"Which of us twain will be there Allah only knows," said Halil.
"There, my son, you spake not well; nay, very ill hast thou spoken. It is a horrible thing when two Mussulmans revile one another. Be reconciled rather, and extend to each other the hand of fellowship! I will not allow you to fight. Both of you spoke with good intentions, and he is a criminal who will not forget personal insults when it is a question of the commonweal. Forgive one another and shake hands, I say."
And he seized the reluctant hands of both men and absolutely forced them to shake hands with each other. But he could not prevent their eyes from meeting, and though swords were denied them their glances of mutual hatred were enough to wound to the death.
After the council broke up, Halil"s enemies remained behind with the Grand Vizier. Kaplan Giraj gnashed his teeth with rage.
"Didn"t I tell you not to let him speak!" he exclaimed, "for when once he opens his mouth he turns every drawn sword against us, and drives wrath from the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of men with the glamour of his tongue."
So they had three days wherein to hatch a fresh plot.
The session of the Divan was fixed for three days later. Halil Patrona employed the interval like a man who feels that his last hour is at hand. He would have been very short-sighted not to have perceived that judgment had already been p.r.o.nounced against him, although his enemies were still doubtful how to carry it into execution.
He resigned himself to his fate as it became a pious Mussulman to do. He had only one anxiety which he would gladly have been rid of--what was to become of his wife and child.
On the evening of the last day he led Gul-Bejaze down to the sh.o.r.e of the Bosphorus as if he would take a walk with her. The woman carried her child in her arms.
Since the woman had had a child she had acquired a much braver aspect.
The gentlest animal will be audacious when it has young ones, even the dove becomes savage when it is hatching its fledgelings.
Halil put his wife into a covered boat, which was soon flying along under the impulse of his muscular arms. The child rejoiced aloud at the rocking of the boat, he fancied it was the motion of his cradle. The eyes of the woman were fixed now upon the sky and now upon the unruffled surface of the watery mirror. A star smiled down upon her wheresoever she gazed. The evening was very still.
"Knowest thou whither I am taking thee, Gul-Bejaze?" asked her husband.
"If thou wert to ask me whither thou oughtest to send me, I would say take me to some remote and peaceful valley enclosed all around by lofty mountains. Build me there a little hut by the side of a bubbling spring, and let there be a little garden in front of the little hut. Let me stroll beneath the leaves of the cedar-trees, where I may hear no other sound but the cooing of the wood-pigeon; let me pluck flowers on the banks of the purling brook, and spy upon the wild deer; let me live there and die there--live in thine arms and die in the flowering field by the side of the purling brook. If thou wert to ask me, whither shall I take thee, so would I answer."
"Thou hast said it," replied Halil, shipping the oars, for the rising evening breeze had stiffened out the sail and the little boat was flying along of its own accord; then he sat him down beside his wife and continued, "I am indeed sending thee to a remote and hidden valley, where a little hut stands on the banks of a purling stream. I have prepared it for thee, and there shalt thou dwell with thy child."
"And thou thyself?"
"I will guide thee to the opposite sh.o.r.e, there an old family servant of thy father"s awaits thee with saddled mules. He loves thee dearly, and will bring thee into that quiet valley and he must never leave thee."
"And thou?"
"This little coffer thou wilt take with thee; it contains money which I got from thy father; no curse, no blood is upon it, it shall be thine and thy children"s."
"And thou?" inquired Gul-Bejaze for the third time, and she was very near to bursting into tears.
"I shall have to return to Stambul. But I will come after thee. Perhaps to-morrow, perhaps the day after to-morrow, perhaps later still. It may be very much sooner, it may be much later. But thou wait for me. Every evening spread the table for me, for thou knowest not when I may arrive."
The tears of Gul-Bejaze began to fall upon the child she held to her breast.
"Why weepest thou?" asked Halil. ""Tis foolish of thee. Leave-taking is short, suspense only is long. It will be better with thee than with me, for thou wilt have the child while I shall have nothing left, yet I do not weep because we shall so soon meet again."
Meanwhile they had reached the sh.o.r.e, the old servant was awaiting them with the two mules. Halil helped his wife to descend from the boat.
Gul-Bejaze buried her head in her husband"s bosom and tenderly embraced him.
"Go not back, leave me not alone," said she; "do not leave us, come with us. What dost thou seek in that big desolate city when we are no longer there? Come with us, let us all go together, vanish with us. Let them search for thee, and may their search be as vain as the search for a star fallen from Heaven; it is not good for thee to be in high places."
Halil made no reply. His wife spoke the truth, but pride prevented him from escaping like a coward when he knew that his enemies were conspiring against him. Presently he said to Gul-Bejaze with a rea.s.suring voice:
"Do not be anxious on my account, I have a talisman with me. Why dost thou smile? Thou a Christian woman dost not believe in talismans? My talisman is my heart, surely thou believest in it now? It has always helped me hitherto."
And with that Halil kissed his wife and his child and returned to the boat. He seized the oars in his powerful hands and was soon some distance from the sh.o.r.e. And as he rowed further and further away into the gloom of evening he saw his abandoned wife still standing on the sh.o.r.e with her child clasped to her breast, and the further he receded the keener grew his anguish of heart because he durst not turn back to them and kiss and embrace them once more.
Early in the morning the gigantic Halil Pelivan, accompanied by twelve bostanjis, appeared among the Janissaries with three a.s.ses laden with five little panniers, containing five thousand ducats which he emptied upon the ground and distributed among the brave fellows.
"The Grand Vizier sends you this, my worthy comrades," cried he.
This was the only way of talking sense to the Janissaries.
"And now I have to ask something of you."
"Say on!"
"Is there among you any fellow who loves n.o.body, who would be capable of slaying his own dear father if he were commanded so to do and well paid for it, who is afraid of nothing, has no bowels of compa.s.sion, and cannot be made to falter by the words of the wise?"
In response to this challenge, hundreds and hundreds of the Janissaries stepped out of their ranks, declaring that they were just the boys to satisfy Pelivan"s demands.
Pelivan selected from amongst them two-and-thirty of the most muscular and truculent, and commanded them to follow him into the Seraglio.
Once there he conducted them into the Porcelain Chamber, made them squat down on the precious carpets, put before them quant.i.ties of the most savoury food, which they washed down with the rich wine of Cypress and the heating Muskoveto, a mysterious beverage generally reserved for the Sultan"s use, which is supposed to confer courage and virility. When they had well eaten and drunken moreover, Pelivan supplied them with as much opium as they wanted.
Shortly afterwards there came out to them the Grand Vizier, the lame Pasha, Topal Ozman, Patsmajezade, the chief Justiciary of Rumelia, the cobbler"s son, and the Tartar Khan, who patted their shoulders, tasted of their food, drank out of their goblets, and after telling them what fine brave fellows they were, discreetly withdrew.
The Divan meanwhile had a.s.sembled in the Hall of Lions.
There were gathered together the Ulemas, the Viziers, and the representatives of the people. Halil Patrona was there also; and presently Kabakulak, Topal Ozman, Patsmajezade, and Kaplan Giraj arrived likewise and took their places.
The Grand Vizier turned first of all to Halil, whom he addressed with benign condescension.
"The Padishah a.s.sures thee through me of his grace and favour, and of his own good pleasure appoints thee Beglerbeg of Rumelia."
And with that a couple of dulbendars advanced with the costly kaftan of invest.i.ture.
Halil Patrona reflected for an instant.
The Sultan indeed had always been gracious towards him. He evidently wanted to favour him with an honourable way of retreat. He was offering him a high dignity whereby he might be able to withdraw from the capital, and yet at the same time gratify his ambition. The Sultan really had a kindly heart then. He rewards the man whom his ministers would punish as a malefactor.
But his hesitation only lasted for a moment. Then he recovered himself and resolutely answered:
"I will not accept that kaftan. For myself I ask nothing. I did not come here to receive high office, I came to hear war proclaimed."
The Grand Vizier bowed down before him.