora. Their flags proclaimed them Christian. Si
multaneously the lookouts at Point Demetrius re
ported a number of Turkish galleys plying to and
fro up the Bosphorus. It was concluded that a
naval battle was imminent. The walls in the vicin
ity of the Point were speedily crowded with spec
tators. In fact, the anxiety was great enough to draw
the Emperor from his High Residence. Not doubt
ing the galleys were bringing him stores, possibly
reinforcements, he directed his small fleet in the
Golden Horn to be ready to go to their assistance.
His conjecture was right; yet more happily the
Turks made no attempt upon them. Turning into
the harbor, the strangers ran up the flags of Venice
and Genoa, and never did they appear so beautiful,
seen by Byzantines— never were they more welcome.
The decks were crowded with helmed men who re
sponded vigorously to the cheering with which they
were saluted.

Constantine in person received the newcomers at
the Port of Blacherne. From the wall over the gate
the Princess Irene, with an escort of noble ladies,
witnessed the landing.

A knight of excellent presence stepped from a
boat, and announced himself.

" I am John Justiniani of Genoa," he said, " come
with two thousand companions in arms to the succor
of the most Christian Emperor Constantine. Guide
me to him, I pray."

' ' The Emperor is here— I am he. "

Justiniani kissed the hand extended to him, and
returned with fervor :

" Christ and the Mother be praised ! Much have I

423

been disquieted lest we should be too late. Your
Majesty, command me."

"Duke Notaras," said the Emperor, "assist this
noble gentleman and his companions. When they
are disembarked, conduct them to me. For the pres
ent I will lodge them in my residence." Then he
addressed the Genoese : ' ' Duke Notaras, High Ad
miral of the Empire, will answer your every demand.
In God's name, and for the imperilled religion of
our Redeeming Lord, I bid you welcome."

It seemed the waving of scarfs and white hands on
the wall, and the noisy salutations of the people pres
ent, were not agreeable to the Duke; although coldly
polite, he impressed Justiniani as an ill second to the
stately but courteous Emperor.

At night there was an audience in the Very High
Residence, and Justiniani assisted Phranza in the
presentation of his companions ; and though the ban
quet which shortly succeeded the audience may not,
in the courses served or in its table splendors, have
vied with those Alexis resorted to for the dazzlement
of the chiefs of the first crusade, it was not entirely
wanting in such particulars; for it has often hap
pened, if the chronicles may be trusted, that the
expiring light of great countries has lingered longest
in their festive halls, just as old families have been
known to nurture their pride in sparkling heir
looms, all else having been swept away. The failings
on this occasion, if any there were, Constantino
more than amended by his engaging demeanor.
Soldier not less than Emperor, he knew to win the
sympathy and devotion of soldiers. Of his foreign
guests that evening many afterwards died hardly
distinguishing between him and the Holy Cause
which led them to their fate.

424

The table was long1, and without head or foot. On
one side, in the middle, the Emperor presided ; oppo
site him sat the Princess Irene; and on their right
and left, in gallant interspersion, other ladies, the
wives and daughters of senators, nobles, and officials
of the court, helped charm the Western chivalry.

And of the guests, the names of a few have been
preserved by history, together with the commands
to which they were assigned in the siege.

There was Andrew Dinia, under Duke Notaras, a
captain of galleys.

There was the Venetian Contarino, intrusted with
the defence of the Golden Gate.

There was Maurice Cataneo, a soldier of Genoa,
commandant of the walls on the landward side be
tween the Golden Gate and the Gate Selimbria.

There were two brothers, gentlemen of Genoa,
Paul Bochiardi and Aiitomn Troilus Bochiardi, de
fendants of the Adrianople Gate.

There was Jerome Miuotte, Bayle of Venice,
charged with safe keeping the walls between the
Adrianople Gate and the Cercoporta.

There was the artillerist, German John Grant,
who, with Theodore Carystos, made sure of the Gate
Charsias.

There was Leonardo de Langasco, another Geno
ese, keeper of the Wood Gate.

There was Gabriel Travisan; with four hundred
other Venetians, he maintained the stretch of wall
on the harbor front between Point Demetrius and
the Port St. Peter.

There was Pedro Guiliani, the Spanish Consul, as
signed to the guardianship of the wall on the sea
side from Point Demetrius to the Port of Julian.

There also was stout Nicholas Gudelli; with the

425

Emperor's brother, he commanded the force in
reserve.

Now these, or the major part of them, may have
been Free Lances ; yet they did not await the motion
of Nicholas, the dilatory Pope, and were faithful,
and to-day exemplify the saying :

" That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things."

CHAPTER V

COUNT CORTI RECEIVES A FAVOR

" GRACIOUS Princess, the Italian, Count Corti, is
at the door. He prays you to hear a request from
him."

"Return, Lysander, and bring the Count."

It was early morning, with February in its last
days.

The visitor's iron shoes clanked sharply on the
marble floor of the reception room, and the absence
of everything like ornament in his equipment be
spoke preparation for immediate hard service.

" I hope the Mother is keeping you well," she said,
presenting her hand to him.

With a fervor somewhat more marked than com
mon, he kissed the white offering, and awaited her
bidding.

"My attendants are gone to the chapel, but I will
hear you — or will you lend us your presence at the
service, and have the audience afterwards ? "

' ' I am in armor, and my steed is at the door, and
my men biding at the Adrianople Gate ; wherefore,
fair Princess, if it be your pleasure, I will present
my petition iiow.:;

In grave mistrust, she returned :

"God help us, Count! I doubt you have some
thing ill to relate. Since the good Gregory fled into

427

exile to escape his persecutors, but more especially
since Cardinal Isidore attempted Latin mass in Sancta
Sophia, and the madman Gennadius so frightened the
people with his senseless anathemas,* I have been
beset with forebodings until I startle at my own
thoughts. It were gentle, did you go to your request
at once."

She permitted him to lead her to an armless chair,
and, standing before her, he spoke with decision :

"Princess Irene, now that you have resolved finally
to remain in the city, and abide the issue of the siege,
rightly judging it an affair determinable by God, it
is but saying the truth as I see it, that no one is more
interested in what betides us from day to day than

* The scene here alluded to by the Princess Irene is doubtless the one
BO vividly described by Gibbon as having taken place in Sancta Sophia,
the 12th of December, 1452, being the mass celebrated by Cardinal Isidore
in an attempt to reconcile the Latin and Greek factions.

Enumerating the consequences of the same futile effort at compromise,
Von Hammer says : " Instead of uniting for the common defence, the
Greeks and Latins fled, leaving the churches empty ; the priests refused
the sacrament to the dying who were not of their faith ; the monks and
nuns repudiated confessors who acknowledged the henoticon (decree or
daining the reunion of the two churches) ; a spirit of frenzy took posses
sion of the convents ; one religieme, to the great scandal of all the faith
ful, adopted the faith and costume of the Mussulmans, eating meat and
adoring the Prophet. Thus Lent passed." (Vol. II., p. 397.)

To the same effect we read in the Universal History of the Catholic
Church (Vol. XXII., p. 103) : "The religious who affected to surpass
others in sanctity of life and purity of faith, following the advice of Gen-
iiadius and their spiritual advisers, as well as that of the preachers and
laity of their party, condemned the decree of union, and anathematized
those who approved or might approve it. The common people, sallying
from the monasteries, betook themselves to the taverns ; there flourishing
glasses of wine, they reviled all who had consented to the union, and
drinking in honor of an image of the Mother of God, prayed her to pro
tect and defend the city against Mahomet, as she had formerly defended
it against Chosroes and the Kagan. We will have nothing to do with
assistance from the Latins or a union with them. Far from us be the
worship of the azymites"
VOL. ii. — 38

428

you; for if Heaven frowns upon our efforts at de
fence, and there comes an assault, and we are taken,
the Conqueror, by a cruel law of war, has at disposal
the property both public and private he gains, and
every living- thing as well. We who fight may die
the death he pleases ; you— alas, most noble and vir
tuous lady, my tongue refuses the words that rise to
it for utterance ! "

The rose tints in her cheeks faded, yet she answered :
" I know what you would say, and confess it has ap
palled me. Sometimes it tempts me to fly while yet
I can ; then I remember I am a Palaeologus. I re
member also my kinsman the Emperor is to be sus
tained in the trial confronting him. I remember
too the other women, high and low, who will stay
and share the fortunes of their fighting husbands and
brothers. If I have less at stake than they, Count
Corti, the demands of honor are more rigorous upon
me."

The count's eyes glowed with admiration, but next
moment the light in them went out.

"Noble lady," he began, "I hope it will not be
judged too great a familiarity to say I have some
days been troubled on your account. I have feared
you might be too confident of our ability to beat the
enemy. It seems my duty to warn you of the real
outlook that you may permit us to provide for your
safety while opportunities favor."

" For my flight, Count Corti ? "

"Nay, Princess Irene, your retirement from the
city."

She smiled at the distinction he made, but replied:

" I wrill hear you, Count."

"It is for you to consider, 0 Princess — if reports
of the Sultan's preparation are true — this assault in

420

one feature at least will be unparalleled. The great
guns for which he has been delaying are said to be
larger than ever before used against walls. They
may destroy our defences at once; they may com
mand all the space within those defences ; they may
search every hiding-place; the uncertainties they
bring with them are not to be disregarded by the
bravest soldier, much less the unresisting classes.
. . . In the next place, I think it warrantable
from the mass of rumors which has filled the montli
to believe the city will be assailed by a force much
greater than was ever drawn together under her
walls. Suffer me to refer to them, O Princess. . . .
The Sultan is yet at Adrianople assembling his army.
Large bodies of footmen are crossing the Hellespont
at Gallipolis and the JBosphorus at Hissar; in the
region of Adrianople the country is covered with
hordes of horsemen speaking all known tongues and
armed with every known weapon — Cossacks from
the north, Arabs from the south, Koords.and Tartars
from the east, Roumanians and Slavs from beyond
the Balkans. The roads from the northwest are
lined with trains bringing supplies and siege-machin
ery. The cities along the shores of the Black Sea
have yielded to Mahommed ; those which defied him
are in ruins. An army is devastating Morea. The
brother whom His Majesty the Emperor installed
ruler there is dead or a wanderer, no man can say in
what parts. Assistance cannot be expected from him.
Above us, far as the sea, the bays are crowded with
ships of all classes; four hundred hostile sail have
been counted from the hill-tops. And now that there
is no longer a hope of further aid from the Christians
of Europe, the effect of the news upon our garrison
is dispiriting. Our garrison! Alas, Princess, with

430

the foreigners come to our aid, it is not sufficient to
man the walls on the landward side alone."

"The picture is gloomy, Count, but if you have
drawn it to shake my purpose, it is not enough. I
have put myself in the hands of the Blessed Mother.
I shall stay, and be done with as God orders."

Again the Count's face glowed with admiration.

" I thought as much, 0 Princess," he said warm
ly; " ye^ it seemed to me a duty to advise you of the
odds against us ; and now, the duty done, I pray you
hear me as graciously upon another matter. . . .
Last night, seeing the need of information of the
enemy, I besought His Majesty to allow me to ride
toward Adrianople. He consented, and I set out
immediately; but before going, before bidding you
adieu, noble Princess and dea/- lady, I have a prayer
to offer you. "

He hesitated: then plucking courage from the em
barrassment of silence, went on :

"Dear lady, your resolution to stay and face the
dangers of the siege and assault fills me with alarm
for your safety."

He cast himself upon his knees, and stretched his
hands to her.

' ' Give me permission to protect you . I devote my
sword to you, and the skill of my hands— my life,
my soul. Let me be your knight."

She arose, but he continued :

"Some day, deeds done for your country and
religion may give me courage to speak more boldly
of what I feel and hope ; but now I dare go no fur
ther than ask what you have just heard. Let me be
your protector and knight through the perils of the
siege at least."

The Princess was pleased with the turn his speech

431

had taken. She thought rapidly. A knight in
battle, foremost in the press, her name a conquering
cry on his lips were but the constituents of a right
womanly ambition. She answered:

" Count Corti, I accept thy offer."

Taking the hand she extended, he kissed it rever
ently, and said:

" I am happy above other men. Now, 0 Princess,
give me a favor — a glove, a scarf — something I may
wear, to prove me thy knight."

She took from her neck a net of knitted silk, pink
ish in hue, and large enough for a kerchief or waist
sash.

" If I go about this gift," she said, her face deeply
suffused, "in a way to provoke a smile hereafter ; if
in placing it around thy neck with my own hands "
— with the words, she bent over him, and dropped
the net outside the hood so the ends hung loosely
down his breast — " I overstep any rule of modesty, I
pray you will not misunderstand me. I am think
ing of my country, my kinsman, of religion and
God, and the service even unto noble deeds thou
mayst do them. Eise, Count Corti. In the ride
before thee now, in the perils to come, thou shalt
have my prayers."

The Count arose, but afraid to trust himself in fur
ther speech, he carried her hand to his lips again,
and with a simple farewell, hurried out, and mount
ing his horse rode at speed for the Adrianople
Gate.

Four days after, he reentered the gate, bringing
a prisoner, and passing straight to the Very High
Residence, made report to the Emperor, Justiniani
and Duke Notaras in council.

' ' I have been greatly concerned for you, Count, "

483

said Constantine ; ' ' and not merely because a good
sword can be poorly spared just now."

The imperial pleasure was unfeigned.

" Your Majesty's grace is full reward for my per
formance," the Count replied, and rising from the
salutation, he began his recital.

"Stay," said the Emperor, "I will have a seat
brought that you may be at ease."

Corti declined : ' ' The Arabs have a saying, Your
Majesty — 'A nest fora setting bird, a saddle for a
warrior.' The jaunt has but rested me, and there
was barely enough danger in it. ... The Turk
is an old acquaintance. I have lived with him,
and been his guest in house and tent, and as a com
rade tempted Providence at bis side under countless
conditions, until I know his speech and usages, him
self scarcely better. My African Berbers are all
Mohammedans who have performed the Pilgrimage.
One of them is a muezzin by profession ; and if he
can but catch sight of the sun, he will never miss
the five hours of prayer. None of them requires
telling the direction to Mecca. ... I issued from
Your Majesty's great gate about the third hour, and
taking the road to Adrianople, journeyed till near
midday before meeting a human being. There were
farms and farmhouses on my right and left, and
the fields had been planted in good season ; but the
growing grain was wasted ; and when I sought the
houses to have speech with their tenants they were
forsaken. Twice we were driven off by the stench
of bodies rotting before the doors."

"Greeks?"

' ' Greeks, Your Majesty. . . . There were wild
hogs in the thickets which fled at sight of us, and
vultures devouring the corpses."

433

"Were there no other animals, no horses or
oxen ?" asked Justiniani.

" None, noble Genoese— none seen by us, and the
swine were spared, I apprehend, because their meat
is prohibited to the children of Islam. ... At
length Hadifah, whom I have raised to be a Sheik—
Your Majesty permitting— and whose eyes discover
the small things with which space is crowded as he
were a falcon making circles up near the sun— Hadi
fah saw a man in the reeds hiding ; and we pursued
the wretch, and caught him, and he too was a Greek ;
and when his fright allowed him to talk, he told us
a band of strange people, the like of whom he had
never seen, attacked his hut, burned it, carried off
his goats and she buffaloes ; and since that hour, five
weeks gone, he had been hunting for his wife and
three girl-children. God be merciful to them ! Of
the Turks he could tell nothing except that now,
everything of value gone, they too had disappeared.
I gave the poor man a measure of oaten cakes, and
left him to his misery. God be merciful to him

also!"

" Did you not advise him to come to me ? "

"Your Majesty, he was a husband and father
seeking his family; with all humility, what else is
there for him to do ? "

"I give your judgment credit, Count. There is
nothing else."

"I rode on till night, meeting nobody, friend or
f0e_on through a wide district, lately inhabited,
now a wilderness. The creatures of the Sultan had
passed through it, and there was fire in their breath.
We discovered a dried-up stream, and by sinking in
its bed obtained water for our horses. There, in a
hollow, we spent the night. . . . Next morning,

434

after an hour's ride, we met a train of carts drawn
by oxen. The groaning and creaking of the dis
traught wheels warned me of the rencounter before
the advance guard of mounted men, quite a thou
sand strong, were in view. I did not draw rein "—
"What!" cried Justiniani, astonished. "With
but a company of nine ?•'
The Count smiled.

' I crave your pardon, gallant Captain. In my
camp the night before, I prepared my Berbers for the
meeting."

"By the bones of the saints, Count Corti, thou
dost confuse me the more! With such odds against
thee, what preparations were at thy command ? "

' There was never amulet like a grain of wit in a
purse under thy cap.' Good Captain, the saying is
not worse of having proceeded from a Persian. I
told my followers we were likely at any moment to
be overtaken by a force too strong for us to fight ;
but instead of running away, we must meet them
heartily, as friends enlisted in the same cause ; and
if they asked whence we were, we must be sure of
agreement in our reply. I was to be a Turk ; they,
Egyptians from west of the Nile. We had come in
by the new fortress opposite the White Castle, and
were going to the mighty Lord Mahommed in Adri-
anople. Beyond that, I bade them be silent, leaving
the entertainment of words to me."

The Emperor and Justiniani laughed, but Notaras
asked: " If thy Berbers are Mohammedans, as thou
sayest, Count Corti, how canst thou rely on them
against Mohammedans ? "

' ' My Lord the High Admiral may not have heard
of the law by which, if one Arab kills another, the
relatives of the dead man are bound to kill him, un-

435

less there be composition . So I had merely to remind
Hadifah and hi& companions of the Turks we slew in
the field near Basch-Kegan. "

Corti continued: "After parley with the captain
of the advance guard, I was allowed to ride on;
and coming to the train, I found the carts freighted
with military engines and tools for digging trenches
and fortifying camps. There were hundreds of them,
and the drivers were a multitude. Indeed, Your
Majesty, from head to foot the caravan was miles in
reach, its flanks well guarded by groups of horsemen
at convenient intervals."

This statement excited the three counsellors.

" After passing the train," the Count was at length
permitted to resume, "my way was through bodies
of troops continuously — all irregulars. It must have
been about three o'clock in the afternoon when I
came upon the most surprising sight. Much I doubt
if ever the noble Captain Justiniani, with all his ex
perience, can recall anything like it.

' ' First there was a great company of pioneers with
tools for grading the hills and levelling the road;
then on a four-wheeled carriage two men stood beat
ing a drum; their sticks looked ]ike the enlarged
end of a galley oar. The drum responded to their
blows in rumbles like dull thunder from distant
clouds. While I sat wondering why they beat it,
there came up next sixty oxen yoked in pairs. Your
Majesty can in fancy measure the space they covered.
On' the right and left of each yoke strode drivers
with sharpened goads, and their yelling harmonized
curiously with the thunder of the drum. The strain
ing of the brutes was pitiful to behold. And while
I wondered yet more, a log of bronze was drawn
toward me big at one end as the trunk of a great

436

plane tree, and so long that thirty carts chained
together as one wagon were required to support it
laid lengthwise ; and to steady the piece on its rolling
bed, two hundred and fifty stout laborers kept pace
with it unremittingly watchful. The movement was
tedious, but at last I saw "-

"A cannon ! " exclaimed the Genoese.

" Yes, noble Captain, the gun said to be the largest
ever cast. "

" Didst thou see any of the balls ? "

''Other carts followed directly loaded with gray
limestones chiselled round ; and to my inquiry what
the stones were for, I was told they were bullets
twelve spans in circumference, and that the charge
of powder used would cast them a mile."

The inquisitors gazed at each other mutely, and
their thoughts may be gathered from the action of
the Emperor. He touched a bell 011 a table, and to
Phranza, who answered the call, he said: "Lord
Chamberlain, have two men well skilled in the con
struction of walls report to me in the morning.
There is work for them which they must set about
at once. I will furnish the money." *

"I have but little more of importance to engage
Your Majesty's attention. . . . Behind the monster
cannon, two others somewhat smaller were brought
up in the same careful manner. I counted seventeen
pieces all brass, the least of them exceeding in work
manship and power the best in the Hippodrome."

"Were there more ? " Justiniani asked.

* Before the siege by the Turks, two monks, Manuel Giagari and
Neophytus of Rhodes, were'charged with repairing the walls, but they
buried the sums intrusted to them for these works; and in the pillage of
the city seventy thousand pieces of gold thus advanced by the Emperor
were unearthed. — Vox HAMMER, Vol. II., p. 417.

437

" Many more, brave Captain, but ancient, and un
worthy mention. . . . The day was done when,
by sharp riding, I gained the rear of the train. At
sunrise on the third day, I set out in return. . . .
I have a prisoner whom this august council may
examine with profit. He will, at least, confirm my
report."

"Who is he?"

" The captain of the advance guard."

"How came you by him ? "

" Your Majesty, I induced him to ride a little way
with me, and at a convenient time gave his bridle
rein to Hadifah. In his boyhood the Sheik was
trained to leading camels, and he assures me it is
much easier to lead a horse."

The sally served to lighten the sombre character
of the Count's report, and in the midst of the merri
ment, he was dismissed. The prisoner was then
brought in, and put to question ; next day the final
preparation for the reception of Mahommed was
begun.

With a care equal to the importance of the busi
ness, Constantine divided the walls into sections,
beginning on the landward side of the Golden Gate
or Seven Towers, and ending at the Cynegion. Of
the harbor front he made one division, with the
Grand Gate of Blacherne and the Acropolis or Point
Serail for termini; from Point Serail to the Seven
Towers he stationed patrols and lookouts, thinking
the sea and rocks sufficient to discourage assault in
that quarter.

His next care was the designation of comman
dants of the several divisions. The individuals thus
honored have been already mentioned; though it
may be well to add how the Papal Legate, Cardinal

438

Isidore, doffing1 his frock and donning armor, vol
untarily accepted chief direction along the harbor
— an example of martial gallantry which ought to
have shamed the lukewarm Greeks morosely skulk
ing in their cells.

Shrewdly anticipating a concentration of effort
against the Gate St. Romain, and its two auxiliary
towers, Bagdad and St. Romain, the former on the
right hand and the latter 011 the left, he assigned
Justin iani to its defence.

Upon the walls, and in the towers numerously
garnishing them, the gallant Emperor next brought
up his guns and machines, with profuse supplies of
missiles.

Then, after flooding the immense ditch, he held a
review in the Hippodrome, whence the several de
tachments marched to their stations.

Riding with his captains, and viewing the walls,
now gay with banners and warlike tricking, Con-
stantine took heart, and told how Amurath, the
peerless warrior, had dashed his Janissaries against
them, and rued the day.

" Is this boy Mahommed greater than his father ?"
he asked.

" God knows," Isidore responded, crossing himself
breast and forehead.

And well content, the cavalcade repassed the pon
derous Gate St. Romain. All that could be done
had been done. There was nothing more but to
wait.

CHAPTER VI

MAHOMMED AT THE GATE ST. ROMAIC

IN the city April seemed to have borrowed from
the delays of Mahommed ; never month so slow in
coming. At last, however, its first day, dulled by a
sky all clouds, and with winds from the Balkans.

The inertness of the young Sultan, was not from
want of will or zeal. It took two months to drag
his guns from Adrianople; but with them the army
moved, and as it moved it took possession, or rather
covered the land. At length, he too arrived, bring
ing, as it were, the month with him ; and then he lost
no more time.

About five miles from the walls on the south or
landward side, he drew his hordes together in the like
ness of a line of battle, and at a trumpet call they
advanced in three bodies simultaneously. So a tidal
wave, far extending, broken, noisy, terrible, rises out
of the deep, and rolls upon a shore of stony cliffs.

Near ten o'clock in the forenoon of the sixth of
April the Emperor mounted the roof of the tower of
St. Romain, mentioned as at the left of the gate bear
ing the same name. There were with him Justiniani,
the Cardinal Isidore, John Grant, Phranza, Theophi-
lus Palseologus, Duke Notaras, and a number of infe
rior persons native and foreign. He had come to
see all there was to be seen of the Turks going into
position.

440

The day was spring-like, with just enough breeze
to blow the mists away.

The reader must think of the roof as an immense
platform accessible by means of a wooden stairway
in the interior of the tower, and battlemented on the
four sides, the merlons of stone in massive blocks,
and of a height to protect a tall man, the embrasures
requiring banquettes to make them serviceable. In
arrangement somewhat like a ship's battery, there
are stoutly framed arbalists and mangonels on the
platform, and behind them, with convenient spaces
between, arquebuses on tripods, cumbrous catapults,
and small cannon on high axles ready for wheeling
into position between the merlons. Near each ma
chine its munitions lie in order. Leaning against
the walls there are also spears, javelins, and long
and cross bows ; while over -the corner next the
gate floats an imperial standard, its white field em
blazoned with the immemorial Greek cross in gold.
The defenders of the tower are present ; and as they
are mostly Byzantines, their attitudes betray much
more than cold military respect, for they are receiv
ing the Emperor, whom they have been taught to
regard worshipfully.

They study him, and take not a little pride in
observing that, clad in steel cap-a-pie, he in no
wise suffers by comparison with the best of his
attendants, not excepting Justiniani, the renowned
Genoese captain. Not more to see than be seen,
the visor of his helmet is raised ; and stealing
furtive glances at his countenance, noble by na
ture, but just now more than ordinarily inspiring,
they are better and stronger for what they read
in it.

On the right and left the nearest towers obstruct

441

the view of the walls in prolongation ; but south
ward the country spreads before the party a cam-
pania rolling and fertile, dotted with trees scattered
and in thin groves, and here and there an aban
doned house. The tender green of vegetation upon
the slopes reminds those long familiar with them
that grass is already invading what were lately
gardens and cultivated fields. -Constantine makes
the survey in silence, for he knows how soon even
the grass must disappear. Just beyond the flooded
ditch at the foot of the first or outward wall is a road,
and next beyond the road a cemetery crowded with
tombs and tombstones, and brown and white mauso-
lean edifices; indeed, the chronicles run not back to
a time when that marginal space was unallotted to
the dead. From the far skyline the eyes of the
fated Emperor drop to the cemetery, and linger
there.

Presently one of his suite calls out: "Hark!
What sound is that ? "

They all give attention.

"It is thunder."

" No— thunder rolls. This is a beat."

Constantine and Justiniani remembered Count
Corti's description of the great drum hauled before
the artillery train of the Turks, and the former said
calmly :

" They are coming."

Almost as he spoke the sunlight mildly tinting
the land in the farness seemed to be troubled,
and on the tops of the remote hillocks there ap
peared to be giants rolling them up, as children
roll snow-balls— and the movement was toward the
city.

The drum ceased not its beating or coming. Jus-

442

tiniani, by virtue of his greater experience, was at
length able to say:

"Your Majesty, it is here in front of us; and as
this Gate St. Eomain marks the centre of your
defences, so that drum marks the centre of an ad
vancing line, and regulates the movement from
wing to wing."

" It must be so, Captain; for see — there to the left
— those are bodies of men."

" And now, Your Majesty, I hear trumpets."

A little later some one cried out:

"Now I hear shouting."

And another: " I see gleams of metal."

Ere long footmen and horsemen were in view,
and the Byzantines, brought to the wall by thou
sands, gazed and listened in nervous wonder; for
look where they might over the campania, they saw
the enemy closing in upon them, and heard his
shouting, and the neighing of horses, the blaring
of horns, and the palpitant beating of drums.

"By our Lady of Blacherne," said the Emperor,
after a long study of the spectacle, " it is a great mul
titude, reaching to the sea here on our left, and, from
the noise, to the Golden Horn on our right; none
the less I am disappointed. I imagined much splen
dor of harness and shields and banners, but see only
blackness and dust. I cannot make out amongst
them one Sultanic flag. Tell me, most worthy John
Grant — it being reported that thou hast great ex
perience combating with and against these hordes —
tell me if this poverty of appearance is usual with
them."

The sturdy German, in a jargon difficult to follow,
answered : ' ' These at our left are the scum of Asia.
They are here because they have nothing; their hope

443

is to better their condition, to return rich, to exchange
ragged turbans for crowns, and goatskin jackets for
robes of silk. Look, Your Majesty, the tombs in
front of us are well kept ; to-morrow if there be one
left standing, it will have been rifled. Of the lately
buried there will not be a ring on a finger or a coin
under a tongue. Oh, yes, the ghouls will look better
next week ! Only give them time to convert the
clothes they will strip from the dead into fresh tur
bans. But when the Janissaries come Your Majesty
will not be disappointed. See— their advance guard
now— there on the rising ground in front of the
gate."

There was a swell of ground to the right of the
gate rather than in front of it, and as the party looked
thither, a company of horsemen were seen riding
slowly but in excellent order, and the sheen of their
arms and armor silvered the air about them. Im
mediately other companies deployed on the right
and left of the first one ; then the thunderous drum
ceased; whereat, from the hordes out on the cam-
pania, brought to a a sudden standstill, detachments
dashed forward at full speed, and dismounting, began
digging a trench.

"Be this Sultan like or unlike his father, he is a
soldier. He means to cover his army, and at the
same time enclose us from sea to harbor. To-mor
row, my Lord, only high-flying hawks can commu
nicate with us from the outside. "

This, from Justiniani to the Emperor, was scarcely
noticed, for behind the deploying Janissaries, there
arose an outburst of music in deep volume, the com
bination of clarions and cymbals so delightful to
warriors of the East; at the same instant a yellow
flag was displayed. Then old John Grant exclaimed :
VOL. ii.— 29

444

"The colors of the Silihdars I Mahommed is not
far away. Nay, Your Majesty, look— the Sultan
himself!"

Through an interval of the guard, a man in chain
mail shooting golden sparkles, helmed, and with
spear in hand and shield at his back, trotted forth,
his steed covered with flowing cloths. Behind him
appeared a suite mixed of soldiers arid civilians, the
former in warlike panoply, the latter in robes and
enormous turbans. Down the slope the foremost
rider led as if to knock at the gate. On the tower
the cannon were loaded, and run into the em
brasures.

" Mahommed, saidst thou, John Grant ?"
"Mahommed, Your Majesty."
"Then I call him rash; but as we are not ashamed
of our gates and walls, let him have his look in
peace. . . . Hear you, men, let him look, and go
in peace."

The repetition was in restraint of the eager gun
ners.

Further remark was cut short by a trumpet
sounded at the foot of the tower. An officer peered
over the wall, and reported: "Your Majesty, a
knight just issued from the gate is riding forth. I
take him to be the Italian, Count Corti."

Constantine became a spectator of what ensued.
Ordinarily the roadway from the country was
carried over the deep moat in front of the Gate St.
Romain by a floor of stout timbers well balustraded
at the sides, and resting on brick piers. Of the bridge
nothing now remained but a few loose planks side
by side ready to be hastily snatched from their
places. To pass them afoot was a venture; yet
Count Corti, when the Emperor looked at him from

445

the height, was making- the crossing mounted, and
blowing a trumpet as he went.

' ' Is the man mad ? " asked the Emperor, in deep
concern.

"Mad? No, he is challenging the Mahounds to
single combat ; and, my lords and gentlemen, if he
be skilful as he is bold, then, by the Three Kings of
Cologne, we will see some pretty work in pattern for
the rest of us."

Thus Grant replied.

Corti made the passage safely, and in the road
beyond the moat halted, and drove the staff of his
banderole firmly in the ground. A broad opening
through the cemetery permitted him to see and be
seen by the Turks, scarcely a hundred yards away.
Standing in his stirrups, he sounded the trumpet
again — a clear call ringing with defiance.

Mahommed gave over studying the tower and
deep-sunken gate, and presently beckoned to his
suite.

" What is the device on yon pennon ? " he asked.

"A moon with a cross on its face."

" Say you so ? "

Twice the defiance was repeated, and so long the
young Sultan sat still, his countenance unusually
grave. He recognized the Count ; only he thought
of him by the dearer Oriental name, Mirza. He
knew also how much more than common ambition
there was in the blatant challenge — that it was a
reminder of the treaty between them, and, truly
interpreted, said, in effect: " Lo, my Lord! she is
well, and for fear thou judge me unworthy of her,
send thy bravest to try me." And he hesitated — an
accident might quench the high soul. Alas, then, for
the Princess Irene in the day of final assault ! Who

446

would deliver her to him ? The hordes, and the
machinery, all the mighty preparation, were, in fact,
less for conquest ^and glory than love. Sore the
test had there been one in authority to say to him :
" She is thine, Lord Mahommed; thine, so thou take
her, and leave the city."

A third time the challenge was delivered, and from
the walls a taunting cheer descended. Then the son
of Isfendiar, recognizing the banderole, and not
yet done with chafing over his former defeat,
pushed through the throng about Mahommed, and
prayed:

" O my Lord, suffer me to punish yon braggart."

Mahommed replied: "Thou hast felt his hand
already, but go — I commend thee to thy houris."

He settled in his saddle smiling. The danger was
not to the Count.

The arms, armor, weapons, and horse-furniture of
the Moslem were identical with the Italian's ; and it
being for the challenged party to determine with
what the duel should be fought, whether with axe,
sword, lance or bow, the son of Isfendiar chose the
latter, and made ready while advancing. The Count
was not slow in imitating him.

Each held his weapon— short for saddle service-
in the left hand, the arrow in place, and the shield
on the left forearm.

No sooner had they reached the open ground in
the cemetery than they commenced moving in cir
cles, careful to keep the enemy on the shield side
at a distance of probably twenty paces. The spec
tators became silent. Besides the skill which mas
ters in such affrays should possess, they were looking
for portents of the result.

Three times the foemen encircled each other with

447

shield guard so well kept that neither saw an open
ing to attack ; then the Turk discharged his arrow,
intending to lodge it in the shoulder of the other's
horse, the buckling attachments of the neck mail
being always more or less imperfect. The Count in
terposed his shield, and shouted in Osmanli : ' ' Out
on thee, son of Isfendiar! I am thy antagonist,
not my horse. Thou shalt pay for the cowardice."

He then narrowed the circle of his movement, and
spurring full speed, compelled the Turk to turn on a
pivot so reduced it was almost a halt. The exposure
while taking a second shaft from the quiver behind
the right shoulder was dangerously increased. ' ' Be
ware ! " the Count cried again, launching his arrow
through the face opening of the hood.

The son of Isfendiar might never attain his father's
Pachalik. There was not voice left him for a groan.
He reeled in his saddle, clutching the empty air,
then tumbled to the earth.

The property of the dead man, his steed, arms, and
armor, were lawful spoils; but without heeding
them, the Count retired to his banderole, and, amidst
the shouts of the Greeks on the walls and towers, re
newed the challenge. A score of chiefs beset the
Sultan for permission to engage the insolent Gabour.

To an Arab Sheik, loudest in importunity, he said :
"What has happened since yesterday to dissatisfy
thee with life ? "

The Sheik raised a lance with a flexible shaft
twenty feet in length, made of a cane peculiar to the
valley of the Jordan, and shaking it stoutly, replied:

" Allah, and the honor of my tribe ! "

Perceiving the man's reliance in his weapon, Ma-
hommed returned: "How many times didst thou
pray yesterday ? "

448

" Five times, my Lord."

"And to-day?"

"Twice."

" Go, then; but as yon champion hath not a lance
to put him on equality with thee, he will be justified
in taking to the sword."

The Sheik's steed was of the most precious strain
of El-Hejaz ; and sitting high in the saddle, a turban
of many folds on his head, a striped robe drawn
close to the waist, his face thin, coffee-colored,
hawk-nosed, and lightning-eyed, he looked a king
of the desert. Galloping down on the Christian,
he twirled the formidable lance dextrously, un
til it seemed not more than a stalk of dried papy
rus.

The Count beheld in the performance a trick of the
djerid he had often practised with Mahommed. Un
certain if the man's robe covered armor, he met him
with an arrow, and seeing it fall off harmless, tossed
the bow on his back, drew sword, and put his horse
in forward movement, caracoling right and left to
disturb the enemy's aim. Nothing could be more
graceful than this action.

Suddenly the Sheik stopped playing, and balanc
ing the lance overhead, point to the foe, rushed with
a shrill cry upon him. Corti's friends on the tower
held their breath ; even the Emperor said : " It is too
unequal. God help him ! " At the last moment,
however — the moment of the thrust — changing his
horse to the right, the Count laid himself flat upon
its side, under cover of his shield. The thrust, only
a little less quick, passed him in the air, and be
fore the Sheik could recover or shorten his weapon,
the trained foeman was within its sweep. In a
word, the Arab was at mercy. Riding with him

449

side by side, hand on his shoulder, the Count
shouted: " Yield thee!"

< ' Doo- of a Christian, never ! Do thy worst.

The sword twirled once-a flash-then it descended,
severing the lance in front of the owner's grip.
fragment fell to the earth.

" Now yield thee !"

The Sheik drew rein.

" Why dost thou not kill me ? "

"I have a message for thy master yonder, the
Lord Mahommed."

"Speak it then."

"Tell him he is in range of the cannon on tl
towers, and only the Emperors presence there
strains the gunners. There is much need for t

haste."

" Who art thou ?"

" I am an Italian knight who, though thy Lord s
enemy, hath reason to love him. Wilt thou go ?

" I will do as thou sayest."

" Alight, then. Thy horse is mine."

"For ransom ?"

TheVeik dismounted grumblingly, and was walk
ing off when the cheering of the Greeks stung hm

to the soul. ,

" A chance-0 Christian, another chance-

message ; it shall be as thy Lord may
then appoint. Bestir thyself."

The Count led the prize to the banderole, and
ing the reins over it, faced the gleaming line of Janis
saries once more, trumpet at mouth He saw the
Sheik salute Mahommed; then the attendants closed
around them.

450

" A courteous dog-, by the Prophet! " said the Sul
tan. "In what tongue did he speak ? "

"My Lord, he might have been bred under mv
own tent."

The Sultan's countenance changed.

" Was there not more of his message ? "

He was thinking of the Princess Irene

"Yes, my Lord."

"Repeat it."

" He will fight me again to*day or to-morrow, as
my Lord may appoint— and I want my horse. With
out him, El-He jaz will be a widow."

A red spot appeared on Mahommed's forehead.

Begone ! " he cried angrily. ' ' Seest thou not, O
fool, that when we take the city we will recover thy
horse ? Fight thou shalt not, for in that day I shall
have need of thee."

Thereupon he bade them open for him, and rode
slowly back up the eminence, and when he disap
peared Corti was vainly sounding his trumpet.

The two horses were led across the dismantled
bridge, and into the gate.

"Heaven hath sent me a good soldier," said the
Emperor to the Count, upon descending from the
tower.

Then Justiniani asked: "Why didst thou spare
thy last antagonist ? "

Corti answered truthfully.

"It was well done," the Genoese returned, offer
ing his hand.

"Ay," said Constantine, cordially, "well done.
But mount now, and ride with us."

"Your Majesty, a favor first. ... A man is
in the road dead. Let his body be placed on a bier,
and carried to his friends."

451

''A most Christian request! My Lord Chamber
lain, attend to it."

The cavalcade betook itself then to other parts, the
better to see the disposition of the Turks ; and every
where on the landward side it was the same — troops
in masses, and intrenchments in progress. Closing
the inspection at set of sun, the Emperor beheld the
sea and the Bosphorus in front of the Golden Horn
covered with hundreds of sails.

' ' The leaguer is perfected, " said the Genoese.

"And the issue with God," Constantine replied.
" Let us to Hagia St. Sophia,"

CHAPTER VII

THE GKEAT GUN SPEAKS

THE first sufficient gleam of light next morning
revealed to the watchmen on the towers an omi
nous spectacle. Through the night they had heard
a medley of noises peculiar to a multitude at work
with all their might ; now, just out of range of
their own guns, they beheld a continuous rampart
of fresh earth grotesquely spotted with marbles from
the cemetery.

In no previous siege of the Byzantine capital was
there reference to such a preliminary step. To the
newly enlisted, viewing for the first time an enemy
bodily present, it seemed like the world being pared
down to the smallest dimensions ; while their asso
ciate veterans, to whom they naturally turned for
comfort, admitted an appreciable respect for the
Sultan. Either he had a wise adviser, they said, or
he was himself a genius.

Noon— and still the workmen seemed inexhaust
ible—still the rampart grew in height— still the
hordes out on the campania multiplied, and the
horizon line west of the Gate St. Eomain was lost in
the increasing smoke of a vast bivouac.

Nightfall— and still the labor.

About midnight, judging by the sounds, the senti
nels fancied the enemy approached nearer the walls ;
and they were not mistaken. With the advent of the

453

second morning, here and there at intervals, ill-de
fined mounds of earth were seen so much in advance
of the intrenched line that, by a general order, a
fire of stones and darts was opened upon them ; and
straightway "bodies of bowmen and slingers rushed
forward, and returned the fire, seeking to cover the
mound builders. This was battle.

Noon again — and battle.

In the evening — battle.

The advantage of course was with the besieged.

The work on the mounds meanwhile continued,
while the campania behind the intrenchment was
alive with a creaking of wheels burdened by ma
chinery, and a shouting of ox-drivers ; and the vet
erans on the walls said the enemy was bringing up
his balistas and mangonels.

The third morning showed the mounds finished,
and crowned with mantelets, behind which, in work
ing order and well manned, every sort of engine
known in sieges from Alexander to the Crusaders
was in operation. Thenceforward, it is to be ob
served, the battle was by no means one-sided.

In this opening there was no heat or furore of
combat ; it was rather the action of novices trying
their machines, or, in modern artillery parlance,
finding the range. Many minutes often intervened
between shots, and as the preliminary object on the
part of the besiegers was to destroy the merlons
sheltering the warders, did a stone strike either wall
near the top, the crash was saluted by cheers.

Now the foreigners defending were professionals
who had graduated in all the arts of town and
castle taking. These met the successes of their an
tagonists with derision. ' ' Apprentices, " they would
say, "nothing but apprentices." . . . "See those

454

fellows by the big- springal there turning- the winch
the wrong- way!" . . . "The turbaued sons of
Satan ! Have they no eyes ? I'll give them a lesson.
Look ! " And if the bolt fell truly, there was loud
laughter on the walls.

The captains, moreover, were incessantly encour
aging the raw men under them. ' ' Two walls, and
a hundred feet of flooded ditch! There will be
merry Christmas in the next century before the
Mahounds get to us at the rate they are coming.
Shoot leisurely, men— leisurely. An infidel for every
bolt!"

Now on the outer wall, which was the lower of
the two, and naturally first to draw the enemy's fire,
and then along the inner, the Emperor went, indiffer
ent to danger or fatigue, and always with words of
cheer.

" The stones under our feet are honest," he would
say. "The Persian came thinking to batter them
down, but after many days he fled; and search as
we will, no man can lay a finger on the face of one
of them, and say, ' Here Chosroes left a scar.' So
Amurath, sometimes called Murad, this young man's
father, wasted months, and the souls of his subjects
without count ; but when lie fled not a coping block
had been disturbed in its bed. What has been will
be again. God is with us."

When the three days were spent, the Greeks under
arms began to be accustomed to the usage, and make
merry of it, like the veterans.

The fourth day about noon the Emperor, return
ing from a round of the walls, ascended the Bagdad
tower mentioned as overlooking the Gate St. Romain
on the right hand; and finding Justiniani on the
roof, he said to him :

455

"This fighting1, if it may be so called, Captain, is
without heart. But two of our people have been
killed ; not a stone is shaken. To me it seems the
Sultan is amusing us while preparing something
more serious."

"Your Majesty," the Genoese returned, soberly,
' ' now has Heaven given you the spirit of a soldier
and the eyes as well. Old John Grant told me within
an hour that the yellow flag on the rising ground
before us denotes the Sultan's quarters in the field,
and is not to be confounded with his battle flag. It
follows, I think, could we get behind the Janissaries
dismounted on the further slope of the rise, yet in
position to meet a sally, we would discover the royal
tent not unwisely pitched, if, as I surmise, this gate
is indeed his point of main attack. And besides
here are none of the old-time machines as elsewhere
along our front ; not a catapult, or bricole, or bible
— as some, with wicked facetiousness, have named a
certain invention for casting huge stones ; nor have
we yet heard the report of a cannon, or arquebus, or
bombard, although we know the enemy has them in
numbers. Wherefore, keeping in mind the circum
stance of his presence here, the omissions satisfy me
the Sultan relies on his great guns, and that, while
amusing us, as Your Majesty has said, he is mount
ing them. To-morrow, or perhaps next day, he will
open with them, and then "-

" What then ? " Constantine asked.

' ' The world will have a new lesson in war
fare."

The Emperor's countenance, visible under his
raised visor, knit hard.

" Dear, dear God ! " he said, half to himself. "If
this old Christian empire should be lost through

456

folly of mine, who will there be to forgive me if not
Thou ? "

Then, seeing the Genoese observing1 him with sur
prise, he continued :

"It is a simple tale, Captain. . . . A Dacian,
calling- himself Urban, asked audience of rne one
day, and being admitted, said he was an artificer of
cannon ; that he had plied his art in the foundries
of Germany, and from study of powder was con
vinced of the practicality of applying it to guns
of heavier calibre than any in use. He had dis
covered a composition of metals, he said, which
was his secret, and capable, when properly cast,
of an immeasurable strain. Would I furnish him
the materials, and a place, with appliances for the
work such as he would name, I might collect the
machines in my arsenal, and burn them or throw
them into the sea. I might even level my walls,
and in their stead throw up ramparts of common
earth, and by mounting his guns upon them secure
my capital against the combined powers of the
world. He refused to give me details of his pro
cesses. I asked him what reward he wanted, and he
set it so high I laughed. Thinking to sound him
further, I kept him in my service a few days ; but
becoming weary of his importunities, I dismissed
him. I next heard of him at Adrianople. The
Sultan Mahommed entertained his propositions,
built him a foundry, and tried one of his guns, with
results the fame of which is a wonder to the whole
East. It was the log of bronze Count Corti saw on
the road — now it is here — and Heaven sent it to me
first."

" Your Majesty," returned the Genoese, impressed
by the circumstance, and the evident remorse of the

457

Emperor, "Heaven does not hold us accountable for
errors of judgment. There is not a monarch in
Europe who would have accepted the man's terms,
and it remains to be seen if Mahommed, as yet but
a callow youth, has not been cheated. But look
yonder ! "

As he spoke, the Janissaries in front of the gate
mounted and rode forward, probably a hundred
yards, pursued by a riotous shouting and cracking
of whips. Presently a train of buffaloes, yoked and
tugging laboriously at something almost too heavy
for them, appeared on the swell of earth ; and there
was a driver for every yoke, and every driver
whirled a long stick with a longer lash fixed to it,
and howled lustily.

"It is the great gun," said Constantino. "They
are putting it in position."

Justiniani spoke to the men standing by the ma
chines : "Make ready bolt and stone."

The balistiers took to their wheels eagerly, and dis
charged a shower of missiles at the Janissaries and
ox-drivers.

" Too short, my men— more range."

The elevation was increased; still the bolts fell
short.

"Bring forward the guns!" shouted Justin

iani.

The guns were small bell-mouthed barrels of
hooped iron, muzzle loading, mounted on high
wheels, and each shooting half a dozen balls of lead
large as walnuts. They were carefully aimed. The
shot whistled and sang viciously.

"Higher, men!" shouted the Genoese, from a
merlon. " Give the pieces their utmost range."

The Janissaries replied with a yell.

458

The second volley also failed. Then Justiniani
descended from his perch.

" Your Majesty," he said, "to stop the planting of
the gun there is nothing for us but a sally."

"We are few, they are many," was the thought
ful reply. " One of us on the wall is worth a score
of them in the field. Their gun is an experiment.
Let them try it first."

The Genoese replied: "Your Majesty is right."

The Turks toiled on, hacking and shifting their
belabored trains, until the monster at last threatened
the city with its great black Cyclopean eye.

"The Dacian is not a bad engineer," said the
Emperor.

"See, he is planting other pieces."

Thus Justiniani ; for oxen in trains similar to the
first one came up tugging mightily, until by mid-
afternoon on each flank of the first monster three
other glistening yellow logs lay on their carriages
in a like dubious quiet, leaving no doubt that St.
Romain was to be overwhelmed, if the new agencies
answered expectations.

If there was anxiety here, over the way there was
impatience too fierce for control. Urban, the Dacian,
in super in tendency of the preparation, was naturally
disposed to be careful, so much, in his view, depended
on the right placement of the guns ; but Mahommed,
on foot, and whip in hand, was intolerant, and, not
scrupling to mix with the workmen, urged them
vehemently, now with threats, now with promises of
reward.

"Thy beasts are snails! Give me the goad," he
cried, snatching one from a driver. Then to Urban :
" Bring the powder, and a bullet, for when the sun
goes down thou shalt fire the great gun. Demur

459

not. By the sword of Solomon, there shall be 110
sleep this night in yon Gabour city, least of all in
the palace they call Blacherne."

The Dacian brought his experts together. The
powder in a bag was rammed home ; with the help
of a stout slab, a stone ball was next rolled into the
muzzle, then pushed nakedly down on the bag. Of
a truth there was need of measureless strength in
the composition of the piece. Finally the vent was
primed, and a slow-match applied, after which Urban
reported :

" The gun is ready, my Lord."

"Then watch the sun, and — Bismillah ! — at its
going down, fire. . . . Aim at the gate — this one
before us— and if thou hit it or a tower on either
hand, I will make thee a begler-bey. "

The gun-planting continued. Finally the sun
paused in cloudy splendor ready to carry the day
down with it. The Sultan, from his tent of many
annexes Bedouin fashion, walked to where Urban
and his assistants stood by the carriage of the larger
piece.

"Fire!" he said.

Urban knelt before him.

' ' Will my Lord please retire ? "

" Why should I retire ?"

" There is danger."

Mahommed smiled haughtily.

"Is the piece trained on the gafe ? "

"It is; but I pray "-

"Now if thou wilt not have me believe thee a
dog not less than an unbeliever, rise, and do my
bidding."

The Dacian, without more ado, put the loose end
of the slow-match into a pot of live coals near by,

VOL. II.— 30

460

and when it began to spit and sputter, he cast it off.
His experts fled. Only Mahommed remained with
him ; and no feat of daring1 in battle could have won
the young Padishah a name for courage comparable
to that the thousands looking on from a safe distance
now gave him.

"Will my Lord walk with me a little aside ? He
can then see the ball going."

Mahommed accepted the suggestion.

"Look now in a line with the gate, my Lord."

The match was at last spent. A flash at the vent —
a spreading white cloud — a rending of the air — the
rattle of wheels obedient to the recoil of the gun — a
sound thunder in volume, but with a crackle sharper
than any thunder — and we may almost say that,
with a new voice, and an additional terror, war
underwent a second birth.

Mahommed's ears endured a wrench, and for a
time he heard nothing ; but he was too intent follow
ing the flight of the ball to mind whether the report
of the gun died on the heights of Galata or across
the Bosphorus at Scutari. He saw the blackened
sphere pass between the towers flanking the gate,
and speed on into the city — how far, or with what
effect, he could not tell, nor did he care.

Urban fell on his knees.

"Mercy, my Lord, mercy!"

"For what? That thou didst not hit the gate?
Eise, man, and see' if the gun is safe." And when it
was so reported, he called to Kalil, the Vizier, now
come up: "Give the man a purse, and not a lean
one, for, by Allah ! he is bringing Constantinople to
me."

And despite the ringing in his ears, he went to his
tent confident and happy.

461

On the tower meantime Constantine and the
Genoese heheld the smoke leap forth and curtain the
gun, and right afterward they heard the huge ball
go tearing past them, like an invisible meteor. Their
eyes pursued the sound— where the missile fell they
could not say— they heard a crash, as if a house
midway the city had been struck— then they gazed
at each other, and crossed themselves.

"There is nothing for us now but the sally,"
said the Emperor.

"Nothing," replied Justiniani. "We must dis
able the guns."

" Let us go and arrange it."

There being 110 indication of further firing, the
two descended from the tower.

The plan of sortie agreed upon was not without
ingenuity. The gate under the palace of Blacherne
called Cercoporta was to be opened in the night.*
Count Corti, with the body-guard mounted, was to
pass out by it, and surprise the Janissaries defend
ing the battery. Simultaneously Justiniani should
sally by the Gate St. Eomain, cross the moat tem
porarily bridged for the purpose, and, with the foot
men composing the force in reserve, throw himself
upon the guns.

The scheme was faithfully attempted. The Count,
stealing out of the ancient exit in the uncertain
light preceding the dawn, gained a position un
observed, and charged the careless Turks. By this

* In the basement of the palace of Blacherne there was an underground
exit, Cercoporta or gate of the Circus ; but Isaac Comnenus had walled
it up in order to avoid the accomplishment of a prediction which an
nounced that the Emperor Frederick would enter Constantinople through
it. . But before the siege by Mahommed the exit was restored,

and it was through it the Turks passed into the city.— VON HAMMEU,
Hist, de VEminre Ottoman.

462

time it had become a general report that the net
about his neck was a favor^ of the Princess Irene,
and his battle cry confirmed it — For God and Irene !
Bursting through the half-formed opposition, he
passed to the rear of the guns, and planted his ban
derole at the door of Mahommed's tent. Had his
men held together, he might have returned with a
royal prisoner.

While attention was thus wholly given the Count,
Justiniani overthrew the guns by demolishing the
carriages. A better acquaintance with the operation
known to moderns as "spiking a piece," would have
enabled him to make the blow irreparable. The
loss of Janissaries was severe ; that of the besieged
trifling. The latter, foot and horse, returned by the
Gate St. Remain unpursued.

Mahommed, aroused by the tumult, threw on his
light armor, and rushed out in time to hear the cry
of his assailant, and pluck the banderole from its
place. At sight of the moon with the cross on its
face, his wrath was uncontrollable. The Aga in
command and all his assistants were relentlessly
impaled.

There were other sorties in course of the siege, but
never another surprise.

CHAPTER VIII

MAHOMMED TRIES HIS GUNS AGAIN

HARDLY had the bodies making- the sortie retired
within the gate when the Janissaries on the emi
nence were trebly strengthened, and the noises in
that quarter, the cracking of whips, the shouting of
ox-drivers, the hammering betokened a prodigious
activity. The besieged, under delusion that the guns
had been destroyed, could not understand the enemy.
Not until the second ensuing morning was the
mystery solved. The watchmen on the towers,
straining to pierce the early light, then beheld the
great bronze monster remounted and gaping at them
through an embrasure, and other monsters of a like
kind on either side of it, fourteen in all, similarly
mounted and defended.

The warders on the towers, in high excitement,
sent for Justin iani, and he in turn despatched a
messenger to the Emperor. Together on the Bagdad
tower the two discussed the outlook.

"Your Majesty," said the Genoese, much cha
grined, "the apostate Dacian must be master of his
art. He has restored the cannon I overthrew."

After a time Constantino replied: "I fear we have
underrated the new Sultan. Great as a father may
be, it is possible for a son to be greater."

Perceiving the Emperor w^s again repenting the

464

dismissal of Urban, the Captain held his peace until
asked: "What shall we now do ?"

"Your Majesty," he returned, " it is apparent our
sally was a failure. We slew a number of the
infidels, and put their master — may God confound
him! — to inconvenience, and nothing more. Now
he is on guard, we may not repeat our attempt.
My judgment is that we let him try his armament
upon our walls. They may withstand his utmost
effort."

The patience this required was not put to a long
test. There was a sudden clamor of trumpets, and
the Janissaries, taking to their saddles, and breaking
right and left into divisions, cleared the battery
front. Immediately a vast volume of smoke hid the
whole ground, followed by a series of explosions.
Some balls passing over the defences ploughed into
the city ; and. as definitions of force, the sounds they
made in going were awful ; yet they were the least
of the terrors. Both the towers were hit, and they
shook as if an earthquake were wrestling with them.
The air whitened with dust and fragments of crushed
stone. The men at the machines and culverins
cowered to the floor. Constantine and the Genoese
gazed at each other until the latter bethought him,
and ordered the fire returned. And it was well
done, for there is nothing which shall bring men
round from fright like action.

Then, before there could be an exchange of opin
ion between the high parties on the tower, a man in
half armor issued from the slowly rising cloud, and
walked leisurely forward. Instead of weapons, he
carried an armful of stakes, and something which
had the appearance of a heavy gavel. After a care
ful examination of the ground to the gate, he halted

465

and drove a stake, and from that point commenced
zigzagging down the slope, marking each angle.

Justiniani drew nearer the Emperor, and said, in
a low voice: " With new agencies come new meth
ods. The assault is deferred."

" Nay, Captain, our enemy must attack; otherwise
he cannot make the moat passable."

" That, Your Majesty, was the practice. Now he
will gain the ditch by a trench. r

4 'With what object?"

"Under cover of the trench, he will fill the
ditch."

Constantine viewed the operation with increased
gravity. He could see how feasible it was to dig a
covered way under fire of the guns, making the ap
proach and the bombardment simultaneous ; and he
would have replied, but that instant a mob of la
borers—so the spades and picks they bore bespoke
them — poured from the embrasure of the larger gun,
and, distributing themselves at easy working inter
vals along the staked line, began throwing up the
earth on the side next the city. Officers with whips
accompanied and stood over them.

The engineer — if we may apply the modern term-
was pt length under fire of the besieged; still he
kept on; only when he exhausted his supply of
stakes did he retire, leaving it inferrible that the
trench was to run through the opening in the cem
etery- to the bridgeway before the gate.

At noon, the laborers being well sunk in the
ground, the cannon again vomited fire and smoke,
and with thunderous reports launched their heavy
bullets at the towers. Again the ancient piles
shook from top to base. Some of the balistiers were
thrown down. The Emperor staggered under the

shock. One ball struck a few feet below a merlon
of the Bag-dad, and when the dust blew away, an
ugly crack was seen in the exposed face of the wall,
extending below the roof.

While the inspection of damages immediately
ordered is in progress, we take the liberty of trans
porting the reader elsewhere, that he may see the
effect of this amazing warfare on other parties of
interest in the tragedy.

Count Corti was with his guard at the foot of the
tower when the first discharge of artillery took place.
He heard the loud reports and the blows of the
shot which failed not their aim ; he heard also the
sound of the bullets flying on into the city, and being
of a quick imagination, shuddered to think of the
havoc they might inflict should they fall in a thickly
inhabited district. Then it came to him that the
residence of the Princess Irene must be exposed to
the danger. Like a Christian and a lover, he sought
to allay the chill he felt by signing the cross re
peatedly, and with unction, on brow and breast.
The pious performance brought no relief. His dread
increased. Finally he sent a man with a message
informing the Emperor that he was gone to see what
damage the guns had done in the city.

He had not ridden far when he was made aware of
the prevalence of an extraordinary excitement. It
seemed the entire population had been brought from
their houses by the strange thunder, and the appall
ing flight of meteoric bodies over their roofs. Men
and women were running about asking each other
what had happened. At the corners he was appealed
to:

" Oh, for Christ's sake, stop, and tell us if the world
is coming to an end ! "

467

And in pity he answered : " Do not be so afraid, good
people. It is the Turks. They are trying to scare
us by making a great noise. Go back into your
houses."

" But the bullets which passed over us. What of
them?"

"Where did they strike ? "

' ' On further. God help the sufferers ! "

One cry he heard so often it made an impression
upon him :

"The Panagia! Tell His Majesty, as he is a
Christian, to bring the Blessed Madonna from the
Chapel."

With each leap of his horse he was now nearing
the alighting places of the missiles, and naturally
the multiplying signs of terror he observed, to
gether with a growing assurance that the abode
of the Princess was in the range of danger, quick
ened his alarm for her. The white faces of the
women he met and passed without a word reminded
him the more that she was subject to the same peril,
and in thought of her he forgot to sympathize with
them.

In Byzantium one might be near a given point
yet far away ; so did the streets run up and down,
and here and there, their eccentricities in width arid
direction proving how much more accident and whim
had to do with them originally than art or science.
Knowing this, the Count was not sparing of his
horse, and as his blood heated so did his fancy. If
the fair Princess were unhurt, it was scarcely pos
sible she had escaped the universal terror. He im
agined her the object of tearful attention from her
attendants. Or perhaps they had run away, and left
her in keeping of the tender Madonna of Blacherne.

468

At last he reached a quarter where the throng of
people compelled him to slacken his gait, then halt
and dismount. It was but a few doors from the
Princess'. One house— a frame, two stories— ap
peared the object of interest.

"What has happened?" he asked, addressing a
tall man, who stood trembling and praying to a
crucifix in his hand.

"God protect us, Sir Knight! See how clear the
sky is, but a great stone — some say it was a meteor
— struck this house. There is the hole it made.
Others say it was a bullet from the Turks.— Save
us, O Son of Mary!" and he fell to kissing the
crucifix.

"Was anybody hurt ?" the Count asked, shaking
the devotee.

" Yes— two women and a child were killed.— Save
us, O Son of God ! Thou hast the power from the
Father."

The Count picked his way toward the house till he
could get no further, so was it blocked by a mass of
women on their knees, crying, praying, and in agony
of fright. There, sure enough, was a front beaten
in, exposing the wrecked interior. But who was the
young woman at the door calmly directing some men
bringing out the body of one apparently dead ? Her
back was to him, but the sunlight was tangled in her
uncovered hair, making gold of it. Her figure was
tall and slender, and there was a marvellous grace in
her action. Who was she ? The Count's heart was
prophetic. He gave the bridle rein to a man near
by, and holding his sword up, pushed through the
kneeling mass. He might have been more consider
ate in going ; but he was in haste, and never paused
until at the woman's side.

469

"God's mercy, Princess Irene! "he cried, "what
dost thou here ? Are there not men to take this
charge upon them ? "

And in his joy at finding her safe, he fell upon
his knees, and, without waiting for her to offer the
favor, took one of her hands, and carried it to his
lips.

"Nay, Count Corti, is it not for me to ask what
thou dost here ? "

Her face was solemn, and he could hardly deter
mine if the eyes she turned to him were not chiding;
yet they were full of humid violet light, and she
permitted him to keep the hand while he replied :

" The Turk is for the time having his own way.
We cannot get to him. ... I came in haste to—
to see what his guns have done— or— why should I
not say it? Princess, I galloped here fearing thou wert
in need of protection and help. I remembered that
I was thy accepted knight. "

She understood him perfectly, and, withdrawing
her hand, returned: " Rise, Count Corti, thou art in
the way of these bearing the dead."

He stood aside, and the men passed him with their
burden — a woman drenched in blood.
" Is this the last one ?" she asked them.
" We could find no other."

" Poor creature ! . . . Yet God's will be done !
Bear her to my house, and lay her with the
others." Then to the Count she said: "Come with
me."

The Princess set out after the men. Immediately
the women about raised a loud lamentation ; such as
were nearest her cried out: "Blessings on you!"
and they kissed the hem of her gown, and followed
her moaning and weeping.

470

The body was borne into the house, and to the
chapel, and all who wished went in. Before the
altar, two others were lying- lifeless on improvised
biers, an elderly woman and a half -grown girl. The
Lady in picture above the altar looked down on
them, as did the Holy Child in her arms ; and there
was much comfort to the spectators in the look.
Then, when the third victim was decently laid out,
Sergius began the service for the dead. The Count
stood by the Princess, her attendants in group a lit
tle removed from them.

In the midst of the holy ministration, a sound like
distant rolling thunder penetrated the chapel. Every
one present knew what it was by this time— knew at
least it was not thunder— and they cried out, and
clasped each other— from their knees many fell
grovelling on the floor. Sergius' voice never wav
ered. Corti would have extended his arms to give
the Princess support; but she did not so much as
change color; her hands holding a silver triptych
remained firm. The deadly bullets were in the air
and might alight on the house; yet her mind was
too steadfast, her soul too high, her faith too exalted
for alarm ; and if the Count had been prone to love
her for her graces of person, now he was prompted
to adore her for her courage.

Outside near by, there was a crash as of a flying
solid smiting another dwelling, and, without percep
tible interval, an outcry so shrill and unintermitted
it required no explanation.

The Princess was the first to speak.

"Proceed, Sergius," she said; nor might one fa
miliar with her voice have perceived any alteration
in it from the ordinary ; then to the Count again : ' ' Let
us go out; there may be others needing my care."

471

At the door Corti said: "Stay, O Princess— a
word, I pray."

She had only to look at his face to discover he was
the subject of a fierce conflict of spirit.

"Have pity on me, I conjure you. Honor and
duty call me to the gate ; the Emperor may be call
ing- me; but how can I go, leaving you in the midst
of such peril and horrors ? "

"What would you have me do ? "

" Fly to a place of safety."

"Where?"

"I will find a place; if not within these walls,
then "—

He stopped, and his eyes, bright with passion, fell
before hers ; for the idea he was about giving his
tongue would be a doubly dishonorable coinage,
since it included desertion of the beleaguered city,
and violation of his compact with Mahommed.

"And then ? " she asked.

And love got the better of honor.

"I have a ship in the harbor, O Princess Irene,
and a crew devoted to me, and I will place you on
its deck, and fly with you. Doubt not my making
the sea ; there are not Christians and Mohammedans
enough to stay me once my anchor is lifted, and my
oars out ; aaid on the sea freedom lives, and we will
follow the stars to Italy, and find a home."

Again he stopped, his face this time wrung with
sudden anguish ; then he continued :

" God forgive, and deal with me mercifully ! I am
mad! . . . And thou, O Princess— do thou for
give me also, and my words and weakness. Oh, if
not for my sake, then for that which carried me
away! Or if thou canst not forget, pity me, pity
me, and think of the wretchedness now my portion.

472

I had thy respect, if not thy love; now both are lost
— gone after my honor. Oh ! I am most miserable —
miserable! "

And wringing1 his hands, he turned his face from
her.

"Count Corti," she replied gently, " thou hast
saved thyself. Let the affair rest here. I forgive
the proposal, and shall never remind thee of it.
Love is madness. Return to duty; and for me "-
she hesitated — "I hold myself ready for the sacri
fice to which I was born. God is fashioning it; in
His own time, and in the form He chooses, He will
send it to me. ... I am not afraid, and be thou
not afraid for me. My father was a hero, and he
left me his spirit. I too have my duty born within
the hour — it is to share the danger of my kinsman's
people, to give them my presence, to comfort them
all I can. I will show thee what thou seemest not
to have credited — that a woman can be brave as any
man. I will attend the sick, the wounded, and suffer
ing. To the dying I will carry such consolation as
I possess — all of them I can reach — and the dead
shall have ministration. My goods and values have
long been held for the poor and unfortunate ; now to
the same service I consecrate myself, my house, my
chapel, and altar. . . . There is my hand in sign
of forgiveness, and that I believe thee a true knight.
I will go with thee to thy horse."

He bowed his head, and silently struggling for
composure, carried the hand to his lips.

"Let us go now," she said.

They went out together.

Another dwelling had been struck; fortunately it
was unoccupied.

In the saddle, he stayed to say: "Thy soul, O

473

Princess Irene, is angelic as thy face. Thou hast
devoted thyself to the suffering1. Am I left out ?
What word wilt thou give me ? "

"Be the true knight thou art, Count Corti, and
come to me as before."

He rode away with a revelation ; that in womanly
purity and goodness there is a power and inspira
tion beyond the claims of beauty.

The firing continued. Seven times that day the
Turks assailed the G-ate St. Romain with their guns ;
and while a few of the stones discharged new amiss
into the city, there were enough to still further
terrorize the inhabitants. By night all who could
had retreated to vaults, cellars, and such hiding-
places as were safe, and took up their abodes in
them. In the city but one woman went abroad
without fear, and she bore bread and medicines, and
dressed wounds, and assuaged sorrows, and as a
Madonna in fact divided worship with the Madonna
in the chapel up by the High Residence. Whereat
Count Corti's love grew apace, though the recollec
tion of the near fall he had kept him humble and
circumspect.

The same day, but after the second discharge of
the guns, Mahommed entered the part of his tent
which, with some freedom, may be termed his office
and reception-room, since it was furnished with seats
and a large table, the latter set upon a heavily tufted
rug, and littered over with maps and writing and
drawing materials. Notable amongst the litter was
the sword of Solomon. Near it lay a pair of steel
gauntlets elegantly gilt. One stout centre-tree, the
main support of the roof of camel's hair, appeared
gayly dressed with lances, shields, arms, and armor;
and against it, strange to say, the companion of a

474

bright red battle-flag-, leant tlie banderole Count Corti
had planted before the door the morning of the
sally. A sliding flap overhead, managed by cords
in the interior, was drawn up, admitting light and
air.

The office, it may be added, communicated by gay
portieres with four other apartments, each having
its separate centre-tree; one occupied by Kalil, the
Vizier ; one, a bed-chamber, so to speak ; one, a stable
for the imperial stud ; the fourth belonged to no less
a person than our ancient and mysterious acquaint
ance, the Prince of India.

Mahommed was in half-armor; that is, his neck,
arms, and body were in chain mail, the lightest
and most flexible of the East, exquisitely gold-
washed, and as respects fashion exactly like the suit
habitually affected by Count Corti. His nether
limbs were clad in wide trousers of yellow silk,
drawn close at the ankles. Pointed shoes of red
leather completed his equipment, unless we may in
clude a whip with heavy handle and long lash.
Could Constantiiie have seen him at the moment, he
would have recognized the engineer whose perform
ance in tracing the trench he had witnessed with
so much interest in the morning.

The Grand Chamberlain received him with the
usual prostration, and in that posture waited his
pleasure.

" Bring me water. I am thirsty."

The water was brought.

" The Prince of India now."

Presently the Prince appeared in the costume pecu
liar to him — a cap and gown of black velvet, loose
trousers, and slippers. His hair and beard were
longer than when we knew him a denizen of Con-

475

stantinople, making his figure seem more spare and
old ; otherwise he was unchanged. He too prostrated
himself; yet as he sank upon his knees, he gave the
Sultan a quick glance, intended doubtless to discover
his temper more than his purpose.

" You may retire."

This to the Chamberlain.

Upon the disappearance of the official, Mahommed
addressed the Prince, his countenance flushed, his
eyes actually sparkling.

"God is great. All things are possible to him.
Who shall say no when he says yes ? Who resist
when he bids strike ? Salute me, and rejoice with
me, O Prince. He is on my side. It was he who
spoke in the thunder of my guns. Salute me, and
rejoice. Constantinople is mine ! The towers which
have outlasted the ages, the walls which have
mocked so many conquerors— behold them tottering
to their fall ! I will make dust of them. The city '
which has been a stumbling-block to the true faith
shall be converted in a night. Of the churches I
will make mosques. Salute me and rejoice ! How
may a soul contain itself knowing God has chosen it
for such mighty things ? Rise, O Prince, and rejoice
with me ! "

He caught up the sword of Solomon, and in a kind
of ecstasy strode about flourishing it.

The Prince, arisen, replied simply: "I rejoice with
my Lord ; " and folding his arms across his breast, he
waited, knowing he had been summoned for some
thing more serious than to witness an outburst so
wild — that directly this froth would disappear, as
bubbles vanish from wine just poured. The most
absolute of men have their ways — this was one of
Mahommed's. And behind his composed counte-

VOL. II.— 31

476

nance the Jew smiled, for, as he read it, the byplay
was an acknowledgment of his influence over the
chosen of God.

And he was right. Suddenly Mahommed replaced
the sword, and standing before him, asked abruptly :
"Tell me, have the stars fixed the day when I may
assault the Gabours ? "
"They have, my Lord."
"Give it to me."

The Prince returned to his apartment, and came
back with a horoscope.

"This is their decision, my Lord."
In his character of Messenger of the Stars, the
Prince of India dispensed with every observance
implying inferiority.

Without looking at the Signs, or at the planets in
their Houses; without noticing the calculations ac
companying the chart ; glancing merely at the date
in the central place, Mahommed frowned, and said :
"The twenty -ninth of May! Fifty-three days!
By Allah and Mahomet and Christ— all in one—
if by the compound the oath will derive an extra
virtue— what is there to consume so much time ?
In three days I will have the towers lording this
gate they call St. Eomain in the ditch, and the ditch
filled. In three days, I say."

"Perhaps my Lord is too sanguine— perhaps he
does not sufficiently credit the skill and resources of
the enemy behind the gate— perhaps there is more
to do than he has admitted into his anticipations."
Mahommed darted a look at the speaker.
"Perhaps the stars have been confidential with
their messenger, and told him some of the things
wanting to be done."
"Yes, my Lord."

477

The calmness of the Prince astonished Mahommed.
"Andartthou permitted to be confidential with
me ? " he asked.

"My Lord must break up this collection of his
guns, and plant some of them against the other
gates ; say two at the Golden Gate, one at the Cali-
garia, and before the Selimbria and the Adrianoplo
two each. He will have seven left. . . . Nor
must my Lord confine his attack to the landward
side; the weakest front of the city is the harbor
front, and it must be subjected. He should carry
there at least two of his guns."

"Sword of Solomon! " cried Mahommed. "Will
the stars show me a road to possession of the
harbor ? Will they break the chain which defends
its entrance ? Will they sink or burn the enemy's
fleet ? "

"No; those are heroisms left for my Lord's en
deavor."

"Thou dost taunt me with the impossible."
The Prince smiled.

"Is my Lord less able than the Crusaders? I
know he is not too proud to be taught by them.
Once, marching upon the Holy City, they laid siege
to Nicea, and after a time discovered they could not
master it without first mastering Lake Ascanius.
Thereupon they hauled their ships three leagues
overland, and launched them in the lake."*
Mahommed became thoughtful.
"If my Lord does not distribute the guns; if he
confines his attack to St. Romain, the enemy, in the
day of assault, can meet him at the breach with his
whole garrison. More serious, if the harbor is left
to the Greeks, how can he prevent the Genoese in

* VON HAMMER, Hist, de VEmp. Ottoman.

478

Galata from succoring- them ? My Lord derives in
formation from those treacherous people in the day ;
does he know of the intercourse between the towns
by boats in the night ? If they betray one side, will
they be true to the other ? My Lord, they are Chris
tians; so are these with whom we are at war."

The Sultan sank into a seat ; and satisfied with the
impression he had made, the Prince wisely allowed
him his thoughts.

"It is enough!" said the former, rising. Then
fixing his eye on his confederate, he asked: " What
stars told thee these things, O Prince ? "

" My Lord, the firmament above is God's, and the
sun and planets there are his mercifully to our com-,
mon use. But we have each of us a firmament of
our own. In mine, Eeason is the sun, and of its
stars I mention two— Experience and Faith. By the
light of the three, I succeed ; when I refuse them,
one or all, I surrender to chance."

Mahommed caught up the sword, and played with
its ruby handle, turning it at angles to catch its
radiations; at length he said:

" Prince of India, thou hast spoken like a Prophet.
Go call Kalil and Saganos.1'

CHAPTER IX

THE MADOKNA TO THE RESCUE

WE have given the opening of the siege of Byzan
tium by Mahommed with dangerous minuteness, the
danger of course being from the critic. We have
posted the warders on their walls, and over against
them set the enemy in an intrenched line covering
the whole landward side of .the city. We have
planted Mahommed's guns, and exhibited their
power, making it a certainty that a breach in the
wall must be sooner or later accomplished. We
have shown the effect of the fire of the guns, not
only on the towers abutting the gate which was the
main object of attack, but on the non-combatants,
the women and children, in their terror seeking
safety in cellars, vaults, and accessible underground
retreats. We have carefully assembled and grouped
those of our characters who have survived to this
trying time ; and the reader is informed where they
are, the side with which their fortunes are cast, their
present relations to each other, and the conditions
which environ them. In a word, the reader knows
their several fates are upon them, and the favors we
now most earnestly pray are to be permitted to pass
the daily occurrences of the siege, and advance
quickly to the end. Even battles can become mo
notonous in narrative.

The Sultan, we remark, adopted the suggestions

480

of the Prince of India. He distributed his guns,
planting some of them in front of the several
gates of the city. To control the harbor, he, in
modern parlance, erected a battery on a hill by
Galata; then in a night, he drew a part of his fleet,
including- a number of his largest vessels, from
Besich-tasch on the Bosphorus over the heights and
hollows of Pera, a distance of about two leagues,
and dropped them in the Golden Horn. These
Coiistantine attacked. Justinian i led the enter
prise, but was repulsed. A stone bullet sunk his
ship, and he barely escaped with his life. Most of
his companions were drowned; those taken were
pitilessly hung. Mahommed next collected great
earthen jars— their like may yet be seen in the East
—and, after making them air-tight, laid a bridge
upon them out toward the single wall defending the
harbor front. At the further end of this unique
approach he placed a large gun ; and so destructive
was the bombardment thus opened that fire-ships
were sent against the bridge and battery. But the
Genoese of Galata betrayed the scheme, and it was
baffled. The prisoners captured were hanged in
view of the Greeks, and in retaliation Constantine
exposed the heads of a hundred and sixty Turks from
the wall.

On the landward side Mahommed was not less
fortunate. The zigzag trench was completed, and a
footing obtained for his men in the moat, whence
they strove to undermine the walls.

Of the lives lost during these operations no account
was taken, since the hordes were the victims. Their
bodies were left as debris in the roadway so expen
sively constructed. Day after day the towers Bag
dad and St. Romain were more and more reduced.

481

Immense sections of them tumbling into the ditch
were there utilized. Day after day the exchange of
bullets, bolts, stones, and arrows was incessant. The
shouting in many tongues, beating of drums, and
blowing of horns not seldom continued far into the

night.

The Greeks on their side bore up bravely.
John Grant plied the assailants with his inextinguish
able fire. Constantine, in seeming always cheerful,
never shirking, visited the walls ; at iiiglit^ he sec
onded Justinian! in hastening needful repairs. Fi
nally the steady drain upon the stores in magazine
began to tell. Provisions became scarce, and the
diminution of powder threatened to silence the cul-
verins and arquebuses. Then the Emperor divided
his time between the defences and Sancta Sophia—
between duty as a military commander, and prayer
as a Christian trustful in God. And it was notice
able that the services at which he assisted in the
ancient church were according to Latin rites ; whereat
the malcontents in the monasteries fell into deeper
sullenness, and refused the dying the consolation of
their presence. Gennadius assumed the authority
of the absent Patriarch, and was influential as a
prophet. The powerful Brotherhood of the St.
James', composed of able-bodied gentry and nobles
who should have been militant at the gates, regarded
the Emperor as under ban. Notaras and Justiniani
quarrelled, and the feud spread to their respective
followers.

One day, about the time the Turkish ships dropped,
as it were, from the sky into the harbor, when the
store of powder was almost exhausted, and famine
menaced the city, five galleys were reported in the
offing down the Marmora. About the same time

482

the Turkish flotilla was observed making- ready for
action. The hungry people crowded the wall from
the Seven Towers to Point Serail. The Emperor
rode thither in haste, while Mahommed betook him
self to the shore of the sea. A naval battle ensued
under the eyes of the two.* The Christian squadron
made the Golden Horn, and passed triumphantly
behind the chain defending- it. They brought sup
plies of corn and powder. The relief had the ap
pearance of a merciful Providence, and forthwith the
fighting was renewed with increased ardor. Kalil
the Vizier exhorted Mahommed to abandon the siege.

* The following is a translation of Von Hammer's spirited account of
this battle :

" The 15th of April, 1453, the Turkish fleet, of more than four hundred
sails, issued from the bay of Phidalia, and directing itself toward the
mouth of the Bosphorus on the western side, cast anchor near the two
villages to-day Besich-tasch. A few days afterward five vessels appeared
in the Marmora, one belonging to the Emperor, and four to the Genoese.
During the month of March they had been unable to issue from Scio; but
a favorable wind arising, they arrived before Constantinople, all their
sails unfurled. A division of the Turkish fleet, more than a hundred and
fifty in number, advanced to bar the passage of the Christian squadron
and guard the entrance to the harbor. The sky was clear, the sea tran
quil, the walls crowded with spectators. The Sultan himself was on the
shore to enjoy the spectacle of a combat in which the superiority of his
fleet seemed to promise him a certain victory. But the eighteen galleys
at the head of the division, manned by inexperienced soldiers, and too
low at the sides, were instantly covered with arrows, pots of Greek fire,
and a rain of stones launched by the enemy. They were twice repulsed.
The Greeks and the Genoese emulated each other in zeal. Flectanelli,
captain of the imperial galley, fought like a lion ; Cataneo, Novarro,
Balaneri, commanding the Genoese, imitated his example. The Turkish
ships could not row under the arrows with which the water was covered ;
they fouled each other, and two took fire. At this sight Mahommed
could not contain himself; as if he would arrest the victory of the
Greeks, he spurred his horse in the midst of the ships. His officers fol
lowed him trying to reach the vessels combating only a stone's throw
away. The soldiers, excited by shame or by fear, renewed the attack,
but without success, and the five vessels, favored by a rising wind, forced
a passage through the opposition, and happily entered the harbor.11

483

' ' What, retire now ? Now that the gate St. Re
main is in ruins and the ditch filled ? " the Sultan
cried in rage. "No, my bones to Eyoub, my soul
to Eblis first. Allah sent me here to conquer."

Those around attributed his firmness, some to re
ligious zeal, some to ambition; none of them sus
pected how much the compact with Count Corti had
to do with his decision.

To the lasting shame of Christian Europe, the
arrival of the five galleys, and the victory they
achieved, were all of succor and cheer permitted the
heroic Emperor.

But the unequal struggle wore on, and with each
set of sun Mahommed's hopes replumed themselves.
From much fondling and kissing the sword of Sol
omon, and swearing by it, the steel communicated
itself to his will ; while on the side of the besieged,
failures, dissensions, watching and labor, disparity in
numbers, inferiority in arms, the ravages of death,
and the neglect of Christendom, slowly but surely in
vited despair.

Weeks passed thus. April went out ; and now it is
the twenty-third of May. On the twenty-ninth — six
days off — the stars, so we have seen, will permit an
assault.

And on this day the time is verging midnight. Be
tween the sky and the beleaguered town a pall of
clouds is hanging thick. At intervals light showers
filter through the pall, and the drops fall perpendicu
larly, for there is no wind. And the earth has its
wrap of darkness, only over the seven hills of the old
capital it appears to be in double folds oppressively
close. Darkness and silence and vacancy, which do
not require permission to enter by a gate, have pos
session of the streets and houses ; except that now and

484

then a solitary figure, gliding swiftly, turns a corner,
pauses to hear, moves on again, and disappears as if
it dropped a curtain behind it. Desertion is the rule.
The hush is awful. Where are the people ?

To find each other friends go from cellar to cellar.
There are vaults and arched passages, crypts under
churches and lordly habitations, deep, damp, mouldy,
and smelling of rotten air, sheltering families. In
many districts all life is underground. Sociality, be
cause it cannot exist under such conditions save
amongst rats and reptiles, ceased some time ago. Yet
love is not dead — thanks, O Heaven, for the divine
impulse ! — it has merely taken on new modes of ex
pression ; it shows itself in tears, never in laughter ; it
has quit singing, it moans ; and what moments moth
ers are not on their knees praying, they sit crouched,
and clasping their little ones, and listen pale with
fear and want. Listening is the universal habit ; and
the start and exclamation with which in the day the
poor creatures recognize the explosive thunder of
Mahommed's guns explain the origin of the habit.

At this particular hour of the twenty-third of May
there are two notable exceptions to the statement that
darkness, silence and vacancy have possession of the
streets and houses.

By a combination of streets most favorable for the
purpose, a thoroughfare had come into use along
which traffic preferably drove its bulky commodi
ties from St. Peter's on the harbor to the Gates St.
Remain and Adrianople'; its greater distance between
terminal points being offset by advantages such as
solidity, width and gentler grades. In one of the
turns of this very crooked way there is now a murky
flush cast by flambeaux sputtering and borne in hand.
On either side one may see the fronts of houses with-

485

out tenants, and in the way itself long lines of men
tugging with united effort at some cumbrous body
behind them. There is no clamor. The labor is
heavy, and the laborers in earnest. Some of them
wear round steel caps, but the majority are civilians
with here and there a monk, the latter by the Latin
cross at his girdle an azymite. Now and then the
light flashes back from a naked torso streaming with
perspiration. One man in armor rides up and down
the lines on horseback. He too is in earnest. He
speaks low when he has occasion to stop and give a
direction, but his face seen in flashes of the light is
serious, and knit with purpose. The movement of the
lines is slow ; at times they come to a dead stand-still.
If the halt appears too long the horseman rides back
and comes presently to the black hull of a dismantled
galley on rollers. The stoppages are to shift the rollers
forward. When the shifting is done, he calls out:
"Make ready, men!" Whereupon every one in the
lines catches hold of a rope, and at his ' ' Now — for love
of Christ ! " there follows a pull with might, arid the
hull drags on.

In these later days of the siege there are two per
sons actively engaged in the defence who are more
wrought upon by the untowardness of the situation
than any or all their associates — they are the Em
peror and Count Corti.

There should be no difficulty in divining the cause
of the former's distress. It was too apparent to him
that his empire was in desperate straits; that as St.
Romain underwent its daily reduction so his remnant
of State and power declined. And beholding the dis
solution was very like being an enforced witness of
his own dying.

But Count Corti with the deepening of the danger

486

only exerted himself the more. He seemed every
where present— now on the ruins of the towers, now
in the moat, now foremost in a countermine, and daily
his recklessness increased. His feats with bow and
sword amazed his friends. He became a terror to
the enemy. He never tired. No one knew when
he slept. And as note was taken of him, the ques
tion was continually on the lip, What possesses the
man ? He is a foreigner— this is not his home— he
has 110 kindred here — what can be his motive ? And
there were who said it was Christian zeal ; others sur
mised it was soldier habit ; others again, that for some
reason he was disgusted with life ; yet others, them
selves of sordid natures, said the Emperor affected him,
and that he was striving for a great reward in promise.
As in the camps of the besiegers none knew the actual
reason of Mahommed's persistence, so here the secret
of the activity which left the Count without a peer in
performance and daring went without explanation .

A few— amongst them the Emperor— were aware
of the meaning of the red net about the Italian's
neck — it shone so frequently through the smoke and
dust of hourly conflict as to have become a subject of
general observation — yet in the common opinion he
was only the lady's knight ; and his battle cry, For
Christ and Irene— Now I did but confirm the opinion.
Time and time again, Mahommed beheld the doughty
deeds of his rival, heard his shout, saw the flash of
his blade, sometimes near, sometimes afar, but always
where the press was thickest. Strange was it that of
the two hosts he alone understood the other's inspira
tion ? He had only to look into his own heart, and
measure the force of the passion there.

The horseman we see in charge of the removal of
the galley-hulk this night of the twenty-third of May

487

is Count Corti. It is wanted at St. Remain. The
gate is a hill of stone and mortar, without form; the
moat almost level from side to side ; and Justiniani.has
decided upon a barricade behind a new ditch. He
will fill the hull with stones, and defend from its
deck; and it must be on the ground by break of

day.

Precisely as Count Corti was bringing the galley
around the turn of the thoroughfare, Constantine was
at the altar in Sancta Sophia where preparations for
mass were making; that is, the priests were changing
their vestments, and the acolytes lighting the tall
candles. The Emperor sat in his chair of state just
inside the brass railing, unattended except by his
sword-bearer. His hands were on his knees, his
head bowed low. He was acknowledging a positive
need of prayer. The ruin at the gate was palpable;
but God reigned, and might be reserving his power
for a miraculous demonstration.

The preparation was about finished when, from the
entrances of the Church opposite the nave, a shuffling
of many feet was heard. The light in that quarter
was weak, and some moments passed before the Em
peror perceived a small procession advancing, and
arose. The garbs were of orthodox Brotherhoods
which had been most bitter in their denunciation.
None of them had approached the door of the holy
house for weeks.

The imperial mind was greatly agitated by the sight.
Were the brethren recanting their unpatriotic resolu
tions ? Had Heaven at last given them an understand
ing of the peril of the city ? Had it brought to them a
realization of the consequences if it fell under the yoke
of the Turk ?— That the whole East would then be lost
to Christendom, with no date for its return ? A mira-

488

cle!— and to God the glory! And without a thought
of himself the devoted man walked to the gate of the
railing, and opening it, waited to receive the penitents.
Before him in front of the gate they knelt— in so
far they yielded to custom.

"Brethren," he said, "this high altar has not been
honored with your presence for many days. As
Basileus, I bid you welcome back, and dare urge the
welcome in God's holy name. Reason instructs me
that your return is for a purpose in some manner
connected with the unhappy condition in which our
city and empire, not to mention our religion, are
plunged. Rise, one of you, and tell me to what your
appearance at this solemn hour is due."

A brother in gray, old and stooped, arose, and re
plied :

"Your Majesty, it cannot be that you are unac
quainted with the traditions of ancient origin con
cerning Constantinople and Hagia Sophia; forgive
us, however, if we fear you are not equally well in
formed of a more recent prophecy, creditably derived,
we think, and presume to speak of its terms. ' The
infidels '—so the prediction runs — ' will enter the city;
but the instant they arrive at the column of Constan-
tine the Great, an angel will descend from Heaven,
and put a sword in the hands of a man of low estate
seated at the foot of the column, and order him to
avenge the people of God with it. Overcome by sud
den terror, the Turks will then take to flight, and
be driven, not only from the city, but to the frontier
of Persia.' * This prediction relieves us, and all who
believe in it, from fear of Mahommed and his impious
hordes, and we are grateful to Heaven for the Divine
intervention. JBut, Your Majesty, we think to be for-

* Von Hammer.

489

given, if we desire the honor of the deliverance to
be accounted to the Holy Mother who has had our
fathers in care for so many ages, and redeemed them
miraculously in instances within Your Majesty's
knowledge. Wherefore to our purpose. . . . We
have been deputed by the Brotherhoods in Con
stantinople, united in devotion to the Most Blessed
Madonna of Blacherne, to pray your permission to
take the Panagia from the Church of the Virgin of
Hodegetria, where it has been since the week of the
Passover, and intrust it to the pious women of the
city. To-morrow at noon, Your Majesty consenting,
they will assemble at the Acropolis, and with the
banner at their head, go in procession along the walls
and to every threatened gate, never doubting that at
the sight of it the Sultan and his unbaptized hordes
will be reft of breath of body or take to flight. . . .
This we pray of Your Majesty, that the Mother of
God may in these degenerate days have back the
honor and worship accorded her by the Emperors
and Greeks of former times."

The old man ceased, and again fell upon his knees,
while his associate deputies rang the space with loud
Amens.

It was well the light was dim, and the Emperor's
face in shadow ; it was well the posture of the peti
tioners helped hide him from close study ; a feeling
mixed of pity, contempt, and unutterable indignation
seized him, distorting his features, and shaking his
whole person. Recantation and repentance ! — Pledge
of loyalty ! — Offer of service at the gates and on the
shattered walls !— Heaven help him! There was no
word of apology for their errors and remissness — not
a syllable in acknowledgment of his labors and ser
vices—and he about to pray God for strength to die,

if the need were, as became the Emperor of a brave
and noble people !

An instant lie stood gazing at them— an instant of
grief, shame, mortification, indignation, all height
ened by a burning sense of personal wrong. Ay,
God help him !

" Bear with me a little," he said quietly, and pass
ing the waiting priests, went and knelt upon a step of
the altar in position to lay his head upon tfre upper
step. Minutes passed thus. The deputies supposed
him praying for the success of the morrow's display ;
he was in fact praying for self-possession to answer
them as his judgment of policy demanded.

At length he arose, and returned to them, and had
calmness to say :

' ' Arise, brethren, and go in peace. The keeper of
the Church will deliver the sacred banner to the
pious women. Only I insist upon a condition ; if any
of them are slain by the enemy, whom you and they
know to have been bred in denial of womanly virtue,
scorning their own mothers and wives, and making
merchandise of their daughters — if any of them be
slain, I say, then you shall bear witness to those who
sent you to me that I am innocent of the blood-guilt.
Arise, and go in peace."

They marched out of the Church as they had come
in, and he proceeded with the service.

Next day about ten o'clock in the morning there
was a lull in the fighting at the Gate St. Remain. It
were probably better to say the Turks for some reason
rested from their work of bringing stones, tree-
trunks, earth in hand carts, and timbers wrenched
from houses— everything, in fact, which would serve
to substantially fill the moat in that quarter. Then
upon the highest heap of what had been the tower of

491

Bagdad Count Corti appeared, a black shield on his
arm, his bow in one hand, his banderole in the other.
"Have a care, have a care !" his friends halloed.
" They are about firing the great gun."

Corti seemed not to hear, but deliberately planted
the banderole, and blowing his trumpet three times,
drew an arrow from the quiver at his back. The gun
was discharged, the bullet striking below him. When
the dust cleared away, he replied with his trumpet.
Then the Turks, keeping their distance, set up a cry.
Most of the arrows shot at him fell short. Seeing
their indisposition to accept his challenge, he took
seat upon a stone.

Not long then until a horseman rode out from the
line of Janissaries still guarding the eminence, and
advanced down the left of the zigzag galloping.

He was in chain mail glistening like gold, but wore
flowing yellow trousers, while his feet were buried in
shoe-stirrups of the royal metal. Looking over the
small round black shield on his left arm, and hold
ing a bow in the right hand, easy in the saddle,
calm, confident, the champion slackened speed when
within arrow flight, but commenced caracoling im
mediately. A prolonged hoarse cry arose behind him.
Of the Christians, the Count alone recognized the
salute of the Janissaries, still an utterance amongst
Turkish soldiers, in literal translation: The Padishah!
Live the Padishah! The warrior was Mahommed
himself !

Arising, the Count placed an arrow at the string,
and shouted, ' ' For Christ and Irene— Now ! " With
the last word, he loosed the shaft.

Catching the missile lightly on his shield, Mahommed
shouted back : ' ' Allah-il- Allah ! " and sent a shaft in
return. The exchange continued some minutes. In
VOL. ii. — 32

492

truth, the Count was not a little proud of the enemy's
performance. If there was any weakness on his part,
if his clutch of the notch at the instant of drawing the
string was a trifle light, the fault was chargeable to a
passing memory. This antagonist had been his pupil.
How often in the school field, practising with blunted
arrows, the two had joyously mimicked the encounter
they were now holding. At last a bolt, clanging
dully, dropped from the Sultan's shield, and observing
that it was black feathered, he swung from his seat to
the ground, and, shifting the horse between him and
the foe, secured the missile, and remounted.

" Allah-il- Allah ! " he cried, slowly backing the
charger out of range.

The Count repeated the challenge through his trum
pet, and sat upon the stone again; but no other an
tagonist showing himself, he at length descended from
the heap.

In his tent Mahommed examined the bolt ; and find
ing the head was of lead, he cut it open, and extracted
a scrip inscribed thus :

" To-day at noon a procession of women will appear on the
walls. You may know it by the white banner a monk v, ill
bear, with a picture of the Madonna painted on it. The Prin
cess Irend marches next after the banner.'1'1

Mahommed asked for the time. It was half after
ten o'clock. In a few minutes the door was thronged
by mounted officers, who, upon receiving a verbal
message from him, sped away fast as they could go.

Thereupon the conflict was reopened. Indeed, it
raged more fiercely than at any previous time, the
slingers and bowmen being pushed up to the outer
edge of the moat, and the machines of every kind
plied over their heads. In his ignorance of the mira-

493

cle expected of the Lady of the Banner, Mahommed
had a hope of deterring the extraordinary march.

Nevertheless at the appointed hour, ten o'clock, the
Church of the Virgin of Hodegetria was surrounded by
nuns and monks ; and presently the choir of Sancta
Sophia issued from the house, executing a solemn
chant ; the Emperor followed in Basilean vestments ;
then the Panagia appeared.

At sight of the picture of the Very Holy Virgin
painted front view, the eyes upraised, the hands in
posture of prayer, the breast covered by a portrait of
the Child, the heads encircled by the usual nimbus, the
mass knelt, uttering cries of adoration.

The Princess Irene, lightly veiled and attired in
black, advanced, and, kissing the fringed corners of
the hallowed relic, gathered the white staying ribbons
in her hands ; thereupon the monk appointed to carry
it moved after the choir, and the nuns took places.
And there were tears and sighs, but not of fear. The
Mother of God would now assume the deliverance of
her beloved capital. As it had been to the Avars, and
later to the Russians under Askold and Dir, it would
be now to Mahommed and his ferocious hordes — all
Heaven would arm to punish them. They would not
dare look at the picture twice, or if they did — well,
there are many modes of death, and it will be for
the dear Mother to choose. Thus the women argued.
Possibly a perception of the failure in the defence,
sharpened by a consciousness of the horrors in store
for them if the city fell by assault, turned them to this.
There is no relief from despair like faith.

From the little church, the devotees of the Very
Holy Virgin took their way on foot to the southeast,
chanting as they went, and as they went their num
ber grew. Whence the accessions, none inquired.

494

They first reached a flight of steps leading to the
banquette or footway along the wall near the Golden
Gate. The noise of the conflict, the shouting and roar
of an uncounted multitude of men in the heat and
fury of combat, not to more than mention the evi
dences of the conflict — arrows, bolts, and stones in
overflight and falling in remittent showers — would
have dispersed them in ordinary mood; but they
'were under protection — the Madonna was leading
them — to be afraid was to deny her saving grace.
And then there was 110 shrinking on the part of the
Princess Irene. Even as she took time and song from
the choir, they borrowed of her trust.

At the foot of the steps the singers turned aside
to allow the Panagia to go first. The moment of
miracle was come ! What form would the manifes
tation take ? Perhaps the doors and windows of
Heaven would open for a rain of fire — perhaps the
fighting angels who keep the throne of the Father
would appear with swords of lightning — perhaps the
Mother and Son would show themselves. Had they
not spared and converted the Khagan of the Avars ?
Whatever the form, it were not becoming to stand
between the Panagia and the enemy.

The holy man carrying the ensign was trustful as
the women, and he ascended the steps without falter
ing. Gathering the ribbons a little more firmly in
her hands, the Princess kept her place. Up— up they
were borne — Mother and Son. Then the white banner
was on the height— seen first by the Greeks keeping
the wall, and in the places it discovered them, they
fell upon their faces, next by the hordes. And they
—oh, a miracle, a miracle truly!— they stood still.
The bowman drawing his bow, the slinger whirling
his sling, the arquebusers taking aim matches in hand,

495

the strong men at the winches of the mangonels,
all stopped— an arresting hand fell on them— they
might have been changed to pillars of stone, so
motionlessly did they stand and look at the white
apparition. Kyrie Eleison, thrice repeated, then
Christie Eleison, also thrice repeated, descended to
them in the voices of women, shrilled by excitement.
And the banner moved along the wall, not swiftly
as if terror had to do with its passing, but slowly,
the image turned outwardly, the Princess next it,
the ribbons in her hands ; after her the choir in full
chant ; and then the long array of women in ecstasy of
faith and triumph ; for before they were all ascended,
the hordes at the edge of the moat, and those at a
distance— or rather such of them as death or wounds
would permit— were retreating to their entrenchment.
Nor that merely — the arrest which had fallen at the
Golden Gate extended along the front of leaguer ment
from the sea to Blacherne, from Blacherne to the
Acropolis.

So it happened that in advance of the display of the
picture, without waiting for the Kyrie Eleison of the
glad procession, the Turks took to their defences ; and
through the city, from cellar, and vault, and crypt,
and darkened passage, the wonderful story flew ; and
there being none to gainsay or explain it, the miracle
was accepted, and the streets actually showed signs
of a quick return to their old life. Even the very
timid took heart, and went about thanking God and
the Panagia Blachernitissa.

And here and there the monks passed, sleek and
blithe, and complacently twirling the Greek crosses
at the whip-ends of their rosaries of polished horn
buttons large as walnuts, saying :

' ' The danger is gone. See what it is to have faith !

496

Had we kept on trusting- the azy mites, whether
Roman cardinal or apostate Emperor, a muezzin would
ere long, perhaps to-morrow, be calling to prayer from
the dome of Hagia Sophia. Blessed be the Panagia !
To-night let us sleep ; and then — then we will dismiss
the mercenaries with their Latin tongues."

But there will be skeptics to the last hour of the
last day; so is the world made of kinds of men.
Constantino and Justiniani did not disarm or lay
aside their care. In unpatriotic distrust, they kept
post behind the ruins of St. Romain, and saw to it
that the labor of planting the hull of the galley for a
new wall, strengthened with another ditch of danger
ous depth and width, was continued.

And they were wise ; for about four o'clock in the
afternoon, there was a blowing of horns on the para
pet by the monster gun, and live heralds in tunics
stiff with gold embroidery, and trousers to correspond
— splendid fellows, under turbans like balloons, each
with a trumpet of shining silver — set out for the gate,
preceding a stately unarmed official.

The heralds halted now and then to execute a
nourish. Constantino, recognizing an envoy, sent
Justiniani and Count Corti to meet him beyond the
moat, and they returned with the Sultan's formal de
mand for the surrender of the city. The message was
threatening and imperious. The Emperor replied
offering to pay tribute. Mahommed rejected the pro
posal, and announced an assault.

The retirement of the hordes at sight of the Panagia
on the wall was by Mahommed's order. His wilful-
ness extended to his love — he did not intend the
Princess Irenfc should suffer harm.

CHAPTER X

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE ASSAULT

THE artillery of Mahommed had been effective,
though not to the same degree, elsewhere than at St.
Romain. Jerome the Italian and Leonardo di Lan-
gasco the Genoese, defending the port of Blacherne
in the lowland, had not been able to save the Xilo-
porta or Wood Gate on the harbor front harmless ;
under pounding of the floating battery it lay in the
dust, like a battered helmet.

Jolin Grant and Theodore de Carystos looked at the
green hills of Eyoub in front of the gate Caligaria
or Charsias, assigned to them, through fissures and
tumbles-down which made their hearts sore. The
Bochiardi brothers, Paul and Antonin, had fared no
better in their defence of the gate Adrianople. At
the gate Selimbria, Theophilus Palaeologus kept the
Imperial flag flying, but the outer faces of the towers
there were in the ditch serving the uses of the ene
my. Contarino the Venetian, on the roof of the
Golden Gate, was separated from the wall reaching
northward to Selimbria by a breach wide enough to
admit a chariot. Gabriel Trevisan, with his noble
four hundred Venetians, kept good his grip 011 the
harbor wall from the Acropolis to the gate of St.
Peter's. Through the incapacity or treason of Duke
Notaras, the upper portion of the Golden Horn was en
tirely lost to the Christians. From the Seven Towers
to Galata the Ottoman fleet held the Avail facing the

498

Marmora as a net of close meshes holds the space of
water it is to drag. In a word, the hour for assault
had arrived, and from the twenty-fourth to evening
of the twenty-eighth of May Mahommed diligently
prepared for the event.

The attack he reduced to a bombardment barely
sufficient to deter the besiegers from systematic
repairs. The reports of his guns were but occasion
ally heard. At no time, however, was the energy of
the man more conspicuous. Previously his orders to
chief officers in command along the line had been
despatched to them ; now he bade them to personal
attendance ; and, as may be fancied, the scene at his
tent was orientally picturesque from sunrise to sunset.
Such an abounding of Moslem princes and princes
not Moslem, of Pachas, and Beys, and Governors of
Castles, of Sheiks, and Captains of hordes without
titles; such a medley of costumes, and armor, and
strange ensigns ; such a forest of tall shafts flying red
horse-tails ; such a herding of caparisoned steeds;
such a company of trumpeters and heralds— had
seldom if ever been seen. It seemed the East from
the Euphrates and Red Sea to the Caspian, and
the West far as the Iron Gates of the Danube, were
there in warlike presence. Yet for the most part
these selected lions of tribes kept in separate groups
and regarded each other askance, having feuds and
jealousies amongst themselves ; and there was reason
for their good behavior — around them, under arms,
were fifteen thousand watchful Janissaries, the flower
of the Sultan's host, of whom an old chronicler has
said, Each one is a giant in stature, and the equal of
ten ordinary men.

Throughout those four days but one man had place
always at Mahommed's back, his confidant and adviser

499

— not Kalil, it is to be remarked, or Saganos, or the
Mollali Kouraiii, or Akschem-sed-din the Dervish.

"My Lord,1' the Prince of India had argued when
the Sultan resolved to summon his vassal chiefs to
personal conference, ' ' all men love splendor ; pleasing
the eye is an inducement to the intelligent ; exciting
the astonishment of the vulgar disposes them to sub
mit to superiority in another without wounding their
vanity. The- Rajahs in my country practise this phi
losophy with a thorough understanding. Having fre
quently to hold council with their officials, into the
tent or hall of ceremony they bring their utmost
riches. The lesson is open to my Lord.'1

So when his leaders of men were ushered into the
audience, the interior of Mahommed's tent was ex
travagantly furnished, and their prostrations were at
the step of a throne. Nevertheless in consenting to the
suggestion, the Sultan had insisted upon a condition.

" They shall not mistake me for something else than
a warrior — a politician or a diplomatist, for instance
— or think the heaviest blow I can deal is with the
tongue or a pen. Art thou hearing, Prince? "

"I hear, my Lord."

" So, by the tomb of the Prophet — may his name be
exalted! — my household, viziers and all, shall stand
at my left ; but here on my right I will have my horse
in panoply; and he shall bear my mace and champ
his golden bit, and be ready to tread on such of the
beggars as behave unseemly. "

And over the blue and yellow silken rugs of Khoras-
san, with which the space at the right of the throne
was spread, the horse, bitted and houseled, had free
range, an impressive reminder of the master's business
of life.

As they wrere Christians or Moslems, Mahommed

500

addressed the vassals honored "by his summons, and
admitted separately to his presence ; for the same ar
guments might not be pleasing to "both.

" I give you trust/' he would say to the Christian,
"and look for brave and loyal service from you.
. . . I shall be present with you, and as an eye
witness judge of your valor, and never had men such
incentives. The wealth of ages is in the walls before
us, and it shall be yours— money, jewels, goods and
people — all yours as you can lay hands 011 it. I reserve
only the houses and churches. Are you poor, you may
go away rich ; if rich, you may be richer ; for what you
get will be honorable earnings of your right hand of
which none shall dispossess you — and to that treaty I
swear. . . . Rise now, and put your men in readi
ness. The stars have promised me this city, and their
promises are as the breath of the God we both adore."

Very different in style and matter were his utter
ances to a Moslem.

"What is that hanging from thy belt ? "

" It is a sword, my Lord."

"God is God, and there is no other God — Amin !
And he it was who planted iron in the earth, and
showed the miner where it was hid, and taught the
armorer to give it form, and harden it, even the blade
at thy belt ; for God had need of an instrument for
the punishment of those who say 'God hath part
ners.' . . . And who are they that say 'God
hath partners— a Son and his Mother ' ? Here have
they their stronghold; and here have we been
brought to make roads through its walls, and turn
their palaces of unbelief into harems. For that thou
hast thy sword, and I mine— Amin! . . . It is
the will of God that we despoil these Gabours of
their wealth and their women; for are they not of

501

those of whom it is said : ' In their hearts is a disease,
and God hath increased their disease, and for them is
ordained a painful punishment, because they have
charged the Prophet of God with falsehood ' ? That
they who escape the sharpness of our swords shall be
as beggars, and slaves, and homeless wanderers— such
is the punishment, and it is the judgment of God—
Amin / . . . That they shall leave all they have
behind them— so also hath God willed, and I say it
shall be. I swear it. And that they leave behind
them is for us who were appointed from the beginning
of the world to take it; that also God wills, and I say-
it shall be. I swear it. Amin! . . What if
the way be perilous, as I grant it is ? Is it not writ
ten : ' A soul cannot die except by permission of God,
according to a writing of God, definite as to time' ?
And if a man die, is it not also written : ' Repute not
those slain in God's cause to be dead; nay, alive with
God, they are provided for ' ? They are people of the
' right hand,' of whom it is written: 'They shall be
brought nigh God in the gardens of delight, upon in
wrought couches reclining face to face. Youths ever
young shall go unto them round about with goblets
and ewers, and a cup of flowing wine ; and fruits of
the sort which they shall choose, and the flesh of
birds of the kind which they shall desire, and damsels
with eyes like pearls laid up, we will give them as a
reward for that which they have done.' . . . But
the appointed time is not yet for all of us— nay, it is
for the fewest— Amin / . . . And when the will
of God is done, then for such as live, lo! over the
walls yonder are gold refined and coined, and gold in
vessels, and damsels on silken couches, their cheeks
like roses of Damascus, their arms whiter and cooler
than lilies, and as pearls laid up are their eyes, and

502

their bodies sweeter than musk on the wings of the
south wind in a grove of palms. With the gold we
can make gardens of delight; and the damsels set
down in the gardens, ours the fault if the promise be
not made good as it was spoken by the Prophet —
' Paradise shall be brought near unto the pious, to a
place not distant from them, so they shall see it ! '
. . . Being of those who shall ' receive their books
in the right hand, ' more need not be said unto you. I
only reserve for myself the houses when you have
despoiled them, and the churches. Make ready your
self and your people, and tell them faithfully what I
say, and swear to. I will come to you with final
orders. Arise ! " *

From sunrise to sunset of the twenty-seventh Ma-
hommed was in the saddle going with the retinue of
a conqueror from chief to chief. From each he drew
a detachment to be held in reserve. One hundred
thousand men were thus detached.

" See to it," he said finally, "that you direct your
main effort against the gate in front of you. . . .
Put the wild men in the advance. The dead will be
useful in the ditch. . . . Have the ladders at
hand. ... At the sound of my trumpets, charge.
. . . Proclaim for me that he who is first upon the
walls shall have choice of a province. I will make
him governor. God is God. I am his servant, order
ing as he has ordered."

On the twenty-eighth, he sent all the dervishes in
camp to preach to the Moslems in arms ; and of such
effect were their promises of pillage and Paradise that
after the hour of the fifth prayer, the multitude, in
all quite two hundred and fifty thousand, abandoned

* For the quotations in this speech, see Selections from the Koran, by
EDWARD WILLIAM LANE.

503

themselves to transports of fanaticism. Of their huts
and booths they made heaps, and at night set fire to
them; and the tents of the Pachas and great officers
being illuminated, and the ships perfecting the block
ade dressed in lights, the entrenchment from Blacherne
to the Seven Towers, and the sea thence to the Acrop
olis, were in a continued brilliance reaching up to the
sky. Even the campania was invaded by the dazzle-
meiit of countless bonfires.

And from the walls the besieged, if they looked,
beheld the antics of the hordes; if they listened, they
heard the noise, in the distance, a prolonged, inarticu
late, irregular clamor of voices, near by, a confusion
of songs and cries. At times the bray of trumpets and
the roll of drums great and small shook the air, and
smothered every rival sound. And where the der
vishes came, in their passage from group to group,
the excitement arose out of bounds, while their danc
ing lent diablerie to the scene.

Assuredly there was enough in what they beheld to
sink the spirit of the besieged, even the boldest of
them. The cry Allah-il- Allah shouted from the moat
was trifling in comparison with what they might have
overheard around the bonfires.

"Why do you burn your huts ?" asked a prudent
officer of his men.

" Because we will not need them more. The city
is for us to-morrow. The Padishah has promised and
sworn."

"Did he swear it?"

" Ay, by the bones of the Three in the Tomb of the
Prophet."

At another fire, the following :

"Yes, I have chosen my palace already. It is on
the hill over there in the west."

504

And again :

' ' Tell us, O son of Mousa, when we are in the town
what will you look for ? "

" The things I most want."

"Well, what things?"

' ' May the Jinn fill thy stomach with green figs for
such a question of my mother's son ! What things ?
Two horses out of the Emperor's stable. And thou —
what wilt thou put thy hand to first ?. "

" Oh, I have not made up my mind ! I am think
ing of a load of gold for my camel — enough to take
my father and his three wives to Mecca, and buy
water for them from the Zem-zem. Praised be Allah ! "

' ' Bah ! Gold will be cheap. "

' ' Yes, as bezants ; but I have heard of a bucket the
unbelieving Greeks use at times for mixing wine and
bread in. It is when they cat the body of their God.
They say the bucket is so big it takes six fat priests to
lift it."

" It is too big. I'll gather the bezants."

"Well," said a third, with a loud Moslem oath,
' ' keep to your gold, whether in pots or coin. For me
— for me "-

"Ha, ha!— he don't know."

" Don't I ? Thou grinning son of a Hindoo ape."

"What is it, then?"

" The thing which is first in thy mind."

"Name it."

"A string of women."

" Old or young ?"

" An hoo-rey-yeh is never old."

' ' What judgment ! " sneered the other. ' ' I will take
some of the old ones as well."

"What for?"

"For slaves to wait on the young. Was it not said

505

by a wise man, ' Sweet water in the jar is not more
precious than peace in the family ' ? "

Undoubtedly the evil genius of Byzantium in this
peril was the Prince of India.

"My Lord," he had said, cynically, "of a truth a
man brave in the day can be turned into a quaking
coward at night ; you have but to present him a danger
substantial enough to quicken his imagination. These
Greeks have withstood you stoutly ; try them now with
your power a vision of darkness."
"How, Prince?"

"In view and hearing from the walls let the hordes
kindle fires to-night. Multiply the fires, if need be, and
keep the thousands in motion about them, making a
spectacle such as this generation has not seen ; then "-
The singular man stopped to laugh.
Mahommed gazed at him in silent wonder.
"Then, "he continued, "so will distorted fancy do
its work,' that by midnight the city will be on its
knees praying to the Mother of God, and every armed
man on the walls who has a wife or daughter will
think he hears himself called to for protection. Try
it, my Lord, and thou mayst whack my flesh into rib
bons if by dawn the general fear have not left but a
half task for thy sword."
It was as the Jew said.

Attracted by the illumination in the sky, suggestive
of something vast and terrible going on outside the
walls, and still full of faith in a miraculous deliver
ance, 'thousands hastened to see the mercy. What an
awakening was in store for them I Enemies .seemed
to have arisen out of the earth— devils, not men. The
world to the horizon's rim appeared oppressed with
them. Nor was it possible to misapprehend the mean
ing of what they beheld. ' ' To-morrow— to-morrow "

506

—they whispered to each other— " God keep us ! " and
pouring back into the streets, they became each a
preacher of despair. Yet — marvelous to say — the
monks sallied from their cells with words of cheer.

"Have faith," they said. " See, we are not afraid.
The Blessed Mother has not deserted her children.
Believe in her. She is resolved to allow the azymite
Emperor to exhaust his vanity that in the last hour he
and his Latin myrmidons may not deny her the merit
of the salvation. Compose yourselves, and fear not.
The angel will find the poor man at the column of
Constantine."

The ordinary soul beset with fears, and sinking into
hopelessness, is always ready to accept a promise of
rest. The people listened to the priestly soothsayers.
Nay, the too comforting assurance made its way to
the defenders at the gates, and hundreds of them de
serted their posts ; leaving the enemy to creep in from
the moat, and, with hooks on long poles, actually pull
down some of the new defences.

It scarcely requires telling how these complications
added weight to the cares with which the Emperor
was already overladen. Through the afternoon he
sat by the open window of a room above the Cerco-
porta, or sunken gate under the southern face of his
High Residence,* wratching the movements of the

* This room is still to be seen. The writer once visited it. Arriving
near, his Turkish cavass requested him to wait a moment. The man
then advanced alone and cautiously, and knocked at the door. There
was a conference, and a little delay ; after which the cavass announced it
was safe to go in. The mystery was revealed upon entering. A half
dozen steaming tubs were scattered over the paved floor, and by each of
them stood a scantily attired woman with a dirty yashmak covering her
face. The chamber which should have been very sacred if only because
there the last of the Byzantine Emperors composedly resigned himself to
the inevitable, had become a filthy den devoted to one of the most igno
ble of uses. The shame if, of course, to the Greeks of Constantinople.

507

Turks. The subtle .prophet which sometimes merci
fully goes before death had discharged its office with
him. He had dismissed his last hope. Beyond per-
adventure the hardest task to one pondering his fate
uprisen and standing before him with all its attending
circumstances, is to make peace with himself; which
is simply viewing the attractions of this life as birds
of plumage in a golden cage, and deliberately opening
the door, and letting them loose, knowing they can
never return. This the purest and noblest of the im
perial Greeks — the evil times in which his race as a
ruler was run prevent us from terming him the great
est — had done.

He was in armor, and his sword rested against the
cheek of a window. His faithful attendants came in
occasionally, and spoke to him in low tones ; but for
the most part he was alone.

The view of the enemy was fair. He could see
their intrenchment, and the tents and ruder quarters
behind it. He could see the standards, many of them
without meaning to him, the detachments on duty
and watchful, the horsemen coming and going, and
now and then a column in movement. He could hear
the shouting, and he knew the meaning of it all— the
final tempest was gathering.

About four o'clock in the afternoon, Phranza en
tered the room, and going to his master's right hand,
was in the act of prostrating himself.

" No, my Lord," said the Emperor, reaching out to
stay him, and smiling pleasantly, " let us have done
with ceremony. Thou hast been true servant to me
—I testify it, God hearing— and now I promote thee.
Be as my other self. Speak to me standing. To-mor
row is my end of days. In death no man is greater
than another. Tell me what thou bringest."
VOL. ii.— 33

508

On his knees, the Grand Chamberlain took the steel-
gloved hand nearest him, and carried it to his lips.

"Your Majesty, no servant had ever a more con
siderate arid loving master. "

An oppressive silence followed. They were both
thinking the same thought, and it was too sad for
speech.

"The duty Your Majesty charged me with this
morning " — thus Phranza upon recovery of his com
posure — "I attended to."

" And you found it ? "

" Even as Your Majesty had warning. The Hegu-
mens of the Brotherhoods "-

" All of them, O Phranza ? "

" All of them, Your Majesty— assembled in a clois
ter of the Pantocrator. "

" Gennadius again ! "

The Emperor's hands closed, and there was an im
patient twitching of his lips.

' ' Though why should I be astonished ? Hark, my
friend! I will tell thee what I have as yet spoken
to no man else. Thou knowest Kalil the Vizier has
been these many years my tributary, and that he hath
done me many kindly acts, not always in his master's
interest. The night of the day our Christian ships
beat the Turks the Grand Vizier sent me an account
of a stormy scene in Mahommed's tent, and advised
me to beware of Gennadius. Ah, I had fancied my
self prepared to drink the cup Heaven hath in store
for me, lees and all, without a murmur, but men will
be men until their second birth. It is nature ! . . .
Oh, my Phranza, what thinkest thou the false monk
is carrying under his hood ? "

" Some egg of treason, I doubt not."

" Having driven His Serenity, the pious and ven-

509

erable Gregory, into exile, he aspires to succeed
him."

' ' The hypocrite ! — the impostor ! — the perjured !
-—He, Patriarch ! " cried Phranza, with upraised eyes.

' ' And from whose hands thinkest thou he dreams
of deriving the honor ? "

" Not Your Majesty's."

The Emperor smiled faintly. " No— he regards
Mahommed the Sultan a better patron, if not a better
Christian."

" Forbid it Heaven! " and Phranza crossed himself
repeatedly.

"Nay, good friend, hear his scheme, then thou
mayst call the forbidding powers with undeniable
reason. ... He undertook— so Kalil privily de
clared — if Mahommed would invest him with the
Patriarchate, to deliver Constantinople to him."

" By what means? He has no gate in keeping —
he is not even a soldier."

"My poor Phranza! Hast thou yet to learn that
perfidy is not a trait of any class ? This gowned
traitor hath a key to all the gates. Hear him— I will
ply the superstition of the Greeks, and draw them
from the walls with a prophecy."

Phranza was able to cry out : " Oh ! that so brave a
prince, so good a master should be at the mercy of —
of such a " —

" With all thy learning, I see thou lackest a word.
Let it pass, let it pass — I understand thee. . . .
But what further hast thou from the meeting ? "

Phranza caught the hand again, and laid his
forehead upon it while he replied: "To-night the
Brotherhoods are to go out, and renew the story of
the angel, and the man at the foot of the column
of Constantine. "

510

The calmness of the Emperor was wonderful. He
gazed at the Turks through the window, and, after
reflection, said tranquilly :

"I would have saved it— this old empire of our
fathers; but my utmost now is to die for it — ay, as
if I were blind to its uiiworthiness. God's will be
done, not mine ! "

"Talk not of dying— O beloved Lord and master,
talk not so ! It is not too late for composition. Give
me your terms, and I will go with theni to "—

"Nay, friend, I have done better— I have made
peace with myself. ... I shall be no man's slave.
There is nothing more for me— nothing except an
honorable death. How sweet a grace it is that we
can put so much glory in dying ! A day of Greek
regeneration may come — then there may be some
to do me honor — some to find worthy lessons in my
life — perchance another Emperor of Byzantium to re
member how the last of the Palasologse accepted the
will of God revealed to him in treachery and treason.
. . . But there is one at the door knocking as he
were in haste. Let him enter."

An officer of the guard was admitted.

"Your Majesty," he said, after salutation, "the
Captain Justiniani, and the Genoese, his friends, are
preparing to abandon the gates."

Constantine seized his sword, and arose.

" Tell me about it," he said, simply.

' ' Justiniani has the new ditch at St. Eomain nearly
completed, and wanting some cannon, he made re
quest for them of the High Admiral, who refused,
saying, ' The foreign cowards must take care of them
selves.' "

" Ride, sir, to the noble Captain, and tell him I am
at thy heels."

511

"Is the Duke mad?" Constantine continued, the
messenger having departed. ' ' What can he want ?
He is rich, and hath a family— boys verging on man
hood, and of excellent promise. Ah, my dear friend
in need, what canst thou see of gain for him from
Mahommed ? "

" Life, your Majesty— life, and greater riches."
"How ? I did not suppose thou thoughtest so ill of
men."

"Of some— of some— not all." Then Phranza
raised his head, and asked, bitterly: "If five galleys
won the harbor, every Moslem sail opposing, why
could not twelve or more do better ? Does not
Mahommed draw his supplies by sea ? "

The Emperor looked out of the window again, but
not at the Turks.

"Lord Phranza, "he said, presently, "thou mayst
survive to-morrow's calamity; if so, being as thou
art skilful with the pen, write of me in thy day of
leisure two things ; first, I dared not break with Duke
Notaras while Mahommed was striving for my gates-
he could and would have seized my throne— the
Church, the Brotherhoods, and the people are with
him— I am an azymite. Say of me next that I have
always held the decree of union proclaimed by the
Council of Florence binding upon Greek conscience,
and had I lived, God helping me roll back this flood of
Islam, it should have been enforced. . . . Hither
^-look hither, Lord Phranza "—he pointed out of the
window—" and thou wilt see an argument of as many
divisions as there are infidels beleaguering us why the
Church of Christ should have one head ; and as to
whether the head should be Patriarch or Bishop, is it
not enough that we are perishing for want of Western
swords ? "—He would have fallen into silence again,

512

but roused himself : " So much for the place I would
have in the world's memory. . . . But to the
present affair. Reparation is due Justiniani and his
associates. Do thou prepare a repast in the great dining
hall. Our resources are so reduced I may not speak
of it as a banquet ; but as thou lovest me do thy best
with what we have. For my part, I will ride and
summon every noble Greek in arms for Church and
State, and the. foreign captains. In such cheer, per
haps, we can heal the wounds inflicted by Notaras.
We can at least make ready to die with grace."

He went out, and taking horse, rode at speed to the
Gate St. Romain, and succeeded in soothing the of
fended Genoese.

At ten o'clock the banquet was held. The chroni
clers say of it that there were speeches, embraces, and
a fresh resolution to fight, and endure the worst or
conquer. And they chose a battle-cry— Christ and
Holy Church. At separating, the Emperor, with in
finite tenderness, but never more knightly, prayed
forgiveness of any he might have wronged or af
fronted ; and the guests came one by one to bid him
adieu, and he commended them to God, and the grati
tude of Christians in the ages to come, and his hands
were drenched with their tears.

From the Very High Residence he visited the gates,
and was partially successful in arresting the deser
tions actually in progress.

Finally, all other duties done, his mind turning
once more to God, he rode to Sancta Sophia, heard
mass, partook of the Communion, and received ab
solution according to Latin rite; after which the
morrow could hold no surprise for him. And he
found comfort repeating his own word : How sweet a
grace it is that we can put so much glory in dying.

CHAPTER XI

COUNT CORTI IN DILEMMA

FROM the repast at Blacherne— festive it was in no
sense_Count Corti escorted the Emperor to the door
of Sancta Sophia; whence, by permission, and taking
with him his nine Berbers, he rode slowly to the
residence of the Princess Irene. Slowly, we say, for
nowhere in the pent area of Byzantium was there a
soul more oppressed.

If he looked up, it was to fancy all the fortunate
planets seated in their Houses helping Mahommed's
star to a fullest flood of splendor; if he looked down,
it was to see the wager — and his soul cried out, Lost 1
Lost! Though one be rich, or great, or superior in
his calling, wherein is the profit of it if he have lost
his love ?

Besides the anguish of a perception of his rival's
better fortune, the Count was bowed by the necessity
of deciding certain consequences unforeseen at the
time the wager was made. The place of the sur
render of the Princess was fixed. Thinking forward
now, he could anticipate the scene in the great church
—the pack of fugitives, their terror and despair, the
hordes raging amongst them. How was he single-
handed to save her unharmed in the scramble of the
hour? Thoughts of her youth, beauty, and rank,
theretofore inspirations out of Heaven, set him to

514

shivering with an ague more like fear than any he
had ever known.

Nor was this all. The surrender was by the terms
to be to Mahommed himself. The Sultan was to de
mand her of him. He groaned aloud: "Oh, dear
God and Holy Mother, be merciful, and let me die ! "
For the first time it was given him to see, not alone
that he might lose the woman to his soul all the sun
is to the world, but her respect as well. By what
management was he to make the surrender without
exposing the understanding between the conqueror
and himself ? She would be present— she would see
what took place— she would hear what was said.
And she would not be frightened. The image of the
Madonna above the altar in the nave would not be
more calm. The vaguest suspicion of a compact, and
she the subject, would put her upon inquiry; then
-"Oh, fool — idiot — insensate as my sword-grip!"
Thus, between groans, he scourged himself.

It was late, but her home was now a hospital filled
with wounded men, and she its sleepless angel. Old
Lysander admitted him.

" The Princess Irene is in the chapel."
Thus directed, the Count went thither well knowing
the way. •

A soldier just dead was the theme of a solemn
recital by Sergius. The room was crowded with
women in the deepest excitement of fear. Corti
understood the cause. Poor creatures! They had
need of religious comfort. A thousand ghorts in one
view could not have overcome them as did the ap
proach of the morrow.

At the right of the altar, he discovered the Princess
in the midst of her attendants, who kept close to her,
like young birds to the mother in alarm. She was

515

quiet and self-contained. Apparently she alone heard
the words of the reader ; and whereas the Count came
in a penitent — doubtful — in a maze — unknowing
what to do or where to turn, one glance at her face
restored him. He resolved to tell her his history,
omitting only the character in which he entered he/
kinsman's service, and the odious compact with Ma-
hommed. Her consent to accompany him to Sancta
Sophia must be obtained ; for that he was come.

His presence in the chapel awakened a suppressed
excitement, and directly the Princess came to him.

' ' What has happened, Count Corti ? Why are you
here?"

" To speak with you, O Princess Irene."

" Go with me, then."

She conducted him into a passage, and closed the
door behind them.

' ' The floor of my reception room is overlaid with
the sick and suffering — my whole house is given up
to them. Speak here ; and if the news be bad, dear
Count, it were mercy not to permit the unfortunates
to hear you."

She was not thinking of herself. He took the
hand extended to him, and kissed it — to him it was
the hand of more than the most beautiful woman
in the world — it was the hand of a saint in white
traiisfigurement.

"Thy imperial kinsman, O Princess, is at the church
partaking of the Holy Communion, and receiving
absolution."

"At this hour ? Why is he there, Count ? "

Corti told her of the repast at the palace, and re
counted the scene at parting.

"It looks like despair. Can it be the Emperor is
making ready to die ? Answer, and fear not for me.

516

My life lias been a long- preparation. He believes the
defence is lost — the captains believe so — and thou ? "

' ' O Princess, it is terrible saying, but I too expect
the judgment of God in the morning."

The hall was so dimly lighted he could not see her
face ; but the nerve of sympathy is fine — he felt she
trembled. Only a moment — scarcely longer than
taking a breath — then she answered :

" Judgment is for us all. It will find me here."

She moved as if to return to the chapel; but he
stepped before her, and drawing out a chair standing
by the door, said, firmly, yet tenderly:

' ' You are weary. The labor of helping the unfor
tunate these many days — the watching and anxiety —
have been trying upon you. Sit, I pray, and hear
me."

She yielded with a sigh.

" The judgment which would find you here, O Prin
cess, would not be death, but something more terrible
— so terrible words burn in thinking of it. I have
sworn to defend you ; and the oath, and the will to
keep it, give me the right to determine where and
how the defence shall be made. If there are advan
tages, I want them, for your sweet sake."

He stopped to master his feeling.

"You have never stood on the deck of a ship in
wreck, and seen the sea rush in to overwhelm it," he
went on presently : "I have ; and I declare to you,
O beloved lady, nothing can be so like to-morrow
when the hordes break into the city, as that triumph
of waters ; and as on the deck there was no place of
safety for the perishing crew, neither will there be
place of safety for man, woman, or child in Byzan
tium then — least of all for the kinswoman of the
Emperor — for her — permit me to say it — whose love-

517

liness and virtue are themes for story-tellers through
out the East. As a prize— whether for ransom or
dishonor— richer than the churches and the palaces,
and their belongings, be they jewels or gold, or anoint
ed crown, or bone of Saint, or splinter of the True
Cross, or shred from the shirt of Christ— to him who
loves her, a prize of such excellence that glory, even
the glory Mahommed is now dreaming of when he
shall have wrenched the keys of the gates from their
rightful owner dead in the bloody breach, would pale
if set beside it for comparison, and sink out of sight
—think you she will not be hunted ? Or that the
painted Mother above the altar, though it spoke
through a miraculous halo, could save her when
found? No. no, Princess, not here, not here! .
You know I love you ; in an unreasoning moment I
dared tell you so ; and you may think me passion-
blind, and that I hung the vow to defend you upon
my soul's neck, thinking it light as this favor you
were pleased to give me ; that love being a braggart,
therefore I am a braggart. Let me set myself right
in your opinion— your good opinion, O Princess, for
it is to me a world of such fair shining I dream of it
as of a garden in Paradise. ... If you do not
know how hardly I have striven in this war, send, I
pray, and ask any of the captains, or the most Chris
tian sovereign I have just left making his peace with
God. Some of them called me mad, but I pardoned
them — they did not know the meaning of my battle-
cry—' For Christ and Irene '—that I was venturing
life less for Constantinople, less for religion — I almost
said, less for Christ — than for you, who are all things
in one to me, the fairest on earth, the best in Heaven.
. . . At last, at last I am driven to admit we may
fail — that to-morrow, whether I am here or there, at

518

your side or under the trampling, you may be a pris
oner at mercy."

At these words, of infinite anguish in utterance, the
Princess shuddered, and looked up in silent appeal.

"Attend me now. You have courage above the
courage of women; therefore I may speak with plain
ness. . . . What will become of you— I give the
conclusion of many wrangles with myself— what will
become of you depends upon the hands which hap
pen to be laid on you first. O Princess, are you
giving me heed ? Do you comprehend me ? "
" The words concern me more than life, Count."
' ' I may go on then. ... I have hope of saving
your life and honor. You have but to do what I ad
vise. If you cannot trust me, further speech were
idleness, and I might as well take leave of you.
Death in many forms will be abroad to-morrow-
nothing so easily found."

" Count Corti," she returned, "if I hesitate pledg
ing myself, it is not because of distrust. I will hear
you."

" It is well said, dear lady."

He stopped— a pleasant warmth was in his heart— a
perception, like dim light, began breaking through the
obscurities in his mind. , To this moment, in fact, he
had trouble gaining his own consent to the proposal
on his tongue; it seemed so like treachery to the
noble woman— so like a cunning inveiglement to
deliver her to Mahommed under the hated compact.
Now suddenly the proposal assumed another appear
ance — it Was the best course— the best had there been
no wager, no compact, no obligation but knightly
duty to her. As he proceeded, this conviction grew
clearer, bringing him ease of conscience and the sub
tle influence of a master arguing right. He told her

519

his history then, holding nothing back but the two
points mentioned. Twice only she interrupted him.

"Your mother, Count Corti— poor lady— how she
has suffered! But what happiness there is in store
for her!" And again: "How wonderful the escape
from the falsehoods of the Prophet ! There is no love
like Christ's love unless— unless it be a mother's."

At the conclusion, her chin rested in the soft palm
of her hand, and the hand, unjewelled, was white as
marble just carven, and, like the arm, a wonder of
grace. Of what was she thinking ?— Of him ? Had
he at last made an impression upon her? What
trifles serve the hope of lovers ! At length she asked :
"Then, O Count, thou wert his playmate in child
hood?"

A bitter pang struck him— that pensiveness was for
Mahommed— yet he answered: "I was nearest him
until he took up his father's sword."
" Is he the monster they call him ? "
"To his enemies, yes— and to all in the road to his
desires, yes— but to his friends there was never such
a friend."

" Has he heart to "—

The omission, rather than the question, hurt him—
still he returned:

"Yes, once he really loves."
Then she appeared to awake.

" To the narrative now— Forgive my wandering."
The opportunity to return was a relief to him, and
he hastened to improve it.

"I thank you for grace, O Princess, and am re
minded of the pressure of time. I must to the gate
again with the Emperor. . . . This is my pro
posal. Instead of biding here to be taken by some
rapacious hordesman, go with me to Sancta Sophia,

520

and when the Sultan comes thither — as he certainly
will — deliver yourself to him. If, before his arrival,
the plunderers force the doors of the holy house, I
will stand with you, not, Princess, as Count Corti the
Italian, but Mirza the Emir and Janissary, appointed
by the Sultan to guard you. My Berbers will help
the assumption."

He had spoken clearly, yet she hesitated.

"Ah," he said, "you doubt Mahommed. He will
be upon honor. The glory-winners, Princess, are
those always most in awe of the judgment of the
world."

Yet she sat silent.

" Or is it I who am in your doubt ? "

"No, Count. But my household — my attendants
— the poor creatures are trembling now — some of
them, I was about saying, are of the noblest families
in Byzantium, daughters of senators and lords of the
court. I cannot desert them — 110, Count Corti, not
to save myself. The baseness would be on my soul
forever. They must share my fortune, or I their fate. "

Still she was thinking of others !

More as a worshipper than lover, the Count re
plied : "I will include them in my attempt to save
you. Surely Heaven will help me, for your sake,

0 Princess."

* ' And I can plead for them with him. Count Corti,

1 will go with you."

The animation with which she spoke faded in an
instant.

"But thou— O my friend, if thou shouldst fall?"
' ' Nay, let us be confident. If Heaven does not in
tend your escape, it would be merciful, O beloved
lady, did it place me where no report of your mis
chance and sorrows can reach me. Looking at the

521

darkest side, should I not come for you, go neverthe
less to the Church. Doubt not hearing of the entry
of the Turks. Seek Mahommed, if possible, and de
mand his protection. Tell him, I, Mirza the Emir,
counselled you. On the other side, be ready to accom
pany me. Make preparation to-night — have a chair
at hand, and your household assembled— for when I
come, time will be scant. . . . And now, God be
with you ! I will not say be brave— be trustful."

She extended her hand, and he knelt, and kissed it.

" I will pray for you, Count Corti."

" Heaven will hear you."

He went out, and rejoining the Emperor, rode with
him from the Church to Blacherne.

CHAPTER XII

THE ASSAULT

THE bonfires of the hordes were extinguished about
the time the Christian company said their farewells
after the last supper in the Very High Residence, and
the hordes themselves appeared to be at rest, leaving
Night to reset her stars serenely bright over the city,
the sea, and the campania.

To the everlasting honor of that company, be it
now said, they could under cover of the darkness
have betaken themselves to the ships and escaped;
yet they went to their several posts. Having laid
their heads upon the breast of the fated Emperor, and
pledged him their lives, there is no account of one in
craven refuge at the break of day. The Emperor's
devotion seems to have been a communicable flame.

This is the more remarkable when it is remembered
that in the beginning the walls were relied upon to
offset the superiority of the enemy in numbers, while
now each knight and man-at-arms knew the vanity of
that reliance — knew himself, in other words, one of
scant five thousand men — to such diminished roll had
the besieged been reduced by wounds, death and de
sertion — who were to muster on the ruins of the outer
wall, or in the breaches of the inner, and strive
against two hundred and fifty thousand goaded by
influences justly considered the most powerful over
ferocious natures — religious fanaticism and the assur
ance of booty without limit.

The silence into which the Turkish host was sunk
did not continue a great while. The Greeks on the
landward walls became aware of a general murmur,
followed shortly by a rumble at times vibrant — so the
earth complains of the beating it receives from vast
bodies of men and animals in hurried passage.

"The enemy is forming," said John Grant to his
associate Carystos, the archer.

Minotle, the Venetian bayle, listening from the
shattered gate of Adrianople, gave order : ' ' Arouse
the men. The Turks are coming."

Justiniani, putting the finishing touches upon his
masked repairs behind what had been the alley or
passage between the towers Bagdad and St. Remain,
was called to by his lookout : ' ' Come up, Captain —
the infidels are stirring— they seem disposed to attack."

"No," the Captain returned, after a brief observa
tion, " they will not attack to-night— they are getting
ready."

None the less, without relieving his working parties,
he placed his command in station.

At Selimbria and the Golden Gate the Christians
stood to arms. So also between the gates. Then a
deep hush descended upon the mighty works — mighty
despite the slugging they had endured— and the silence
was loaded with anxiety.

For such of my readers as have held a night-watch
expectant of battle at disadvantage in the morning it
will be easy putting themselves in the place of these
warders at bay; they can think their thoughts, and
hear the heavy beating of their hearts ; they will re
member how long the hours were, and how the monot
ony of the waiting gnawed at their spirits until they
prayed for action, action. On the other hand, those
without the experience will wonder how men can bear
up bravely in such conditions — and that is a wonder.

524

In furtherance of his plan, Mahommed drew in his
irregulars, and massed them in the space between the
intrenchment and the ditch; and by bringing his
machines and small guns nearer the walls, he menaced
the whole front of defence with a line amply provided
with scaling ladders and mantelets. Behind the line
he stationed bodies of horsemen to arrest fugitives,
and turn them back to the fight. His reserves occu
pied the intrenchments. The Janissaries were retained
at his quarters opposite St. Eomain.

The hordes were clever enough to see what the
arrangement portended for them, and they at first
complained.

' ' What, grumble, do they ? " Mahommed answered.
" Eide, and tell them I say the first choice in the cap
ture belongs to the first over the walls. Theirs the
fault if the city be not an empty nest to all who come
after them."

The earth in its forward movement overtook the
moon just before daybreak ; then in the deep hush of
expectancy and readiness, the light being sufficient to
reveal to the besieged the assault couchant below them,
a long-blown flourish was sounded by the Turkish
heralds from the embrasure of the great gun.

Other trumpeters took up the signal, and in a space
incredibly short it was repeated everywhere along the
line of attack. A thunder of drums broke in upon
the music. Up rose the hordes, the archers and sling-
ers, and the ladder bearers, and forward, like a bris
tling wave, they rushed, shouting every man as he
pleased. In the same instant the machines and light
guns were set in operation. Never had the old walls
been assailed by such a tempest of bolts, arrows, stones
and bullets— never had their echoes been awakened by
an equal explosion of human voices, instruments of
martial music, and cannon.

535

The warders were not surprised by the assault so
much as by its din and fury ; and when directly the
missiles struck them, thickening into an uninterrupted
pouring rain, they cowered behind the merlons, and
such other shelters as they could find.

This did not last long — it was like the shiver and
gasp of one plunged suddenly into icy water. The
fugitives were rallied, and brought back to their
weapons, and to replying in kind; and having no
longer to shoot with care, the rabble fusing into a
compact target, especially on the outer edge of the
ditch, not a shaft, or bolt, or stone, or ball from cul-
verin went amiss. Afterwhile, their blood warming
with the work, and the dawn breaking, they could see
their advantage of position, and the awful havoc they
were playing ; then they too knew the delight in kill
ing which more than anything else proves man the
most ferocious of brutes.

The movement of the hordes was not a dash wholly
without system — such an inference would be a great
mistake. There was no pretence of alignment or
order — there never is in such attacks — forlorn hopes, re
ceiving the signal, rush on, each individual to his own
endeavor ; here, nevertheless, the Pachas and Beys di
rected the assault, permitting no blind waste of effort.
They hurled their mobs at none but the weak places —
here a breach, there a dismantled gate.

Thousands were pushed headlong into the moat.
The ladders then passed down to such of them as had
footing were heavy, but they were caught willingly ;
if too short, were spliced ; once planted so as to bring the
coping of the wall in reach, they swarmed with eager
adventurers, who, holding their shields and pikes over
head, climbed as best they could. Those below cheered
their comrades above, and even pushed them up.

"The spoils — think of the spoils— the gold, the

526

women ! . . . Allah-il- Allah / . . . Up, up —
it is the way to Paradise ! "

Darts and javelins literally cast the climbers in
a thickened shade. Sometimes a ponderous stone
plunging down cleaned a ladder from top to bottom ;
sometimes, waiting until the rounds were filled, the
besieged applied levers, and swung a score and more
off helpless and shrieking. No matter — Allah-il-
Allah I The living were swift to restore and attempt
the fatal ascents.

Every one dead and every one wounded became a
serviceable clod ; rapidly as the dump and cumber of
humanity filled the moat the ladders extended their
upward reach ; while drum-beat, battle-cry, trumpet's
blare, and the roar of cannon answering cannon blent
into one steady all-smothering sound.

In the stretches of space between gates, where the
walls and towers were intact, the strife of the archers
and slingers was to keep the Greeks occupied, lest
they should reenforce the defenders hard pressed else
where.

During the night the blockading vessels had been
warped close into the shore, and, the wall of the sea-
front being lower than those on the land side, the
crews, by means of platforms erected on the decks,
engaged the besieged from a better level. There also,
though attempts at escalade were frequent, the object
was chiefly to hold the garrison in place.

In the harbor, particularly at the Wood Gate,
already mentioned as battered out of semblance to
itself by the large gun on the floating battery, the
Turks exerted themselves to effect a landing ; but the
Christian fleet interposed, and there was a naval battle
of varying fortune.

So, speaking generally, the city was wrapped in as
sault; and when tho sim at last rode up into the clear

527

sky above the Asiatic heights, streets, houses, palaces,
churches — the hills, in fact, from the sea to the Tower
of Isaac — were shrouded in ominous vapor, through
which such of the people as dared go abroad flitted pale
and trembling; or if they spoke to each other, it was
to ask in husky voices, What have you from the gates?

Passing now to the leading actors in this terrible
tragedy. Mahommed retired to his couch early the
night previous. He knew his orders were in course
of execution by chiefs who, on their part, knew the
consequences of failure. The example made of the
Admiral in command of the fleet the day the five re
lieving Christian galleys won the port was fresh in
memory.*

"To-morrow, to-morrow," he kept repeating, while
his pages took off his armor, and laid the pieces aside.
"To-morrow, to-morrow," lingered in his thoughts,
when, his limbs stretched out comfortably on the
broad bronze cot which served him for couch, sleep
crept in as to a tired child, and laid its finger of for-
getfulness upon his eyelids. The repetition was as
when we run through the verse of a cheerful song,
thinking it out silently, and then recite the chorus
aloud. Once he awoke, and, sitting up, listened.
The mighty host which had its life by his permission
was quiet — even the horses in their apartment seemed
mindful that the hour was sacred to their master.
Falling to sleep again, he muttered : ' ' To-morrow, to
morrow — Irene and glory. I have the promise of the
stars."

To Mahommed the morrow was obviously but a
holiday which was bringing him the kingly part in a
joyous game — a holiday too slow in coming.

About the third hour after midnight he was again

* He was stretched on the ground, and whipped like a common male
factor.

538

awakened. A man stood by his cot imperfectly shad
ing the light of a lamp with his hand.

"Prince of India!" exclaimed Mahommed, rising
to a sitting posture.

"It is I, my Lord."

"What time is it?"

The Prince gave him the hour.

"Is it so near the break of day ? " Mahommed
yawned. " Tell me " — he fixed his eyes darkly on the
visitor — "tell me first why thou art here ? "

" I will, my Lord, and truly. I wished to see if you
could sleep. A common soul could not. It is well
the world has no premonitory sense. "

"Why so?"

"My Lord has all the qualities of a conqueror."

Mahommed was pleased.

' ' Yes, I will make a great day of to-morrow. But,
Prince of India, what shadows are disturbing thee ?
Why art thou not asleep ? "

" I too have a part in the day, my Lord."

"What part?"

"I will fight, and"—

Mahommed interrupted him with a laugh.

"Thou!" and he looked the stooped figure over
from head to foot.

' ' My Lord has two hands — I have four — I will show
them."

Returning to his apartment, the Prince reappeared
with Nilo.

"Behold, my Lord!"

The black was in the martial attire of a king of
Kash-Cush — feathered coronet, robe of blue and red
hanging from shoulder to heel, body under the robe
naked to the waist, assegai in the oft- wrapped white
sash, skirt to the knees glittering with crescents and
buttons of silver, sandals beaded with pearls. On his

529

left arm depended a shield rimmed and embossed with
brass ; in his right hand he bore a elub knotted, and
of weight to fell a bull at a blow. Without the
slightest abashment, but rather as a superior, the
King looked down at the young Sultan.

' ' I see — I understand — I welcome the four hands of
the Prince of India," Mahommed said, vivaciously;
then, giving a few moments of admiration to the
negro; he turned, and asked :

"Prince, I have a motive for to-morrow — nay, by
the cool waters of Paradise, I have many motives.
Tell me thine. In thy speech and action I have ob
served a hate for these Greeks deep as the Shintan's
for God. Why ? What have they done to thee ? "

" They are Christians," the Jew returned, sullenly.

' ' That is good, Prince, very good — even the Prophet
judged it a justification for cleaning the earth of the
detestable sect — yet it is not enough. I am not old
as thou "—Mahommed lost the curious gleam which
shone in the visitor's eyes — "I am not old as thou
art ; still I know hate like thine must be from a private
grievance."

"My Lord is right. To-morrow I will leave the
herd to the herd. In the currents of the fight I will
hunt but one enemy — Constantine. Judge thou my
cause."

Then he told of Lael — of his love for her — of her
abduction by Demedes — his supplication for the Em
peror's assistance — the refusal.

" She was the child of my soul," he continued, pas
sionately. "My interest in life was going out; she
reiiispired it. She was the promise of a future for
me, as the morning star is of a gladsome day. I
dreamed dreams of her, and upon her love builded
hopes, like shining castles on high hills. Yet it was
not enough that the Greek refused me his power to

530

discover and restore her. She is now in restraint,
and set apart to become the wife of a Christian — a
Christian priest — may the fiends juggle for his ghost !
— To-morrow I will punish the tyrant — I will give
him a dog's death, and then seek her. Oh! I will
find her — I will find her — and by the light there is in
love, I will show him what all of hell there can be
in one man's hate ! "

For once the cunning of the Prince overreached
itself. In the rush of passion he forgot the exquisite
sensory gifts of the potentate with whom he was
dealing; and Mahommed, observant even while
shrinking from the malignant fire in the large eyes,
discerned incoherencies in the tale, and that it was but
half told; and while he was resolving to push his
Messenger of the Stars to a full confession, a distant
rumble invaded the tent, accompanied by a trample of
feet outside.

"It is here, Prince of India — the day of Destiny.
Let us get ready, thou for thy revenge, I for glory
and " — Irene was on his tongue, but he suppressed the
name. " Call my chamberlain and equerry.
On the table there thou mayst see my arms — a mace
my ancestor Ilderim* bore at Nicopolis, and thy
sword of Solomon. . . . God is great, and the
Jinn and the Stars on my side, what have wTe to fear ? "

Within half an hour he rode out of the tent.

" Blows the wind to the city or from it ? " he asked
his chief Aga of Janissaries.

" Toward the city, my Lord."

"Exalted be the name of the Prophet! Set the
Flower of the Faithful in order — a column of front
wide as the breach in the gate — and bring the heralds.
I shall be by the great gun."

Pushing his horse on the parapet, he beheld the
* Bajazet.

531

space before him, down quite to the moat — every trace
of the cemetery had disappeared — dark with hordes
assembled and awaiting- the signal. Satisfied, happy,
he looked then toward the east. None better than he
knew the stars appointed to go before the sun— their
names were familiar to him — now they were his
friends. At last a violet corona infinitely soft glim
mered along the hill tops beyond Scutari.

"Stand out now," he cried to the five in their
tabards of gold — "stand out now, and as ye hope
couches in Paradise, blow — blow the stones out of
their beds yonder — God was never so great! "

Then ensued the general advance which has been
described, except that here, in front of St. Eomain,
there was no covering the assailants with slingers and
archers. The fill in the ditch was nearly level with
the outer bank, from which it may be described as an
ascending causeway. This advantage encouraged the
idea of pouring the hordesmen en masse over the hill
composed of the ruins of what had been the towers
of the gate.

There was an impulsive dash under incitement of a
mighty drumming and trumpeting — a race, every man
of the thousands engaged in it making for the cause
way—a jam— a mob paralyzed by its numbers. They
trampled on each other — they fought, and in the re
bound were pitched in heaps down the perpendicular
revetment on the right and left of the fill. Of those
thus unfortunate the most remained where they fell,
alive, perhaps, but none the less an increasing dump
of pikes, shields, and crushed bodies ; and in the roar
above them, cries for help, groans, and prayers were
alike unheard and unnoticed.

All this Justiniaiii had foreseen. Behind loose stones
on top of the hill, he had collected culverins, making,
in modern phrase, a masked battery, and trained the

532

pieces to sweep the causeway ; with them, as a support,
he mixed archers and pikemen. On either flank,
moreover, he stationed companies similarly armed,
extending- them to the unbroken wall, so there was
not a space in the breach undefended.

The Captain, on watch and expectant, heard the sig
nal.

" To the Emperor at Blacherne," he bade; " and say
the storm is about to break. Make haste." Then to
his men : " Light the matches, and be ready to throw
the stones down."

The hordesmen reached the edge of the ditch ; that
moment the guns were unmasked, and the Genoese
leader shouted:

" Fire, my men! — Christ and Holy Church!"

Then from the Christian works it was bullet, bolt,
stone, and shaft, making light of flimsy shield and
surcoat of hide; still the hordesmen pushed on, a
river breasting an obstruction. Now they were on
the causeway. Useless facing about — behind them an
advancing wall — on both sides the ditch. Useless
lying down — that was to be smothered in bloody mire.
Forward, forward, or die. What though the cause
way was packed with dead and wounded ? — though
there was no foothold not slippery ? — though the
smell of hot blood filled every nostril ?— though hands
thrice strengthened by despair grappled the feet mak
ing stepping blocks of face and breast ? The living
pressed on leaping, stumbling, staggering; their howl,
"Gold— spoils— women— slaves," answered from the
smoking hill, " Christ and Holy Church."

And now, the causeway crossed, the leading assail
ants gain the foot of the rough ascent. No time to catch
breath — none to look for advantage — none to profit by
a glance at the preparation to receive them — up they
must go, and up they went. Arrows and javelins

533

pierce them ; stones crush them ; the culverins spout
fire in their faces, and, lifting them off their uncertain
footing, hurl them bodily back upon the heads and
shields of their comrades. Along the brow of the
rocky hill a mound of bodies arises wondrous quick,
an obstacle to the warders of the pass who would
shoot, and to the hordesmen a barrier.

Slowly the corona on the Scutarian. hills deepened
into dawn. The Emperor joined Justiniani. Count
Corti came with him. There was an affectionate
greeting.

"Your Majesty, the day is scarcely full born, yet
see how Islam is rueing it."

Constantino, following Justiniani's pointing, peered
once through the smoke; then the necessity of the
moment caught him, and, taking post between guns,
he plied his long lance upon the wretches climbing
the rising mound, some without shields, some weap
onless, most of them incapable of combat.

With the brightening of day the mound grew in
height and width, until at length the Christians sallied
out upon it to meet the enemy still pouring on.

An hour thus. •

Suddenly, seized with a comprehension of the futil
ity of their effort, the hordesmen turned, and rushed
from the hill and the causeway.

The Christians suffered but few casualties ; yet they
would have gladly rested. Then, from the wall above
the breach, whence he had used his bow, Count Corti
descended hastily.

"Your Majesty," he said, his countenance kindled
with enthusiasm, ' ' the Janissaries are making ready. "

Justiniani was prompt. "Come!" he shouted.
' ' Come every one ! We must have clear range for
the guns. Down with these dead ! Down with the
living. No time for pity ! "

534

Setting1 the example, presently the defenders were
tossing the bodies of their enemies down the face of
the hill.

On his horse, by the great gun, Mahommed had
observed the assault, listening while the night yet
lingered. Occasionally a courier rode to him with
news from this Pacha or that one. He heard without
excitement, and returned invariably the same reply :

" Tell him to pour the hordes in."

At last an officer came at speed.

" Oh, my Lord, I salute you. The city is won."

It was clear day then, yet a light not of the morn
ing sparkled in Mahommed's eyes. Stooping in his
saddle, he asked : ' ' What sayest thou ? Tell me of it,
but beware — if thou speakest falsely, neither God nor
Prophet shall save thee from impalement to the roots
of thy tongue."

" As I have to tell my Lord what I saw with my
own eyes, I am not afraid. . . . My Lord knows
that where the palace of Blacherne begins on the
south there is an angle in the wall. There, while
our people were feigning an assault to amuse the
Greeks, they came upon a sunken gate " —

" The Cercoporta— I have heard of it."

' ' My Lord has the name. Trying it, they found it
unfastened and unguarded, and, pushing through a
darkened passage, discovered they were in the Palace.
Mounting to the upper floor, they attacked the unbe
lievers. The fighting goes on. From room to room
the Christians resist. They are now cut off, and in
a little time the quarter will be in our possession."

Mahommed spoke to Kalil : ' ' Take this man, and
keep him safely. If he has spoken truly, great shall
be his reward; if falsely, better he were not his
mother's son. " Then to one of his household : ' ' Come
hither. . . . Go to the sunken gate Cercoporta,

535

pass in, and find the chief now fighting hi the palace
of Blacherne. Tell him I, Mahommed, require that
he leave the Palace to such as may follow him, and
march and attack the defenders of this gate, St.
Romain, in the rear. He shall not stop to plunder.
I give him one hour in which to do my bidding. Ride
thou now as if a falcon led thee. For Allah and life ! "

Next he called his Aga of Janissaries.

"Have the hordes before this gate retired. They
have served their turn; they have made the ditch
passable, and the Gabours are faint with killing
them. Observe, and when the road is cleared let go
with the Flower of the Faithful. A province to the
first through ; and this the battle-cry : Allah-il- Allah !
They will fight under my eye. Minutes are worth
kingdoms. Go thou, and let go."

Always in reserve, always the last resort in doubt
ful battle, always the arm with which the Sultans
struck the finishing blow, the Janissaries thus sum
moned to take up the assault were in discipline, spirit,
and splendor of appearance the elite corps of the
martial world.

Riding to the front, the Aga halted to communicate
Mahommed's orders. Down the columns the speech
was passed.

The Flower of the Faithful were in three divisions
dismounted. Throwing off their clumsy gowns, they
stood forth in glittering mail, and shaking their
brassy shields in air, shouted the old salute : ' ' Live
the Padishah! Live the Padishah!"

The road to the gate was cleared ; then the Aga gal
loped back, and when abreast of the yellow flag of the
first division, he cried: "Allah-il- Allah ! Forward! "

And drum and trumpet breaking forth, a division
moved down in column of fifties. Slowly at first,
but solidly, and with a vast stateliness it moved. So

536

at Pharsalia marched the legion Caesar loved- -so in
decision of heady fights strode the Old Guard of the
world's last Conqueror.

Approaching the ditch, the fresh assailants set up
the appointed battle-cry, and quickening the step to
double time rushed over the terrible causeway.

Mahommed then descended to the ditch, and re
mained there mounted, the sword of Solomon in his
hand, the mace of Ilderim at his saddle bow; and
though hearing him was impossible, the Faithful
took fire from his fire — enough that they were under
his eye.

The feat attempted by the hordes was then repeated,
except now there was order in disorder. The machine,
though shaken and disarranged, kept working on,
working up. Somehow its weight endured. Slowly,
with all its drench and cumber, the hill was sur
mounted. Again a mound arose in front of the
battery — again the sally, and the deadly ply of pikes
from the top of the mound.

The Emperor's lance splintered ; he fought with a
pole-axe ; still even he became sensible of a whelming
pressure. In the gorge, the smoke, loaded with lime-
dust, dragged rather than lifted; no man saw down
it to the causeway ; yet the ascending din and clamor,
possessed of the smiting power of a gust of wind, told
of an endless array coming.

There was not time to take account of time ; but at
last a Turkish shield appeared over the ghastly ram
part, glimmering as the moon glimmers through thick
vapor. Thrusts in scores were made at it, yet it
arose ; then a Janissary sprang up on the heap, sing
ing like a muezzin, and shearing off the heads of pikes
as reapers shear green rye. He was a giant in stature
and strength. Both Genoese and Greeks were dis
posed to give him way. The Emperor rallied them.

537

Still the Turk held his footing-, and other Turks were
climbing to his support. Now it looked as if the crisis
were come, now as if the breach were lost.

In the last second a cry For Christ and Irene rang
through the melee, and Count Corti, leaping from a
gun, confronted the Turk.

"Ho, Son of Ouloubad! Hassan, Hassan!"* he
shouted, in the familiar tongue.

"Who calls me?" the giant asked, lowering his
shield, and gazing about in surprise.

' ' I call you — I, Mirza the Emir. Thy time has
come. Christ and Irene. Now ! "

With the word the Count struck the Janissary
fairly 011 the flat cap with his axe, bringing him to his
knees. Almost simultaneously a heavy stone de
scended upon the dazed man from a higher part of the
wall, and he rolled backward down the steep.

Constantiiie and Justiniani, with others, joined the
Count, but too late. Of the fifty comrades composing
Hassan's file, thirty mounted the rampart. Eighteen
of them were slain in the bout. Corti raged like a
lion; but up rushed the survivors of the next file —
and the next — and the vaiitage-poiiit was lost. The
Genoese, seeing it, said :

"Your Majesty, let us retire."

"Is it time?"

"We must get a ditch between us and this new
horde, or we are all dead men."

Then the Emperor shouted: "Back, every one!
For love of Christ and Holy Church, back to the
galley ! "

* One of the Janissaries, Hassan d'Ouloubad, of gigantic stature and
prodigious strength, mounted to the assault under cover of his shield,
his cimeter in the right hand. He reached the rampart with thirty of his
companions. Nineteen of them were cast down, and Hassan himself fell
struck by a stone. — VON HAMMER.

538

The guns, machines, store of missiles, and space
occupied by the battery were at once abandoned.
Constantino and Corti went last, facing1 the foe, who
warily paused to see what they had next to en
counter.

The secondary defence to which the Greeks re
sorted consisted of the hulk brought up, as we have
seen, by Count Corti, planted on its keel squarely in
rear of the breach, and filled with stones. From the
hulk, on right and left, wings of uncemented masonry
extended to the main wall in form thus :
A ditch fronted the line fifteen feet
in width and twelve in depth, pro
vided with movable planks for hasty passage. Cul-
verins were on the hulk, with ammunition in store.

Greatly to the relief of the jaded Christians, who,
it is easy believing, stood not on the order of going,
they beheld the reserves, under Demetrius Palseologus
and Nicholas Giudalli, in readiness behind the refuge.

The Emperor, on the deck, raised the visor of his
helmet, and looked up at an Imperial flag drooping
in the stagnant air from a stump of the mast. What
ever his thought or feeling, no one could discern on
his countenance an unbecoming expression. The fact,
of which he mdst have been aware, that this stand
taken ended his empire forever, had not shaken his
resolution or confidence. To Demetrius Palceologus,
who had lent a hand helping him up the galley's side,
he said: "Thank you, kinsman. God may still be
trusted. Open fire."

The Janissaries, astonished at the new and strange
defence, would have retreated, but could not ; the files
ascending behind drove them forward. At the edge
of the ditch the foremost of them made a despairing
effort to resist the pressure rushing them to their fate
— down they went in mass, in their last service no

539

better than the hordesmen— clods they became— clods
in bright harness instead of bull-hide and shaggy
astrakhan.

From the wings, bolts and stones ; from the height
of the wall, bolts and stones ; from the hulk, grape-
shot ; and the rattle upon the shields of the Faithful
was as the passing of empty chariots over a Pompeiian
street. Imprecations, prayers, yells, groans, shrieks,
had lodgement only in the ear of the Most Merciful.
The open maw of a ravenous monster swallowing the
column fast as Mahommed down by the great moat
drove it on — such was the new ditch.

Yet another, the final horror. When the ditch
was partially filled, the Christians brought jugs of
the inflammable liquid contributed to the defence by
John Grant, and cast them down on the writhing
heap. Straightway the trench became a pocket of
flame, or rather an oven from which the smell of
roasting human flesh issued along with a choking
cloud !

The besieged were exultant, as they well might be
—they were more than holding the redoubtable
Flower of the Faithful at bay — there was even a
merry tone in their battle-cry. Afcout that time a
man dismounted from a foaming horse, climbed the
rough steps to the deck of the galley, and delivered a
message to the Emperor.

"Your Majesty, John Grant, Minotle the bayle,
Carystos, Langasco, and Jerome the Italian are slain.
Blacherne is in possession of the Turks, and they are
marching this way. The hordes are in the streets. I
saw them, and heard the bursting of doors, and the
screams of women."

Constantine crossed himself three times, and bowed
his head.

Justiniani turned the color of ashes, and exclaimed ;
VOL. ii.— 35

640

" We are undone — undone 1 All is lost!" And that
his voice was hoarse did not prevent the words
being overheard. The fire slackened — ceased. Men
fighting jubilantly dropped their arms, and took up
the cry — "All is lost! The hordes are in, the hordes
are in ! "

Doubtless Count Corti's thought sped to the fair
woman waiting for him in the chapel, yet he kept
clear head.

"Your Majesty," he said, "my Berbers are with
out. I will take them, and hold the Turks in check
while you draw assistance from the walls. Or " — he
hesitated, " or I will defend your person to the ships.
It is not too late."

Indeed, there was ample time for the Emperor's
escape. The Berbers were keeping his horse with
Corti's. He had but to mount, and ride away. No
doubt he was tempted. There is always some sweet
ness in life, especially to the blameless. He raised
his head, and said to Justiniani :

"Captain, my guard will remain here. To keep
the galley they have only to keep the fire alive in the
ditch. You and I will go out to meet the enemy."
. . . Then hft addressed himself to Corti: "To
horse, Count, and bring Theophilus Palseologus. He
is on the wall between this gate and the gate Selim-
bria. . . . Ho, Christian gentlemen," he con
tinued, to the soldiers closing around him, "all is not
lost. The Bochiardi at the Adrianople gate have not
been heard from. To fly from an unseen foe were
shameful. We are still hundreds strong. Let us de
scend, and form. God cannot" —

That instant Justiniani uttered a load cry, and
dropped the axe he was holding. An arrow had
pierced the scales of his gauntlet, and disabled his
hand. The pain, doubtless, was great, and he started

541

hastily as if to descend from the deck. Constaiitine
called out:

"Captain, Captain!"

' ' Give me leave, Your Majesty, to go and have this
wound dressed."

"Where, Captain?"

"To my ship."

The Emperor threw his visor up — his face was
flushed — in his soul indignation contended with
astonishment.

"No, Captain, the wound cannot be serious; and
besides, how canst thou get to thy ships ? "

Justiniani looked over the bulwark of the vessel.
The alley from the gate ran on between houses abut
ting the towers. A ball from one of Mahommed's
largest guns had passed through the right-hand build
ing, leaving a ragged fissure. Thither the Captain
now pointed.

"God opened that breach to let the Turks in. I
will go out by it."

He stayed no longer, but went down the steps, and
in haste little short of a run disappeared through the
fissure so like a breach.

The desertion was in view of his Genoese, of whom
a few followed him, but not all. Many who had
been serving the guns took swords and pikes, and
gathering about the Emperor, cried out :

' ' Give orders, Your Majesty. We will bide with you. "

He returned them a look full of gratitude.

"I thank you, gentlemen. Let us go down, and
join our shields across the street. To my guard I
commit defence of the galley."

Unfastening the purple half -cloak at his back, and
taking off his helmet, he called to his sword-bearer :
' ' Here, take thou these, and give me my sword. . . .
Now, gallant gentlemen — now, my brave country-

542

men— we will put ourselves in the keeping of Heaven.-
Come!"

They had not all gained the ground, however, when
there arose a clamor in their front, and the hordesmen
appeared, and blocking up the passage, opened upon
them with arrows and stones, while such as had jave
lins and swords attacked them hand to hand.

The Christians behaved well, but none better than
Constantine. He fought with strength, and in good
countenance ; his blade quickly reddened to the hilt.

' ' Strike, my countrymen, for city and home. Strike,
every one, for Christ and Holy Church I "

And answering him : ' ' Christ and Holy Church ! "
they all fought as they had strength, and their swords
were also reddened to the hilt. Quarter was not
asked; neither was it given. Theirs to hold the
ground, and they held it. They laid the hordesmen
out over it in scattered heaps which grew, and pres
ently became one long heap the width of the alley ;
and they too fell, but, as we are willing to believe,
unconscious of pain because lapped in the delirium of
battle-fever.

Five minutes — ten — fifteen — then through the
breach by which Justiniani ingloriously fled Theophi-
lus Palseologus came with bared brand to vindicate his
imperial blood by nobly dying ; and with him came
Count Corti, Francesco de Toledo, John the Dalmatian,
and a score and more Christian gentlemen who well
knew the difference between an honorable death and
a dishonored life.

Steadily the sun arose. Half the street was in its
light, the other half in its shade ; yet the struggle en
dured; nor could any man have said God was not
with the Christians. Suddenly a louder shouting
arose behind them. They who could, looked to see
what it meant, and the bravest stood stone still at

543

sight of the Janissaries swarming on the galley.
Over the roasting bodies of their comrades, undeterred
by the inextinguishable fire, they had crossed the
ditch, and were slaying the imperial body-guard. A
moment, and they would be in the alley, and then—

Up rose a wail: "The Janissaries, the Janissaries!
Kyrie Eleison I " Through the knot of Christians it
passed— it reached Constantine in the forefront, and he
gave way to the antagonist with whom he was engaged.

" God receive my soul! " he exclaimed; and drop
ping his sword, he turned about, and rushed back with
wide extended arms.

' ' Friends— countrymen ! — Is there no Christian to
kill me?"

Then they understood why he had left his helmet off.

While those nearest stared at him, their hearts too
full 'of pity to do him the last favor one can ask of
another, from the midst of the hordesmen there came
a man of singular unfitness for such a scene — indeed
a delicate woman had not been more out of place —
for he was small, stooped, withered, very white haired,
very pale, and much bearded— a black velvet cap on
his head, and a gown of the like about his body, un
armed, and in every respect unmartial. He seemed
to glide in amongst the Christians as he had glided
through the close press of the Turks ; and as the latter
had given him way, so now the sword points of the
Christians went down— men in the heat of action for
got themselves, and became bystanders— such power
was there in the unearthly eyes of the apparition.

"Is there no Christian to kill me?" cried the
Emperor again.

The man in velvet stood before him.
"Prince of India!"

" You know me ? It is well; for now I know you
are not beyond remembering."

544

The voice was shrill and cutting, yet it shrilled and
cut the sharper.

"Remember the day I called on you to acknowl
edge God, and give him his due of worship. Kemem-
ber the day I prayed you on my knees to lend me
your power to save my child, stolen for a purpose
by all peoples held unholy. Behold your execu
tioner!"

He stepped back, and raised a hand ; and ere one of
those standing by could so much as cry to God, Nilo,
who, in the absorption of interest in his master, had
followed him unnoticed — Nilo, gorgeous in his barbar
isms of Kash-Cush, sprang into the master's place.
He did not strike ; but with infinite cruel cunning of
hand— no measurable lapse of time ensuing— drew the
assegai across the face of the astonished Emperor.
Constantine— never great till that moment of death,
but then great forever — fell forward upon his shield,
calling in strangled utterance: "God receive my
soul!"

The savage set his foot upon the mutilated coun
tenance, crushing it into a pool of blood. An instant,
then through the petrified throng, knocking them
right and left, Count Corti appeared.

"For Christ and Irene!" he shouted, dashing the
spiked boss of his shield into Nilo's eyes— down upon
the feathered coronal he brought his sword— and the
negro fell sprawling upon the Emperor.

Oblivious to the surroundings, Count Corti, on his
knees, raised the Emperor's head, slightly turning th.e
face— one look was enough. "His soul is sped ! " he
said ; and while he was tenderly replacing the head, a
hand grasped his cap. He sprang to his feet. Woe
to the intruder, if an enemy ! The sword which had
known no failure was drawn back to thrust — above
the advanced foot the shield hung in ready poise—

545

between him and the challenger there was only a
margin of air and the briefest interval of time — his
breath was drawn, and his eyes gleamed with venge
ful murder— but— some power invisible stayed his arm,
and into his memory flashed the lightning of recogni
tion.

"Prince of India," he shouted, " never wert thou
nearer death ! "

4 ' Thou— liest ! Death— and— I "—

The words were long drawn between gasps, and the
speech was never finished. The tongue thickened,
then paralyzed. The features, already distorted with
passion, swelled, and blackened horribly. The eyes
rolled back— the hands flew up, the fingers apart and
rigid— the body rocked— stiffened— then fell, sliding
from the Count's shield across the dead Emperor.

The combat meantime had gone on. Corti, with
a vague feeling that the Prince's flight of soul was a
mystery in keeping with his life, took a second to
observe him, and muttered : "Peace to him also ! "

Looking about him then, he was made aware that
the Christians, attacked in front and rear, were draw
ing together around the body of Constantine — that
their resistance was become the last effort of brave
men hopeless except of the fullest possible payment
for their lives. This was succeeded by a conviction
of duty done on his part, and of every requirement of
honor fulfilled ; thereupon with a great throb of heart,
his mind reverted to the Princess Irene waiting for
him in the chapel. He must go to her. But how ?
And was it not too late ?

There are men whose wits are supernaturally quick'
ened by danger. The Count, pushing through the
intervening throng, boldly presented himself to the
Janissaries, shouting while warding the blows they
aimed at him :

546

1 ' Have done, 0 madmen ! See you not I am your
comrade, Mirza the Emir ? Have done, I say, and let
me pass. I have a message for the Padishah ! "

He spoke Turkish, and having been an idol in tne
barracks — their best swordsman — envied, and at the
same time beloved— they kneAV him, and with acclama
tions opened their files, and let him pass,

By the fissure which had served Justiniani, he es
caped from the terrible alley, and finding his Berbers
and his horse, rode with speed for the residence of
the Princess Irene.

Not a Christian survived the combat. Greek,
Genoese, Italian lay in ghastly composite with
hordesmen and mailed Moslems around the Emperor.
In dying they had made good their battle-cry — For
Christ and Holy Church I Let us believe they will
yet have their guerdon.

About an hour after the last of them had fallen,
when the narrow passage was deserted by the liv
ing — the conquerors having moved on in search of
their hire — the Prince of India aroused, and shook
himself free of the corpses cumbering him. Upon
his knees he gazed at the dead — then at the place
— then at the sky. He rubbed his hands — made
sure he was sound of person — he seemed uncertain,
not of life, but of himself. In fact, he was asking,
Who am I ? And the question had reference to the
novel sensations of which he was conscious. What
was it coursing through his veins ? Wine ?— Elixir ?
— Some new principle which, hidden away amongst
the stores of nature, had suddenly evolved for him ?
The weights of age were gone. In his body — bones,
arms, limbs, muscles — he recognized once more the
glorious impulses of youth ; but his mind — he started
— the ideas which had dominated him were beginning
to return — and memory ! It surged back upon him,

647

and into its wonted chambers, like a wave which,
under pressure of a violent wind, has been momen
tarily driven from a familiar shore. He saw, some
what faintly at first, the events which had been
promontories and lofty peaks cast up out of the level
of his long existence. Then THAT DAY and THAT
EVENT! How distinctly they reappeared to him!
They must be the same — must be— for he beheld
the multitude on its way to Calvary, and the Victim
tottering under the Cross ; he heard the Tribune ask,
"Ho, is this the street to Golgotha ? " He heard his
own answer, "I will guide you;" and he spit upon
the fainting Man of Sorrows, and struck him. And
then the words— "TARRY THOU TILL I COME!"
identified him to himself. He looked at his hands
—they were black with what had been some other
man's life-blood, but under the stain the skin was
smooth— a little water would make them white.
And what was that upon his breast ? Beard— beard
black as a raven's wing ! He plucked a lock of hair
from his head. It, too, was thick with blood, but it
was black. Youth— youth— joyous, bounding, eager,
hopeful youth was his once more ! He stood up, and
there was no creak of rust in the hinges of his joints ;
he knew he was standing inches higher in the sunlit
air; and a cry burst from him — "O God, I give
thanks ! " The hymn stopped there, for between him
and the sky, as if it were ascending transfigured,
he beheld the Victim of the Crucifixion; and the
eyes, no longer sad, but full of accusing majesty,
were looking downward at him, and the lips were
in speech: "TARRY THOU TILL I COME!" He cov
ered his face with his hands. Yes, yes, he had his
youth back again, but it was with the old mind and
nature— youth, that the curse upon him might, in the
mortal sense, be eternal ! And pulling his black hair

548

with his young hands, wrenching at his black beard,
it was given him to see he had undergone his four
teenth transformation, and that between this one and
the last there was no lapse of connection. Old age
had passed, leaving the conditions and circumstances
of its going to the youth which succeeded. The new
life in starting picked up and loaded itself with every
burden and all the misery of the old. So now while
burrowing, as it were, amongst dead men, his head
upon the breast of the Emperor whom, treating Nilo
as an instrument in his grip, he had slain, he thought
most humanly of the effects of the transformation.

First of all, his personal identity was lost, and he
was once more a Wanderer without an acquaintance,
a friend, or a sympathizer on the earth. To whom
could he now address himself with a hope of recogni
tion ? His heart went out primarily to Lael— he loved
her. Suppose he found her, and offered to take her
in his arms ; she would repulse him. " Thou art riot
my father. He was old— thoti art young." And
Syama, whose bereavements of sense had recom
mended him for confidant in the event of his witness
ing the dreaded circumstance just befallen — if lie
addressed himself to Syama, the faithful creature
would deny him. "No; my master was old— his
hair and beard were white — thou art a youth. Go
hence." And then Mahommed, to whom he had
been so useful in bringing additional empire, and a
glory which time would make its own forever — did
he seek Mahommed again — " Thou art not the Prince
of India, my peerless Messenger of the Stars. He was
old— his hair and beard were white— thou art a boy.
Ho, guards, take this impostor, and do with him as ye
did with Balta-Ogli— stretch him on the ground,
and beat the breath out of him."

There is nothing comes to us, whether in child-

549

hood or age, so crushing as a sense of isolation. Who
will deny it had to do with the marshalling of worlds,
and the peopling them— with creation ?

These reflections did but wait upon the impulse
which still further identified him to himself— the im
pulse to go and keep going — and he cast about for
solaces.

"It is the Judgment," he said, with a grim smile;
' ' but my stores remain, and Hiram of Tyre is yet my
friend. I have my experience of more than a thou
sand years, and with it youth again. I cannot make
men better, and God refuses my services. Neverthe
less I will devise new opportunities. The earth is
round, and upon its other side there must be another
world. Perhaps I can find some daring spirit equal
to the voyage and discovery — some one Heaven may
be more willing to favor. But this meeting place of
the old continents "—he looked around him, and then
to the sky—" with my farewell, I leave it the curse of
the most accursed. The desired of nations, it shall
be a trouble to them forever."

Then he saw Nilo under a load of corpses, and
touched by remembrance of the poor savage's devo
tion, he uncovered him to get at his heart, which was
still beating. Next he threw away his cap and gown,
replaced them with a bloody tarbousche and a shaggy
Angora mantle, selected a javelin, and sauntered leis
urely on into the city. Having seen Constantinople
pillaged by Christians, he was curious to see it now
sacked by Moslems— there might be a further solace
in the comparison.*

* According to the earliest legends, the Wandering Jew was about thirty
years old when he stood in the road to Golgotha, and struck the Saviour,
and ordered him to go forward. At the end of every hundred years, the
undying man falls into a trance, during which his body returns to the
age it was when the curse was pronounced. In all other respects he re
mains unchanged.

CHAPTER XIII

MAHOMMED Itf SAlsTCTA SOPHIA

COUNT CORTI, we may well believe, did not spare
his own steed, or those of his Berbers ; and there was
a need of haste of which he was not aware upon
setting out from St. Romain. The Turks had broken
through the resistance of the Christian fleet in the
harbor, and were surging into the city by the gate
St. Peter (Phanar), which was perilously near the
residence of the Princess Irene.

Already the spoil-seekers were making sure of their
hire. More than once he dashed by groups of them
hurrying along the streets in search of houses most
likely to repay plundering. There were instances
when he overtook hordesmen already happy in the
possession of ' ' strings of slaves ; " that is to say, of
Greeks, mostly women and children, tied by their
hands to ropes, and driven mercilessly on. The wail
ing and prayers of the unfortunate smote the Count
to the heart ; he longed to deliver them ; but he had
given his best efforts to save them in the struggle to save
the city, and had failed ; now it would be a providence
of Heaven could he rescue the woman waiting for
him in such faith as was due his word and honor
specially plighted to her. As the pillagers showed no
disposition to interfere with him, he closed his eyes
and ears to their brutalities, and sped forward.

The district in which the Princess dwelt was being
overrun when he at last drew rein at her door.

551

With a horrible dread, he alighted, and pushed in
unceremoniously. The reception-room was empty.
Was he too late ? Or was she then in Sancta
Sophia ? He flew to the chapel, and blessed God and
Christ and the Mother, all in a breath. She was
before the altar in the midst of her attendants. Ser-
gius stood at her side, and of the company they alone
were perfectly self-possessed. A white veil lay fallen
over her shoulders ; save that, she was in unrelieved
black. The pallor of her countenance, caused, doubt
less, by weeks of care and unrest, detracted slightly
from the marvelous beauty which was hers by na
ture ; but it seemed sorrow and danger only in
creased the gentle dignity always observable in her
speech and manner.

" Princess Irene," he said, hastening forward, and
reverently saluting her hand, ' ' if you are still of
the mind to seek refuge in Sancta Sophia, I pray
you, let us go thither."

"We are ready," she returned. " But tell me of
the Emperor."

The Count bent very low.

' ' Your kinsman is beyond insult and further hu
miliation. His soul is with God."

Her eyes glistened with tears, and partly to con
ceal her emotion she turned to the picture above the
altar, and said, in a low voice, and brokenly :

' ' O Holy Mother, have thou his soul in thy
tender care, and be with me now, going to what fate
I know not."

The young women surrounded her, and on their
knees filled the chapel with sobbing and suppressed
wails. Striving for composure himself, the Count
observed them, and was at once assailed by an em
barrassment.

They were twenty and more. Each had a veil

552

over her head ; yet from the delicacy of their hands
he could imagine their faces, while their rank was
all too plainly certified by the elegance of their gar
ments. As a temptation to the savages, their like
was not within the walls. How was he to get
them safely to the Church, and defend them there ?
He was used to military problems, and decision was
a habit with him ; still he was sorely tried— indeed,
he was never so perplexed.

The Princess finished her invocation to the Holy
Mother.

"Count Corti," she said, "I now place myself and
these, my sisters in misfortune, under thy knightly
care. Only suffer me to send for one other. — Go,
Sergius, and bring Lael."

One other !

"Now God help me!" he cried, involuntarily;
and it seemed he was heard.

"Princess," he returned, " the Turks have posses
sion of the streets. On my way I- passed them with
prisoners whom they were driving, and they ap
peared to respect a right of property acquired. Per
haps they will be not less observant to me ; where
fore bring other veils here— enough to bind these
ladies two and two."

As she seemed hesitant, he added : ' ' Pardon me,
but in the streets you must all go afoot, to appear
ances captives just taken."

The veils were speedily produced, and the Princess
bound her trembling companions in couples hand to
hand; submitting finally to be herself tied to Lael.
Then when Sergius was more substantially joined
to the ancient Lysander, the household sallied forth.
A keener realization of the situation seized the
gentler portion of the procession once they were
in the street, and they there gave way to tears,

553

sobs, arid loud appeals to the Saints and Angels of
Mercy.

The Count rode in front; four of his Berbers
moved on each side; Sheik Hadifah guarded the
rear; and altogether a more disconsolate company
of captives it were hard imagining. A rope passing
from the first couple to the last was the only want
required to perfect the resemblance to the actual
slave droves at the moment on nearly every thor
oughfare in Constantinople.

The weeping cortege passed bands of pillagers re
peatedly.

Once what may be termed a string in fact was met
going in the opposite direction ; women and children,
and men and women were lashed together, like
animals, and their lamentations were piteous. If
they fell or faltered, they were beaten. It seemed
barbarity could go 110 further.

Once the Count was halted. A man of rank, with a
following at his heels, congratulated him in Turkish :

" O friend, thou hast a goodly capture."

The stranger came nearer.

" I will give you twenty gold pieces for this one,"
pointing to the Princess Irene, who, fortunately,
could not understand him — " and fifteen for this one. "

" Go thy way, and quickly," said Corti, sternly.

' ' Dost thou threaten me ? "

"By the Prophet, yes — with my sword, and the
Padishah."

"The Padishah! Oh, ho!" and the man turned
pale. " God is great — I give him praise."

At last the Count alighted before the main en
trance of the Church. By friendly chance, also —
probably because the site was far down toward the
sea, in a district not yet reached by the hordesmen
— the space in front of the vestibule was clear of all

554

but incoming fugitives ; and he had but to knock at
the door, and give the name of the Princess Irene
to gain admission.

In the vestibule the party were relieved of their
bonds ; after which they passed into the body of the
building, where they embraced each other, and gave
praise aloud for what they considered a final deliver
ance from death and danger; in their transports,
they kissed the marbles of the floor again and again.

While this affecting scene was going 011, Corti
surveyed the interior. The freest pen cannot do
more than give the view with a clearness to barely
stimulate the reader's imagination.

It was about eleven o'clock. The smoke of battle
which had overlain the hills of the city was dissi
pated ; so the sun, nearing high noon, poured its full
of splendor across the vast nave in rays slanted
from south to north, and a fine, almost impalpable
dust hanging from the dome in the still air, each ray
shone through it in vivid, half-prismatic relief
against the shadowy parts of the structure. Such
pillars in the galleries as stood in the paths of the
sunbeams seemed effulgent, like emeralds and rubies.
His eyes, however, refused everything except the
congregation of people.

" O Heaven ! " he exclaimed. " What is to become
of these poor souls ! "

Byzantium, it must be recalled, had had its tri
umphal days, when Greeks drew together, like Jews
on certain of their holy occasions ; undoubtedly the
assemblages then were more numerous, but never
had there been one so marked by circumstances.
This was the funeral day of the Empire !

Let the reader try to recompose the congregation
the Count beheld— civilians— soldiers— nuns— monks
—monks bearded, monks shaven, monks tonsured—

555

monks in high hats and loose veils, monks in
gowns scarce distinguishable from gowns of women
— monks by the thousand. Ah, had they but dared a
manly part on the walls, the cause of the Christ for
whom they affected such devotion would not have
suffered the humiliation to which it was now going!
As to the mass in general, let the reader think of
the rich jostled by the poor — fine ladies careless if
their robes took taint from the Lazarus' next them
— servants for once at least on a plane with haughty
masters — Senators and slaves — grandsires — mothers
with their infants — old and young, high and low,
all in promiscuous presence — society at an end —
Sancta Sophia a universal last refuge. And by no
means least strange, let the reader fancy the refugees
on their knees, silent as ghosts in a tomb, except
that now and then the wail of a child broke the
awful hush, and gazing over their shoulders, not at
the altar, but toward the doors of entrance; then
let him understand that every one in the smother of
assemblage — every one capable of thought — was in
momentary expectation of a miracle.

Here and there moved priestly figures, holding cruci
fixes aloft, and halting at times to exhort in low voices :
"Be not troubled, O dearly beloved of Christ ! The
angel will appear by the old column. If the powers
of hell are not to prevail against the Church, what
may men do against the sword of God ? "

The congregation was waiting for the promised
angel to rescue them from the Barbarians.

Of opinion that the chancel, or space within the
railing of the apse opposite him, was a better position
for his charge than the crowded auditorium, partly
because he could more easily defend them there, and
partly because Mahommed when he arrived would
naturally look for the Princess near the altar, the
VOL. n. —36

556

Count, with some trouble, secured a place within it
behind the brazen balustrade at the right of the gate.
The invasion of the holy reserve by the Berbers was
viewed askance, but submitted to; thereupon the
Princess and her suite took to waiting and praying.

Afterwhile the doors in the east were barred by
the janitor.

Still later there was knocking at them loud enough
to be by authority. The janitor had become deaf.

Later still a yelling as of a mob out in the vesti
bule penetrated to the interior, and a shiver struck
the expectant throng, less from a presentiment of
evil at hand than a horrible doubt. An angel of
the Lord would hardly adopt such an incongruous
method of proclaiming the miracle done. A mur
mur of invocation began with those nearest the
entrances, and ran from the floor to the galleries.
As it spread, the shouting increased in volume and
temper. Ere long the doors were assailed. The
noise of a blow given with determination rang
dreadful warning through the whole building, and
the concourse arose.

The women shrieked : ' ' The Turks ! The Turks ! "

Even the nuns who had been practising faith for
years joined their lay sisters in crying : ' ' The Turks !
The Turks!"

The great, gowned, cowardly monks dropped their
crucifixes, and, like the commoner sons of the
Church, howled: "The Turks! The Turks!"

Finally the doors were battered in, and sure
enough — there stood the hordesmen, armed and pan
oplied each according to his tribe or personal prefer
ence — each a most unlikely delivering angel.

This completed the panic.

In the vicinity of the ruined doors everybody,
overcome by terror, threw himself upon those be-

557

hind, and the impulsion thus started gained force
while sweeping- on. As ever in such cases, the weak
were the sufferers. Children were overrun—infants
dashed from the arms of mothers—men had need
of their utmost strength— and the wisdom of the
Count in seeking the chancel was proved. The
massive brazen railing hardly endured the pressure
when the surge reached it; but it stood, and the
Princess and her household— all, in fact, within the
chancel— escaped the crushing, but not the horror.

The spoilsmen were in strength, but they were
prudently slow in persuading themselves that the
Greeks were unarmed, and incapable of defending
the Church. Ere long they streamed in, and for
the first time in the history of the edifice the colossal
Christ on the ceiling above the altar was affronted
by the slogan of Islam — Allah-il- Allah.

Strange no was it may appear to the reader, there is
no mention in the chronicles of a life lost that day
within the walls of Sancta Sophia. The victors were
there for plunder, not vengeance, and believing there
was more profit in slaves than any other kind of prop
erty, their effort was to save rather than kill. The
scene was beyond peradventure one of the cruelest in
history, but the cruelty was altogether in taking pos
session of captives.

Tossing their arms of whatever kind upon their
backs, the savages pushed into the pack of Christians
to select whom they would have. We may be sure
the old, sick, weakly, crippled, and very young were
discarded, and the strong and vigorous chosen. Re
membering also how almost universally the hordes
were from the East, we may be sure a woman was pre
ferred to a man, and a pretty woman to an ugly one.

The hand shrinks from trying to depict the agonies
of separation which ensued — mothers torn from their

558

children, wives from husbands — their shrieks, en
treaties, despair — the mirthful brutality with which
their pitiful attempts at resistance were met— the
binding1 and dragging away — the last clutch of love
— the final disappearance. It is only needful to add
that the rapine involved the galleries no less than the
floor. All things considered, the marvel is that the
cry — there was but one, just as the sounds of many
waters are but one to the ear — which then tore
the habitual silence of the august temple should
have ever ceased — and it would not if, in its dura
tion, human sympathy were less like a flitting
echo.

Next to women, the monks were preferred, and
the treatment they received was not without its
touches of grim humor. Their cowls were snatched
off, and bandied about, their hats crushed over their
ears, their veils stuffed in their mouths to stifle their
outcries, their rosaries converted into scourges ; and
the laughter when a string of them passed to the
doors was long and loud. They had pulled their
monasteries down upon themselves. If the Emperor,
then lying in the bloody alley of St. Romain, dead
through their bigotry, superstition, and cowardice,
had been vengeful in the slightest degree, a knowl
edge of the judgment come upon them so soon
would have been at least restful to his spirit.

It must not be supposed Count Corti was indiffer
ent while this appalling scene was in progress. The
chancel, he foresaw, could not escape the foray.
There was the altar, loaded with donatives in gold
and precious stones, a blazing pyramidal invitation.
When the doors were burst in, he paused a moment
to see if Mahommed were coming.

' ' The hordes are here, O Princess, but not the
Sultan."

559

She raised her veil, and regarded him silently.

"I see now but one resort. As Mirza the Emir, I
must meet the pillagers by claiming the Sultan
sent me in advance to capture and guard you for
him."

"We are at mercy, Count Corti," she replied.
"Heaven deal with you as you deal with us."

' ' If the ruse fails, Princess, I can die for you. Now
tie yourselves as before — two and two, hand to hand.
It may be they will call on me to distinguish such as
are my charge. "

She cast a glance of pity about her.

' ' And these, Count— these poor women not of my
house, and the children — can you not save them
also ? "

"Alas, dear lady! The Blessed Mother must be
their shield."

While the veils were being applied, the surge
against the railing took place, leaving a number of
dead and fainting across it.

"Hadif ah," the Count called out, "clear the way
to yon chair against the wall."

The Sheik set about removing the persons block
ading the space, and greatly affected by their con
dition, the Princess interceded for them.

' • Nay, Count, disturb them not. Add not to their
terror, I pray."

But the Count was a soldier ; in case of an affray,
he wanted the advantage of a wall at his back.

"Dear lady, it was the throne of your fathers,
now yours. I will seat you there. From it you can
best treat with the Lord Mahommed."

Ere long some of the hordes — half a dozen or
more— came to the chancel gate. They were of the
rudest class of Anatolian shepherds, clad principally
in half -cloaks of shaggy goat-skin. Each bore at

560

his back a round buckler, a bow, and a clumsy quiver
of feathered arrows. Awed by the splendor of the
altar and its surrounding's, they stopped; then, with
shouts, they rushed at the tempting display, unmind
ful of the living spoils crouched on the floor dumb
with terror. Others of a like kind reenforced them,
and there was a fierce scramble. The latest comers
turned to the women, and presently discovered the
Princess Irene sitting upon the throne. One, more
eager than the rest, was indisposed to respect the
Berbers.

"Here are slaves worth having. Get your ropes,"
he shouted to his companions.

The Count interposed.

"Art thou a believer ? " he asked in Turkish.

They surveyed him doubtfully, and then turned
to Hadifah and his men, tall, imperturbable looking,
their dark faces visible through their open hoods of
steel. They looked at their shields also, and at their
bare cimeters resting points to the floor.

" Why do you ask ?" the man returned.

"Because, as thou mayst see, we also are of the
Faithful, and do not wish harm to any whose
mothers have taught them to begin the day with
the Fah-hat."

The fellow was impressed.

"Who art thou?"

"I am the Emir Mirza, of the household of our
Lord the Padishah — to whom be all the promises of the
Koran ! These are slaves I selected for him — all these
thou seest in bonds. I am keeping them till he arrives.
He will be here directly. He is noAV coming."

A man wearing a bloody tarbousche joined the
pillagers, during this colloquy, and pressing in, heard
the Emir's name passing from mouth to mouth.

"The Emir Mirza! I knew him, brethren. He

561

commanded the caravan, and kept the mahmals, the
year I made the pilgrimage. . . . Stand off, and
let me see." After a short inspection, he continued:
"Truly as there is no God but God, this is he. I
was next him at the most holy corner of the Kaaba
when he fell down struck by the plague. I saw him
kiss the Black Stone, and by virtue of the kiss he
lived. . . . Ay, stand back — or if you touch him,
or one of these in his charge, and escape his hand,
ye shall not escape the Padishah, whose first sword
he is, even as Khalid was first sword for the Prophet
— exalted be his name ! . . . Give me thy hand,
O valiant Emir."

He kissed the Count's hand.

"Arise, O son of thy father," said Corti; "and
when our master, the Lord Mahommed, hath set up
his court and harem, seek me for reward."

The man stayed awhile, although there was no fur
ther show of interference; and he looked past the
Princess to Lael cowering near her. He took no in
terest in what was going on around him — Lael alone
attracted him. At last he shifted his sheepskin cov
ering higher upon his shoulders, and left these words
with the Count :

' ' The women are not for the harem. I understand
thee, O Mirza. When the Lord Mahommed hath set
up his court, do thou tell the little Jewess yonder
that her father the Prince of India charged thee to
give her his undying love."

Count Corti was wonder struck — he could not
speak — and so the Wandering Jew vanished from
his sight as he now vanishes from our story.

The selection among the other refugees in the
chancel proceeded until there was left of them only
such as were considered not worth the having.

A long time passed, during which the Princess

562

Irene sat with veil drawn close, trying- to shut out
the horror of the scene. Her attendants, clinging- to
the throne and to each other, seemed a heap of dead
women. At last a crash of music was heard in the
vestibule — drums, cymbals, and trumpets in blatant
flourish. Four runners, slender lads, in short, sleeve
less jackets over white shirts, and wide trousers of
yellow silk, barefooted and bareheaded, stepped
lig-htly throug-h the central doorway, and, waving
wands tipped with silver balls, cried, in long-toned
shrill iteration: "The Lord Mahommed— Mahom-
med, Sultan of Sultans."

The spoilsmen suspended their hideous labor— the
victims, moved doubtless by a hope of rescue, gave
over their lamentations and struggling — only the
young children, and the wounded, and suffering per
sisted in vexing the floor and galleries.

Next to enter were the five official heralds. Halt
ing, they blew a triumphant refrain, at which the
thousands of eyes not too blinded by misery turned
to them.

And Mahommed appeared !

He too had escaped the Angel of the false monks !

When the fighting ceased in the harbor, and report
assured him of the city at mercy, Mahommed gave
order to make the Gate St. Romain passable for
horsemen, and with clever diplomacy summoned
the Pachas and other military chiefs to his tent; it
was his pleasure that they should assist him in tak
ing possession of the prize to which he had been
helped by their valor. With a rout so constituted at
his back, and an escort of Silihdars mounted, the
runners and musicians preceding him, he made his
triumphal entry into Constantinople, traversing the
ruins of the towers Bagdad and St. Romain.

He was impatient and restless. In their ignor-

563

ance of his passion for the Grecian Princess, his
ministers excused his behavior on account of his
youth * and the greatness of his achievement. Pass
ing- St. Romain, it was also observed he took no in
terest in the relics of combat still there. He gave
his guides but one order :

" Take me to the house the Gdbours call the Glory
of God."

' ' Sancta Sophia, my Lord ? "

"Sancta Sophia — and bid the runners run."

His Sheik-ul-Islam was pleased.

"Hear ! " he said to the dervishes with him. "The
Lord Mahommed will make mosques of the houses
of Christ before sitting down in one of the palaces.
His first honors are to God and the Prophet. "

And they dutifully responded: "Great are God
and his Prophet! Great is Mahommed, who con
quers in their names ! "

The public edifices by which he was guided —
churches, palaces, and especially the high aque
duct, excited his admiration ; but he did not slacken
the fast trot in which he carried his loud cavalcade
past them until at the Hippodrome.

"What thing of devilish craft is here?" he ex
claimed, stopping in front of the Twisted Serpents.
"Thus the Prophet bids me!" and with a blow of
his mace, he struck off the lower jaw of one of the
Pythons.

Again the dervishes shouted : ' ' Great is Mahom
med, the servant of God ! "

It was his preference to be taken to the eastern
front of Sancta Sophia, and in going the guides led
him by the corner of the Bucoleon. At sight of the
vast buildings, their incomparable colonnades and
cornices, their domeless stretches of marble and por-

* He was iu his twenty-third year.
VOL. IT.— 37

564

phyry, he halted the second time, and in thought of
the vanity of human glory, recited :

" The spider hath woven his web in the imperial palace ;
And the owl hath sung her watch-song on the towers of
Afrasiab."

In the space before the Church, as elsewhere along
the route he had come, the hordes were busy carry
ing off their wretched captives ; but he affected not
to see them. They had bought the license of him,
many of them with their blood.

At the door the suite dismounted. Mahommed
however, kept his saddle while surveying the
gloomy exterior. Presently he bade :

"Let the runners and the heralds enter."

Hardly were they gone in, when he spoke to one
of his pages: "Here, take thou this, and give me
my cimeter." And then, receiving the ruby-hilted
sword of Solomon in exchange for the mace of
Ilderim, without more ado he spurred his horse up
the few broad stone steps, and into the vestibule.
Thence, the contemptuous impulse yet possessing
him, he said loudly : ' ' The house is denied with
idolatrous images — Islam is in the saddle."

In such manner— mounted, sword in hand, shield
behind him — clad in beautiful gold-washed chain
mail, the very ideal of the immortal Emir who won
Jerusalem from the Crusaders, and restored it to
Allah and the Prophet — Mahommed made his first
appearance in Sancta Sophia.

Astonishment seized him. He checked his horse.
Slowly his gaze ranged over the floor — up to the
galleries — up — up to the swinging dome— in all archi
tecture nothing so nearly a self-depending sky.

" Here, take the sword — give me back my mace,"
he said.

565

And in a fit of enthusiasm, not seeing-, not caring
for the screaming- wretches under hoof, he rode
forward, and, standing- at full height in his stirrups,
shouted : ' ' Idolatry be done ! Down with the Trinity.
Let Christ give way for the last arid greatest of the
Prophets! To God the one God, I dedicate this
house ! "

Therewith he dashed the mace against a pillar;
and as the steel rebounded, the pillar trembled.*

" Now give me the sword again, and call Achmet,
my muezzin — Achmet with the flute in his throat."

The moods of Mahommed were swift going and
coming. Riding out a few steps, he again halted to
give the floor a look. This time evidently the house
was not in his mind. The expression on his face
became anxious. He was searching for some one,
and moved forward so slowly the people could get
out of his way, and his suite overtake him. At
length he observed the half-stripped altar in the
apse, and went to it.

The colossal Christ on the ceiling peered down on
him through the shades beginning to faintly fill the
whole west end.

Now he neared the brazen railing of the chancel —
now he was at the gate — his countenance changed
— his eyes brightened — he had discovered Count
Corti. Swinging lightly from his saddle, he passed
with steps of glad impatience through the gateway.

Then to Count Corti came the most consuming
trial of his adventurous life.

The light was still strong enough to enable him to
see across the Church. Comprehending the flour
ish of the heralds, he saw the man on horseback
enter; and the mien, the pose in the saddle, the

* The guides, if good Moslems, take great pleasure in showing tourists
the considerable dent left by this blow in the face of the pillar.

566

rider's whole outward expose of spirit, informed him
with such certainty as follows long and familiar
association, that Mahommed was come — Mahommed,
his ideal of romantic orientalism in arms. A tremor
shook him — his cheek whitened. To that moment
anxiety for the Princess had held him so entirely
he had not once thought of the consequences of
the wager lost; now they were let loose upon him.
Having saved her from the hordes, now he must
surrender her to a rival — now she was to go from
him forever. Verily it had been easier parting with
his soul. He held to his cimeter as men instantly
slain sometimes keep grip on their weapons ; yet
his head sunk upon his breast, and he saw noth
ing more of Mahommed until he stood before him
inside the chancel.

" Count Corti, where is " —

Mahommed caught sight of the Count's face.

" Oh, my poor Mirza ! "

A volume of words could not have so delicately
expressed sympathy as did that altered tone.

Taking off his steel glove, the fitful Conqueror
extended the bare hand, and the Count, partially
recalled to the situation by the gracious offer, sunk
to his knees, and carried the hand to his lips.

"I have kept the faith, my Lord," he said in
Turkish, his voice scarcely audible. "This is she
behind me — upon the throne of her fathers. Ee-
ceive her from me, and let me depart."

' ' My poor Mirza ! We left the decision to God,
and he has decided. Arise, and hear me now."

To the notables closing around, he said, impe
riously: "Stand not back. Come up, and hear
me."

Stepping past the Count, then, he stood before the
Princess.

567

She arose without removing her veil, and would
have knelt ; hut Mahommed moved nearer, and pre
vented her.

The training of the politest court in Europe was
in her action, and the suite looking on, used to slav-
ishness in captives, and tearful humility in women,
beheld her with amazement ; nor could one of them
have said which most attracted him, her queenly
composure or her simple grace.

"Suffer me, my Lord," she said to him; then to
her attendants: "This is Mahommed the Sultan.
Let us pray him for honorable treatment."

Presently they were kneeling, and she would have
joined them, but Mahommed again interfered.

"Your hand, O Princess Irene! I wish to salute

it."

Sometimes a wind blows out of the sky, and
swinging the bell in the cupola, starts it to ring
ing itself ; so now, at sight of the only woman he
ever really loved overtaken by so many misfortunes,
and actually threatened by a rabble of howling
slave-hunters, Mahommed's better nature thrilled
with pity and remorse, and it was only by an effort
of will he refrained from kneeling to her, and giv
ing his passion tongue. Nevertheless a kiss, though
on the hand, can be made tell a tale of love, and
that was what the youthful Conqueror did.

"I pray next that you resume your seat," he con
tinued. " It has pleased God, O daughter of a Palae-
ologus, to leave you the head of the Greek people ; and
as I have the te*rms of a treaty to submit of great
concern to them and you, it were more becoming did
you hear me from a throne. . . . And first, in this
presence, I declare you a free woman— free to go or
stay, to reject or to accept— for a treaty is impossible
except to sovereigns. If it be your pleasure to go, I

568

pledge conveyance, whether by sea or land, to you
and yours — attendants, slaves, and property; nor
shall there be in any event a failure of moneys to
keep you in the state to which you have been used."

" For your grace, Lord Mahommed, I shall beseech
Heaven to reward you. "

' ' As the God of your faith is the God of mine, O
Princess Irene, I shall be grateful for your prayers.
. . . In the next place, I entreat you to abide here ;
and to this I am moved by regard for your happiness.
The conditions will be strange to you, and in your
going about there will be much to excite comparisons
of the old with the new ; but the Arabs had once a
wise man, El Hatim by name — you may have heard of
him " — he cast a quick look at the eyes behind the veil
— "El Hatim, a poet, a warrior, a physician, and he
left a saying: 'Herbs for fevers, amulets for mis
chances, and occupation for distempers of memory.'
If it should be that time proves powerless over your
sorrows, I would bring employment to its aid. . . .
Heed me now right well. It pains me to think of
Constantinople without inhabitants or commerce,
its splendors decaying, its palaces given over to
owls, its harbor void of ships, its churches vacant
except of spiders, its hills desolations to eyes afar
on the sea. If it become not once more the cap
ital city of Europe and Asia, some one shall have
defeated the will of God ; and I cannot endure that
guilt or the thought of it. ' Sins are many in kind
and degree, differing as the leaves and grasses dif
fer,' says a dervish of my people; * but for him who
stands wilfully in the eyes of the Most Merciful—
for him only shall there be no mercy in the Great
Day.' . . . Yes, heed me right well — I am not
the enemy of the Greeks, O Princess Irenfc. Their
power could not agree with mine, and I made war

569

upon it; but now that Heaven has decided the issue,
I wish to recall them. They will not listen to me.
Though I call loudly and often, they will remem
ber the violence inflicted on them in my name.
Their restoration is a noble work in promise. Is
there a Greek of trust, and so truly a lover of his
race, to help me make the promise a deed done?
The 'man is not; but thou, O Princess— thou art.
Behold the employment I offer you ! I will commis
sion you to bring them home-even these sorrowful
creatures going hence in bonds. Or do you not love
them so much ? . . . Religion shall not hinder
you. In the presence of these, my ministers of state,
I swear to divide houses of God with you; half of
them shall be Christian, the other half Moslem; and
neither sect shall interfere with the other's worship.
This I will seal, reserving only this house, and that
the Patriarch be chosen subject to my approval. Or
do you not love your religion so much ? " . . .

During the discourse the Princess listened in
tently ; now she would have spoken, but he lifted his
hand.

" Not yet, not yet ! it is not well for you to answer
now. I desire that you have time to consider— and
besides, I come to terms of more immediate concern to
you. .' . . Here, in the presence of these witnesses,
O Princess Irene, I offer you honorable marriage."
Mahommed bowed very low at the conclusion of

this proposal.

" And wishing the union in conscience agreeable to
you I undertake to celebrate it according to Chris
tian rite and Moslem. So shall you become Queen
of the Greeks— their intercessor— the restorer and
protector of their Church and worship— so shall you
be placed in a way to serve God purely and unself
jshly ; and if a thirst for glory has ever moved you,

570

0 Princess, I present it to you a cupful larger than
woman ever drank. . . . You may reside here
or in Therapia, and keep your private chapel and
altar, and choose whom you will to serve them. And
these things I will also swear to and seal."

Again she would have interrupted him.

"No— bear with me for the once. I invoke your
patience," he said. "In the making of treaties, O
Princess, one of the parties must first propose terms ;
then it is for the other to accept or reject, and in
turn propose. And this"— he glanced hurriedly
around — "this is no time nor place for argument.
Be content rather to return to your home in the city
or your country-house at Therapia. In three days,
with your permission, I will come for your answer ;
and whatever it he, I swear by Him who is God of
the world, it shall be respected. . . . When I
come, will you receive me ? "

" The Lord Mahommed will be welcome."

" Where may I wait on you ? "

" At Therapia," she answered.

Mahommed turned about then.

" Count Corti, go thou with the Princess Irene to
Therapia. I know thou wilt keep her safely.— And
thou, Kalil, have a galley suitable for a Queen of
the Greeks made ready on the instant, and let there
be no lack of guards despatched with it, subject to
the orders of Count Corti, for the time once more
Mirza the Emir. . . . O Princess, if I have been
peremptory, forgive me, and lend me thy hand
again. I wish to salute it. "

Again she silently yielded to his request.

Kalil, seeing only politics in the scene, marched
before the Princess clearing the way, and directly
she was out of the Church. At the suggestion of the
Count, sedan chairs were brought, and she and her

571

half-stupefied companions carried to a galley, arriv
ing- at Therapia about the fourth hour after sunset.

Mahommed had indeed been imperious in the inter
view; but, as he afterward explained to her, with
many humble protestations, he had a part to play
before his ministers.

No sooner was she removed than he gave orders to
clear the building- of people and idolatrous symbols ;
and while the work was in progress, he made a tour
of inspection going from the floor to the galleries.
His wonder and admiration were unbounded.

Passing along the right-hand gallery, he overtook
a pilferer with a tarbousche full of glass cubes picked
from one of the mosaic pictures.

"Thou despicable ! " he cried, in rage. " Knowest
thou not that I have devoted this house to Allah ?
Profane a Mosque, wilt thou ? "

And he struck the wretch with the flat of his
sword. Hastening then to the chancel, he sum
moned Achmet, the muezzin.

u What is the hour ? " he asked.

" It is the hour of the fourth prayer, my Lord."

' ' Ascend thou then to the highest turret of the
house, and call the Faithful to pious acknowledg
ment of the favors of God and his Prophet — may
their names be forever exalted."

Thus Sancta Sophia passed from Christ to Maho
met ; and from that hour to this Islam has had sway
within its walls. Not once since have its echoes
been permitted to respond to a Christian prayer or a
hymn to the Virgin. Nor was this the first instance
when, to adequately punish a people for the debase
ment and perversions of his revelations, God, in
righteous anger, tolerated their destruction.

To-day there are two cities, lights once of the
whole earth, under curses so deeply graven in their

572

remains — sites, walls, ruins — that every man and
woman visiting them should be brought to know
why they fell.

Alas, for Jerusalem !

Alas, for Constantinople !

POSTSCRIPTS.

In the morning of the third day after the fall of
the city, a common carrier galley drew alongside
the marble quay in front of the Princess' garden at
Therapia, and landed a passenger — an old, decrepit
man, cowled and gowned like a monk. With totter
ing steps he passed the gate, and on to the portico of
the classic palace. Of Lysander, he asked : "Is the
Princess Irene here or in the city ? "

"She is here."

' ' I am a Greek, tired and hungry. Will she see
me?"

The ancient doorkeeper disappeared, but soon re
turned.

" She will see you. This way."

The stranger was ushered into the reception room.
Standing before the Princess, he threw back his
cowl. She gazed at him a moment, then went to
him and, taking his hands, cried> her eyes streaming
with tears : ' ' Father Hilarion ! Now praised be God
for sending you to me in this hour of uncertainty
and affliction ! "

Needless saying the poor man's trials ended there,
and that he never again went cold, or hungry, or in
want of a place to lay his head.

But this morning, after breaking fast, he was
taken into council, and the proposal of marriage
being submitted to him, he asked .first:

" What are thy inclinations, daughter ? "

573

And she made unreserved confession.

The aged priest spread his hands paternally over
her head, and, looking upward, said solemnly: "I
think I see the Great Designer's purpose. He gave
thee, O daughter, thy beauties of person and spirit,
and raised thee up out of unspeakable sorrows, that
the religion of Christ should not perish utterly in the
East. Go forward in the way He has opened unto
thee. Only insist that Mahommed present himself
at thy altar, and there swear honorable dealing with
thee as his wife, and to keep the treaty proposed by
him in spirit and letter. Doth he those things with
out reservation, then fear not. The old Greek Church
is not all we would have it, but how much better it
is than irreligion ; and who can now say what will
happen once our people are returned to the city ? "

In the afternoon, a boat with one rower touched
at the same marble quay, and disembarked an Arab.
His face was a dusty brown, and he wore an abba
such as children of the Desert affect. His dark eyes
were wonderfully bright, and his bearing was high, as
might be expected in the Sheik of a tribe whose camels
were thousands to the man, and who dwelt in dowars
with streets after the style of cities. On his right fore
arm he carried a crescent-shaped harp of five strings,
inlaid with colored woods and mother of pearl.

"Does not the Princess Irene dwell here?" he
asked.

Lysander, viewing him suspiciously, answered:
"The Princess Irene dwells here."

"Wilt thou tell her one Aboo-Obeidah is at the
door with a Blessing and a story for her ? "

The doorkeeper again disappeared, and, returning,
answered, with evident misgivings, "The Princess
Irene prays you to come in."

574

Aboo-Obeidah tarried at the Therapian palace till
night fell ; and his story was an old one then, but he
contrived to make it new; even as at this day,
though four hundred and fifty years older than
when he told it to the Princess, women of white
souls, like hers, still listen to it with downcast eyes
and flushing cheeks — the only story which Time has
kept and will forever keep fresh and persuasive as in
the beginning.

They were married in her chapel at Therapia,
Father Hilarion officiating. Thence, when the city
was cleansed of its stains of war, she went thither
with Mahommed, and he proclaimed her his Sultana
at a feast lasting through many days.

And in due time he built for her the palace be
hind Point Demetrius, yet known as the Seraglio.
In other words, Mahommed the Sultan abided
faithfully by the vows Aboo-Obeidah made for
him.*

And so, with ampler means, and encouraged by
Mahommed, the Princess Irene spent her life doing
good, and earned the title by which she became
known amongst her countrymen — The Most Gracious
Queen of the Greeks.

Sergius never took orders formally. With the
Sultana Irene and Father Hilarion, he preferred the
enjoyment and practice of the simple creed preached
by him in Sancta Sophia, though as between the
Latins and the orthodox Greeks he leaned to the
former. The active agent dispensing the charities of

* The throne of Mahommed was guarded by the numbers and fidelity
of hie Moslem subjects ; but his national policy aspired to collect the
remnant of the Greeks ; and they returned in crowds as soon as they
were assured of their lives, their liberties, and the free exercise of their
religion. . . . The churches of Constantinople were shared between
the two religions. — GIBBON.

575

his imperial benefactress, be endeared himself to the
people of both religions. Ere long, he married Lael,
and they lived happily to old age.

Nilo was found alive, and recovering, joined
Count Corti.

Count Corti retained the fraternal affection of
Mahommed to the last. The Conqueror strove to
keep him. He first offered to send him ambassador
to John Sobieski; that being declined, he proposed
promoting him chief Aga of Janissaries, but the
Count declared it his duty to hasten to Italy, and
devote himself to his mother. The Sultan finally
assenting, he took leave of the Princess Irene the
day before her marriage.

An officer of the court representing Mahommed
conducted the Count to the galley built in Venice.
Upon mounting the deck he was met by the Tripoli-
tans, her crew, and Sheik Hadifah, with his fight
ing Berbers. He was then informed that the vessel
and all it contained belonged to him.

The passage was safely made. From Brindisi he
rode to Castle Corti. To his amazement, it was com
pletely restored. Not so much as a trace of the fire
and pillage it had suffered was to be seen.

His reception by the Countess can be imagined.
The proofs he brought were sufficient with her, and
she welcomed him with a joy heightened by recollec
tions of the years he had been lost to her, and the
manifest goodness of the Blessed Madonna in at last
restoring him— the joy one can suppose a Christian
mother would show for a son returned to her, as it
were, from the grave.

The first transports of the meeting over, he re
verted to the night he saw her enter the chapel :

576

"The Castle was then in ruins; how is it I now
find it rebuilt ? "

" Did you not order the rebuilding ? "

" I knew nothing of it."

Then the Countess told him a man had presented
himself some months prior, with a letter purporting
to be from him, containing directions to repair the
Castle, and spare no expense in the work.

"Fortunately," she said, "the man is yet in
Brindisi. "

The Count lost no time in sending for the stranger,
who presented him a package sealed and enveloped
in oriental style, only on the upper side there was
a tughra, or imperial seal, which he at once recog
nized as Mahommed's. With eager fingers he took
off the silken wraps, and found a note in translation
as follows :

"Mahommed the Sultan to Ugo, Count Corti, formerly
Mirza the Emir.

" The wager we made, O my friend, who should have been
the son of my mother, is not yet decided, and as it is not given
a mortal to know the will of the Most Compassionate until he
is pleased to expose it, 1 cannot say what the end will be. Yet
I love you, and have faith in you ; and wishing you to be so
assured whether I win or lose, I send Mustapha to your coun
try in advance with proofs of your heirship, and to notify
the noble lady, your mother, that you are alive, and about re
turning to her. Also, forasmuch as a Turk destroyed it, he is
ordered to rebuild^ your father's castle, and add to the estate
all the adjacent lands he can buy; for verily no Countship
can be too rich for the Mirza who was my brother. And these
things he will do in your name, not mine. And when it is
done, if to your satisfaction, 0 Count, give him a statement
that he may come to me with evidence of his mission dis
charged.
" I commend you to the favor of the Compassionate.

MAHOMMED."

When the missive was read, Mustapha knelt to the

577

Count, and saluted him. Then he conducted him
into the chapel of the castle, and going to the altar,
showed him an iron door, and said:

"My master, the Lord Mahommed, instructed me
to deposit here certain treasure with which he
graciously intrusted me. Receive the key, I pray,
and search the vault, and view the contents, and, if
it please you, give me a certificate which will enable
me to go back to my country, and live there a faith
ful servant of my master, the Lord Mahommed—
may he be exalted as the Faithful are !"

Now when the Count came to inspect the contents
of the vault he was displeased ; and seeing it, Mus-
tapha proceeded:

"My master, the Lord Mahommed, anticipated
that you might protest against receiving the treas
ure; if so, I was to tell you it was to make good in
some measure the sums the noble lady your mother
has paid in searching for you, and in masses said
for the repose of your father's soul."
Corti could not do else than accept.
Finally, to complete the narrative, he never mar
ried. The reasonable inference is, he never met a
woman with graces sufficient to drive the Princess
Irene from his memory.

After the death of the Countess, his mother, he
went up to Rome, and crowned a long service as
chief of the Papal Guard by dying of a wound re
ceived in a moment of victory. Hadifah, the Ber
bers, and Nilo chose to stay with him throughout.
The Tripolitans were returned to their country;
after which the galley was presented to the Holy
Father.

Once every year there came to the Count a special
messenger from Constantinople with souvenirs ; some
times a sword royally enriched, sometimes a suit of

578

rare armor, sometimes horses of El Hajez— these
were from Mahommed. Sometimes the gifts were
precious relics, or illuminated Scriptures, or rosaries,
or crosses, or triptychs wonderfully executed— so
Irene the Sultana chose to remind him of her grati
tude.

Syama wandered around Constantinople a few
days after the fall of the city, looking for his mas
ter, whom he" refused to believe dead. Lael offered
him asylum for life. Suddenly he disappeared, and
was never seen or heard of more. It may be pre
sumed, we think, that the Prince of India succeeded
in convincing him of his identity, and took him to
other parts of the world— possibly back to Cipango.

THE END.

LOAN DEPT.

Th; & lE,NfV^ALS ONLY— TEL. NO. 642-3405

_J '. -

(N538V10)476-A32

_-. , :':a/ri/

.General Library

University of California

Berkeley

THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "The prince of India, or, Why Constantinople fell"

See other formats