CHAPTER XLVI.

"Peace be with thee!" said the old woman, dropping a low courtesy to the officer, as he walked near the new buildings of the seraglio.

"Peace be unto _thee_, and the mercy of G.o.d and His blessing,[97] good woman!" replied the soldier; but waving his hand, added kindly, "I have no need of your harem trumpery."

"But see this!" said she, showing the elegant case of perfumery. "This holds the essence of the flowers of paradise."

"Go along, old mother! I would have no taste for it if it contained the sweat of the houris."[98]

"But this case was made especially for you, Captain Ballaban."

"Or for any other man whose purse will buy it," replied he, moving away.

The woman followed closely, chattering into his deaf ears.

"But, could you see her that made it, you would not decline to buy, though you gave for it half the gold you found in the coffers of the rich Greeks the day your valor won the city, brave Captain; and the cost of it is but a lira;[99] and the maiden is dying of love for you."

"Then why does she not give it to me as a present? Love asks no price," said he, just turning his head.

"That she would, but for fear of offending your honor by slighting your purse," said the quick-witted woman.

"Well said, mother! I warrant that the Beyler Bey, or the n.o.ble Kaikji,[100] who made love to you never got you for nothing."

"Indeed, no! He paid the Valide Sultana ten provinces, and a bra.s.s buckle besides, to prevent her giving me to Timour; who took it so hard that he would have broken his heart, but that the grief went the wrong way and cracked his legs, and so they call him Timour-lenk. That was the reason he made war on the Ottomans. It was all out of jealousy for me," said she, making a low and mock courtesy. "But if you could see the beautiful odalisk who made this! Her form is as stately as the dome of St. Sophia."

"She's too big and squatty, if she's like that," laughed the officer.

"Her face glows in complexion like the mother of pearl," went on the enthusiastic saleswoman.

"Too hard of cheek!" sneered the other. "Even yours, Hanoum, is not so hard as mother of pearl."

"A neck like alabaster----"

"Cold! too cold! I would as soon think of making love to a gravestone," was the officer's comment.

"And such melting lips----"

"Yes, with blisters! I tell you, old Hanoum, I'm woman proof. Go away!"

"And her eyes shine through her long lashes like the stars through the fir trees on the Balkans."

"Tut! Woman, you never saw the stars shine on the Balkans. They do shine there, though, like the very eyes of Allah. A woman with such eyes would frighten the Padishah himself."

Kala Hanoum took courage at this first evidence of interest on the part of the officer, and plied her advantage.

"And her teeth are as white as the snows in the grotto of Slatiza--"

"The grotto of Slatiza? You mean some bear's cave. But the snows are white there, whiter and purer than anywhere else on earth, except as I once saw them, so red with blood, there in the Pa.s.s of Slatiza. But how know you of Slatiza, my good woman?"

"And altogether she is as fair as the bride of Sigismund of Hungary,"

said Kala, without regarding his question.

"And who was she, Hanoum?" asked the man, with curiosity fully aroused.

"Why, Elizabeth Morsiney, of course."

The officer turned fully toward the woman, and scanned closely her features as if to discover something familiar. Was there not some hint to be picked from these words?

"Hanoum, who told you to say that?"

The woman in turn studied his face before she replied. She would learn whether the allusions had excited a pleasant interest, or roused antagonism in him. It required but a moment for her to discover that Morsinia had given her some clue that the man would willingly follow, so she boldly replied:

"The odalisk herself has talked to me of these things."

"The odalisk! What is she like?" said he eagerly. "Describe her to me."

"Why, I have been describing her for this half-hour; but you would not listen. So I will go off and do my next errand."

The woman turned away, but, as she intended it should be, the officer was now in the att.i.tude of the beggar.

"Hold, Hanoum, I will buy your perfume--But tell me what she is like in plain words. Is she of light hair?"

"Ay, as if she washed it in the sunshine and dried it in the moonlight, and as glossy as the beams of both."

"Think you she belonged to Stamboul before the siege?"

"Ay, and to the great Scanderbeg before that."

The officer was bewildered and stood thinking, until Kala interrupted him.

"But you said you would buy it, Captain."

"Did I? Well, take your lira."

As the woman took the piece of money she added: "And don't forget that the odalisk said she had dreamed of you since she was a child, and that at sunset if you looked through the phials you would see her face."

"Nonsense, woman!"

"But try it, Sire, and maybe the n.o.ble Captain would send something to the beautiful odalisk?"

"Yes, when I see her in the phial I will send her myself as her slave."

The man thrust the silken case into the deep pocket of his flowing vest and went away.

Then began a struggle in Captain Ballaban. Since the capture of the fair girl by the altar of St. Sophia, he had been unable to efface the remembrance of her. She stood before him in his dreams: sometimes just falling beneath the dagger; sometimes in the splendor which he imagined to surround her in the harem; often in mute appeal to him to save her from the nameless horrors which her cry indicated that she dreaded. When waking, his mind was often distracted by thoughts of her. The presence of the Sultan lost its charm, for he had come to look upon him as her owner, and to feel himself in some way despoiled.