The Captain of the Janizaries - Part 32
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Part 32

The morning came; and the cheer of the sunlight which, quickening the outer world, poured through the windows high in the walls of her apartment, seemed to awaken her from her trance. But how changed in appearance! The ruddy hue of health, and the bronzing of daily exposure to the open air, seemed alike to have been blanched by that which had taken hope from her soul. Her eyes were sunken, and the l.u.s.tre in them, though not lessened, now seemed to come from an infinite depth--from some distant, inner world which had lost all relation to this, as a pa.s.sing star. Morsinia rose, weak at first; but her limbs grew strong with the imparted strength of her will. She ate; and speaking aloud--but more in addressing herself than her attendants--said: "I will away to the walls!"

Through the ma.s.ses of debris, and among the groups of men who were resting and waiting to take the places of their wearied comrades on the ramparts, she went straight to the gate of St. Roma.n.u.s, where the a.s.saults were most incessant. The cry of "The Little Empress!" gave way to that of "The Panurgia! The Panurgia!"[77] as some, though familiar with her form, were startled by the almost unearthly change of her countenance. She returned no salutation as was usual with her, but, as if impelled by some superhuman purpose, her beauty lit as with a halo by the majesty of a celestial pa.s.sion, she climbed the steps into the tottering tower above the gate. A strong, but gentle hand was put upon her arm. It was that of the Emperor.

"My daughter, you must not be here. Come away!"

She looked at him for an instant in hesitation; and then, bowing her head, responded in scarcely audible voice:

"I will obey you, Sire," and added, speaking to herself--

"It is _his_ will too."

"I know your grief," said his majesty kindly, "and now, as your Emperor, I must protect you against yourself."

"I want no protection," cried the broken-hearted girl. "Oh, let me die! For what should I live?"

"My dear child," said the Emperor with trembling voice, while the tears filled his eyes. "In other days your holy faith taught me how to be strong. Now, in your necessity, let me repeat to you the lesson.

For what shall _you_ live? For what should _I_ live? I am Emperor, but my empire is doomed. I live no longer for earthly hope, but solely to do duty; nothing but duty, stern duty, painful every instant, crushing always, but a burden heaven imposed on a breaking heart. That heaven appoints it--that, and that alone--makes me willing to live and do it.

When the time comes I shall seek death where the slain lie the thickest. But not to-day; for to-day I can serve. Live for duty! Live for G.o.d! The days may not be many before we shall clasp hands with those who, now invisible, are looking upon us. Let us go and cheer the living before we seek the companionship of the dead."

As the Emperor spoke, his face glowed with a majesty of soul which made the symbol of earthly majesty that adorned his brow seem poor indeed.

Gazing a moment with reverent amazement at the man who had already received the divine anointing for the sacrifice of martyrdom he was so soon to offer, Morsinia responded:

"Your words, Sire, come to me as from the lips of G.o.d. I will go and pray, and then--then I shall live for duty."

FOOTNOTES:

[77] The Panurgia, a name given to the Holy Virgin, who at a former siege of Constantinople, in 1422, was imagined to have appeared upon the wall for its defense.

CHAPTER XL.

Mahomet had not expended all his petulant rage upon feelingless waves and distant Christians. He summoned to his presence the Admiral of his defeated fleet, Baltaoghli, and ordered that he should be impaled.

The Admiral had shown as much naval skill as could, perhaps, have been exhibited with the unwieldy boats at his command; and, moreover, had brought from the fight an eyeless socket to attest his bravery and devotion. The penalty, therefore, which Mahomet attached to his misfortune, brought cries of entreaty in his behalf from other brave officers, especially from the leading Janizaries. This opposition at first confirmed the determination of the irate despot. But soon the pet.i.tion of the honored corps swelled into a murmur, which the more experienced of his advisers persuaded Mahomet to heed.

The Sultan had schooled himself to obey the precept which Yusef, the eunuch, who instructed his childhood, had imparted, viz, "Make pa.s.sion bend to policy." He therefore apparently yielded, so far at least as to compromise with those whom he feared to offend, and commuted the Admiral's sentence to a flogging.

The brave man was stretched upon the ground by four slaves. Turning to Captain Ballaban, the Sultan bade him lay on the lash. Ballaban hesitated. Drawing near to Mahomet, he said respectfully, but firmly,

"The Janizaries are soldiers, not executioners, Sire."

Mahomet's rage burst as suddenly as powder under the spark.

"Away with the rebel!" cried he. "We will find the executioner for him, too, who dares to disobey our orders."

Seizing his golden mace, the Sultan himself beat the prostrate form of the Admiral until it was senseless.

Wearying of his b.l.o.o.d.y work, Mahomet glared like a half satiated beast upon those about him.

"Where is the d.a.m.ned rebel who dares dispute my will? Did no one arrest him?"

"The order was not so understood," said an Aga who was near.

"You understand it now," growled the infuriated, yet half-ashamed, monarch. "Arrest him!--But no! Let these slaves go search for the runaway. It shall be their office to deal with one who dares to break with my will."

The Janizaries returned to their places near the walls.

Mahomet was ill at ease when his better judgment displaced his unwise pa.s.sion. His love for Ballaban, the manliness of the captain's reply to the unreasonable order, and the danger of injuring one who stood so high in the estimate of the entire Janizary corps, were not outweighed even by the sense of the indignity which the act of disobedience had put upon the royal authority.

The slaves, not daring to venture among the Janizaries in their search for Captain Ballaban, easily persuaded themselves that he must have fled; and that, perhaps, he might be lurking somewhere on the sh.o.r.e, as this was the only way of escape. Their search was rewarded. Though in the disguise of scant garments, utterly exhausted so that he could make no resistance, their victim was readily recognized by his form and features, which were too peculiar to be mistaken. The captain had apparently attempted to escape by water; perhaps, had ventured upon some chance kaik or raft, and been wrecked in the caldron which the strong south wind made with the current pouring from the north.

His wet garments, such as he had not stripped off, and his exhausted look confirmed their theory.

One of their number brought the report to the Grand Vizier, Kalil, who repeated it to the Sultan.

"I will deal with him in person. Let no one know of the capture until I have seen him," said Mahomet, seeking an opportunity to revoke the threat against his friend, which he had uttered in insane rage; and, at the same time, to cover his imperial dignity by the semblance of a trial.

The culprit was brought in the early evening to the Sultan's tent. A large lantern of various colored crystals hung from the ridge-pole, and threw its beautiful, but partly obscured, light over the arraigned man.

His captors had clothed him in the uniform of the Janizaries.

"His face has a strange look, as if another's soul had taken lodging behind the familiar lineaments," the Sultan remarked to Kalil as he scanned the culprit closely.

"Do you know, knave, in whose presence you are?" said Mahomet, sternly.

"I know not, Sire, except that the excellent adornment of your person and pavilion suggest that I am in the presence of his majesty the--"

"Silence, villain! do you mock me?" cried the Padishah, in surprise at the man's a.s.sumed ignorance.

"I mock thee not, Sire," said the victim, bowing with courtly reverence, and speaking in a sort of patois of Greek and Turkish. "But I was about to say that I know thee not, except that from the excellence of thy person and estate thou art none less"----

"Silence, you dog! This is no time for your familiar jesting, Ballaban. Speak pure tongue, or I'll cut thine from thy head!"

interrupted the Padishah.

"I speak as best I can," replied the man, "for I was not brought up to the Turkish tongue. I presume that I address the king of the Turks."

"Miserable wretch!" hissed his majesty, drawing his jewelled sword.

"Dare you call me king of the _Turks_? TURKS! thou circ.u.mcised Christian dog! thou pup of Nazarene parentage! thou d.a.m.ned infidel, beplastered with Moslem favors!"[78]

"It would seem that I needed Moslem favors, which in my dest.i.tute condition and imminent danger, I most humbly crave," replied the object of this contumely.

"Are you mad?" shrieked the Sultan, rising and glaring into the other's face. "You _are_ mad, man. Poor soul! Ay! Ay! I see it now.

Some demon has possessed you. Some witch has blown on the knots against you."[79]