The Lion of Janina - Part 30
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Part 30

A former pleasure-house, a kiosk on the island of La Gulia, was a.s.signed to him as a residence for the future. There they conveyed his favorite horses, his favorite slaves and birds, and took abundant care of his personal comfort.

Ali allowed them to do with him as they would. Neither threatening nor pleasant faces made any impression upon him; he merely looked from time to time at his wife, who had seized his hand, and never left him for an instant. At such times softer, gentler feelings were legible in his face; but at other times he would gaze steadily before him into the distance, into infinity. Perhaps he was now thinking within himself, "When shall I stand in front of the Seraglio on a silver pedestal?"

The _dzhin_ of Seleucia had prophesied this termination to his career.

All the other prophecies had been strictly fulfilled; this only remained to be accomplished.

A Mussulman's promise is stronger than his oath. Who does not remember the story of the Moorish chieftain in whose house a Christian soldier had taken refuge, and who begged for his protection? The Moor promised the man his protection. Subsequently the pursuers informed the Moor that this Christian soldier had killed his son, and still the father would not give up the fugitive, but a.s.sisted him to escape, because of his promise.

"A great lord is the sea," says the Kuran; "a great lord is the storm and the pestilence; but a greater lord still is a man's given word, from which there is no escape."

The Mussulman keeps his word, but beware of a play upon words, for therein lies death. If he has sworn by the sun, avoid the moon, and if he has promised to love thee as a brother, discover first whether he hath not slain his brother.

When Sulaiman adopted Ibrahim as a son, he swore that so long as he lived no harm should befall Ibrahim. Later on, when Ibrahim fell into disgrace, the wise Ulemas discovered a text in the Kuran according to which he who sleeps is not alive, and they slew Ibrahim while Sulaiman slept.

Kurshid had given his word and a written a.s.surance that Ali should not die at the hand of the executioner; the doc.u.ment he had given to Ali's wife, his word he had given in the presence of his whole army; and he had escorted Ali Pasha with all due honor to the island kiosk, permitting him to retain his weapons and the jewelled sword with which he had won so many victories, with which he had so many times turned the tide of the battle; nay, more, they had selected fifty of Ali's own warriors, the bravest and the most faithful, to serve him as a guard of honor.

Nevertheless, a courier despatched in hot haste to Stambul announced there, from Kurshid Pasha, that the treasures of Ali Tepelenti of Janina were in his hands, and that a Tartar horseman would follow in three days with the head of the old pasha. And yet at this very moment Tepelenti's head stood firmly on his shoulders, and who would dare to say that that head was promised away while his good sword was by his side, and good comrades in arms were around him, and the sworn a.s.surance of the seraskier rested upon him?

Eminah never quitted him for a moment. She was always with him. She sat beside him, with her head on his breast, or at his feet, and in her hand she carried the amnesty of the seraskier, so that if any one should approach Ali with dangerous designs she might hold it before his eyes like a magic buckler, and ward off the axe of the executioner from his head.

But there was nothing to guard against; the executioner did not approach Ali. He received, indeed, a great many visitors, but these were all worthy, honorable men, musirs, effendis, officers of the army, who treated him with all respect, and sipped their sherbet-cups most politely, and smoked their fragrant chibooks, exchanging a word or two now and then, perhaps, and on taking their leave saluted him in a manner befitting grave Mussulmans.

He was allowed free access to every part of the island, and never encountered anybody there but his own warriors.

At such times great ideas would occur to him. Perchance with these fifty men he might win back everything once more? And then he would hug himself with the thought of the silver pedestal in front of the Seraglio, where he was one day to stand, amidst the joyful plaudits of the people; and then the night before him was not altogether dark, for here and there he saw a gleam of hope.

It was only Eminah who trembled. G.o.d has created woman for this very purpose; she has the faculty of fearing instead of man, and can foresee the danger that threatens him.

Whence will this danger come, and in what shape? Perchance in the dagger of the a.s.sa.s.sin? The woman's bosom stood between it and the heart of Ali; the a.s.sa.s.sin will not be able to pierce it. In a poisoned cup, perhaps? Eminah herself tastes of every dish, of every gla.s.s, before they reach the hands of Ali; the power of the poison would reach her first.

And yet danger is near.

One day they told Ali that an ill.u.s.trious visitor was coming to see him; Mehemet Pasha, the sub-seraskier and governor of the Morea, wished to pay his respects to him.

This was a great honor for the fallen general. Ali began to be sensible that even his enemies respected him. Who knows? he might find good friends amongst his very enemies, who would not think him too old for use and employment even in his last remaining years.

On the day of the visit, the kiosk was swept and garnished. Tepelenti put on his most costly caftan, his warriors were marshalled in front of his dwelling, and he himself went out on horseback to meet the seraskier when he arrived, with an escort of one hundred mounted spahis.

Mehemet Pasha was a tall, powerful man, the hero of many a fight and many a duel. He had often given proof of his dexterity, when the hostile armies stood face to face, by galloping betwixt them and challenging the bravest warriors on the other side to single combat, and the fact that he was alive at the present moment was the best possible proof that he had been always victorious.

The two heroes exchanged greetings when they met, and returned together to the pleasure-house. Ali conducted the sub-seraskier into the inner apartments; the attendants remained outside.

A richly spread table awaited them, and they were waited upon by a group of young odalisks, the hand-maidens of Eminah, who sat at Ali's feet on the left-hand side, and, as usual, tasted of every dish and cup before she gave it to Ali.

Pleasant conversation filled the intervals of the repast, and at the end of it a mess of preserved pistachios was brought in and presented to Mehemet Pasha.

"I thank thee," said he, "and, indeed, I am very fond of them, but piquant, hot-spiced meats always awaken within me sinful desires and a longing for wine which is forbidden by the Prophet, and, as a good Mussulman, I would rather avoid the occasion of sinning than suffer the affliction of a late repentance."

Ali laughed aloud.

"Eat and be of good cheer, valiant seraskier," said he, "and set thy mind at rest. What I give thee shall be wine and yet not wine--the juice of the grape, yet still unfermented; 'tis an invention of the Franks. This the Prophet does not forbid.[12] I have still got a case of bottles thereof, which Bunaberdi[13] formerly sent me, and we will now break it open in thy honor. Truly fizz is not wine, but only the juice of the grape which they bottle before it becomes wine. It is as harmless as milk."

[Footnote 12: The Moslems do not include French "fizz" amongst the canonically forbidden drinks.]

[Footnote 13: Bonaparte.]

Mehemet shook his head and laughed, from which one could see that the proposition was not displeasing to him, whereupon Ali beckoned to the odalisks to fetch the bottles from the cellar.

Eminah, all trembling, bent over him and whispered, imploringly, "Oh, put not wine on thy table; it will be dangerous to thee!"

Ali smiled, and stroked his wife's head. He thought that only religious scruples made her dissuade him from drinking the wine, so he drew her upon his bosom and began to rea.s.sure her.

"Say now, my one and only flower, is not Moses a prophet, like unto Muhammad?"

"Of a truth he is. His tent stands beside the tent of Muhammad in the Paradise of the true Believers."

"And yet Moses said: Give wine to them that be sorrowful! Leave the matter then to the two prophets up above there; surely, what pa.s.ses thorough our lips does not make us sin?"

But that was not the reason why Eminah feared the wine.

They brought the bottles, and the liberated corks popped merrily. At first Mehemet Pasha hesitated, but they filled his gla.s.s with fizz and, to prevent the sparkling foam from running over, he sipped a little of it, and quickly drained the gla.s.s, maintaining afterwards, with a smile, that it was a similar drink to wine, but much more pleasant.

Ali filled once more the gla.s.s of the seraskier, while Eminah tremulously watched his features, which gradually grew darker as he drank. Drink has this effect on some men.

Suddenly the sub-seraskier dashed his gla.s.s upon the table and exclaimed, with a furious expression of countenance:

"I'll drink no more! I'll drink no more! Thou art a villain, Ali! Thou hast made me drink wine and hast lied to me, saying it was not wine; but it is wine, a frightful, burning drink, which has made my head whirl."

"Come, come, Mehemet," said Ali, in the coaxing tone one uses to drunken men, "be not so wrathful."

"Speak not to me, thou dog!" thundered the other, striking the table with his fist. "I might have known when I dismounted at thy door with whom I had to do, thou sly, treacherous fox, thou G.o.dless renegade!"

Ali leaped from his seat with flashing eyes, and clapped his hand on the hilt of his sword at these words; but Eminah seized his hand, and said to him, in a terrified whisper:

"Draw not thy sword, Ali; show no weapons here! Dost thou not perceive that he only came hither to fasten a quarrel upon thee?"

Ali instantly recovered himself at these words. He saw now the snare that had been laid for him, and calmly sat down in his place again, crossing his legs beneath him, and, quietly taking up his chibook, began to smoke with an air of unconcern.

Meanwhile, Mehemet played his drunken _role_ still further.

"I might have known beforehand, when I sat down at table with thee, that I was sitting down with an accursed wretch, thou blood-thirsty dog, who hath lapped up the blood of thy kinsfolk; but I never ventured to imagine that thou wouldst be audacious enough to make me drink that abominable liquid--may its sinfulness fall back again on thine accursed head!"

With these words Mehemet caught up the half full gla.s.s and pitched all the wine that was in it straight between Ali's eyes, so that it trickled down the full length of his long white beard.

Ali, with the utmost _sang-froid_, beckoned to the attendant odalisks to place before him a bowl of fresh water, in which he washed his face and beard. He did not answer the sub-seraskier a single word.

Mehemet planted himself in front of him with a contemptuous expression.