"Nay, nay, my son, be sensible!" said Janaki. He himself now began to feel that there was something more than a mere tale in all this.
But the Berber-Bashi p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and grew terribly attentive when mention was made of the hidden treasures of the Grand Vizier.
"The sight of the treasures," resumed the girl, "had no effect upon Irene. She never failed to invoke the name of the Blessed Virgin whenever the face of a man drew near to her face, and the Blessed Virgin always wrought a miracle in her behalf."
""Tis my belief," said Halil, "that there were no miracles at all in the matter; but that the girl had so strong a will that by an effort she made herself dead to all tortures."
"At last they came to a definite decision concerning this slave-girl, it was resolved to sell her by public auction in the bazaars--to sell her as a common slave to the highest bidder. And so Irene fell to a poor hawker who gave his all for her. For a whole month this man left his slave-girl untouched, and the girl who could not be subdued by torture, nor the blandishments of great men, nor by treasures, nor by ardent desire, became very fond of the poor costermonger, and no longer became as one dead when _his_ burning lips were impressed upon her face."
And with that Gul-Bejaze embraced her husband and kissed him again and again, and smiled upon him with her large radiant eyes.
"A very pretty story truly!" observed Musli, smacking his lips; "what a pity there is not more of it!"
"Oh, no regrets, worthy Mussulman, there _is_ more of it!" cried the Berber-Bashi, rising from his place; "just listen to the sequel of it!
Having had the girl sold by auction in the bazaar, the Padishah bade Ali Kermesh, his trusty Berber-Bashi, make inquiries and see what happened to the damsel _after_ the sale. Now the Berber-Bashi knew that the girl had only pretended to faint, and the Berber-Bashi brought the girl back to the Seraglio before she had spent a single night alone with her husband. For I am the Berber-Bashi and thou art Gul-Bejaze, that same slave-girl going by the name of Irene who feigned to be dead."
Everyone present leaped in terror to his feet except Janaki, who fell down on his knees before the Berber-Bashi, embraced his knees, and implored him to treat all that the girl had said as if he had not heard it.
"We are lost!" whispered the bloodless Gul-Bejaze. The intoxication of joy and wine had suddenly left her and she was sober once more.
Janaki implored, Musli cursed and swore, but Halil spake never a word.
He held his wife tightly embraced in his arms and he thought within himself, I would rather allow my hand to be chopped off than let her go.
Janaki promised money and loads of treasure to Ali Kermesh if only he would hold his tongue, say nothing of what had happened, and let the girl remain with her husband.
But the Berber-Bashi was inexorable.
"No," said he, "I will take away the girl, and your treasures also shall be mine. Ye are the children of Death; yea, all of you who are now drawing the breath of life in this house, for to have heard the secret that this slave-girl has blabbed out is sufficient to kill anyone thrice over. I command you, Irene, to take up your veil and follow me, and you others must remain here till the Debedzik with the cord comes to fetch you also."
With these words he cast Janaki from him, approached the damsel and seized her hand. Halil never once relaxed his embrace.
"Come with me!"
"Blessed Mary! Blessed Mary!" moaned the girl.
"Your guardian saints are powerless to help you now, for your husband"s lips have touched you; come with me!"
Then only did Halil speak. His voice was so deep, gruff, and stern, that those who heard it scarce recognised it for his:
"Leave go of my wife, Ali Kermesh!" cried he.
"Silence thou dog! in another hour thou wilt be hanging up before thine own gate."
"Once more I ask you--leave go of my wife, Ali Kermesh!"
Instead of answering, the Berber-Bashi would, with one hand, have torn the wife from her husband"s bosom while he clutched hold of Halil with the other, whereupon Halil brought down his fist so heavily on the skull of the Berber-Bashi that he instantly collapsed without uttering a single word.
"What have you done?" cried Janaki in terror. "You have killed the chief barber of the Sultan!"
"Yes, I rather fancy I have," replied Halil coolly.
Musli rushed towards the prostrate form of Ali Kermesh, felt him all over very carefully, and then turned towards the hearth where the others were sitting.
"Dead he is, there is no doubt about it. He"s as dead as a door-nail.
Well, Halil, that was a fine blow of yours I must say. By the Prophet!
one does not see a blow like that every day. With your bare hand too! To kill a man with nothing but your empty fist! If a cannon-ball had knocked him over he could not be deader than he is."
"But what shall we do now?" cried Janaki, looking around him with tremulous terror. "The Sultan is sure to send and make inquiries about his lost Berber-Bashi. It is known that he came here in disguise. The affair cannot long remain hidden."
"There is no occasion to fear anything," said Musli rea.s.suringly. "Good counsel is cheap. We can easily find a way out of it. Before the business comes to light, we will go to the Etmeidan and join the Janissaries. There let them send and fetch us if they dare, for we shall be in a perfectly safe place anyhow. Why, don"t you remember that only last year the rebel, Esref Khan, whom the Padishah had been pursuing to the death, even in foreign lands, hit, at last, upon the idea of resorting to the Janissaries, and was safer against the fatal silken cord here, in the very midst of Stambul, than if he had fled all the way to the Isle of Rhodes for refuge. Let us all become Janissaries, I and you and Janaki also."
But Janaki kicked vigorously against the proposition.
"You two may go over to the Janissaries if you like, but in the meantime my daughter and I will make our escape to the Isle of Tenedos and there await tidings of you. One jar of dates I will take with me, the other you may divide among the Janissaries; it will put them in a good humour and make them receive you more amicably."
Halil embraced his wife, kissed her, and wept over her. There was not much time for leave-taking. The Debedjis who had accompanied the Berber-Bashi were beginning to grow impatient at the prolonged absence of their master; they could be heard stamping about around the door.
"Hasten, hasten! we can have too much of this hugging and kissing,"
whispered Musli, lifting one of the jars on to his shoulders.
Yet Halil pressed one more long, long kiss on Gul-Bejaze"s trembling cheek.
"By Allah!" said he, "it shall not be long before we see each other again."
And thus their ways parted right and left.
Musli conducted Janaki away in one direction, through a subterranean cellar, whilst Halil fled away across the house-tops, and within a quarter of an hour the pair of them arrived at the Etmeidan.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Woodcutter.
CHAPTER V.
THE CAMP.
What a noise, what a commotion in the streets of Stambul! The mult.i.tude pours like a stream towards the harbour of the Golden Horn. Young and old stimulate each other with looks of excitement and enthusiasm. They stand together at the corners of the streets in tens and twenties, and tell each other of the great event that has happened. On the Etmeidan, in front of the Seraglio, in the doors of the mosques, the people are swarming, and from street to street they accompany the banner-bearing Dulbendar, who proclaims to the faithful amidst the flourish of trumpets that Sultan Achmed III. has declared war against Tamasip, Shah of Persia.
Everywhere faces radiant with enthusiasm, everywhere shouts of martial fervour.
From time to time a regiment of Janissaries or a band of Albanian hors.e.m.e.n pa.s.ses across the street, or escorts the buffaloes that drag after them the long heavy guns on wheeled carriages. The mob in its thousands follows them along the road leading to Scutari, where the camp has already been pitched. For at last, at any rate, the Padishah is surfeited with so many feasts and illuminations, and after having postponed the raising of the banner of the Prophet, under all sorts of frivolous excuses, from the 18th day of Safer (2nd of September) to the 1st day of Rebusler, and from that day again to the Prophet"s birthday ten days later still, the expected, the appointed day is at length drawing near, and the whole host is a.s.sembling beneath the walls of Scutari, only awaiting the arrival of the Sultan to take ship at once--the transports are all ready--and hasten to the a.s.sistance of the heroic Kuprilizade on the battlefield.
The whole Bosphorus was a living forest planted with a maze of huge masts and spreading sails, and a thousand variegated flags flew and flapped in the morning breeze. The huge line of battle-ships, with their triple decks and their long rows of oars, looked like hundred-eyed sea-monsters swimming with hundreds of legs on the surface of the water, and the booming reverberation of the thunder of their guns was re-echoed from the broad foreheads of the palaces looking into the Bosphorus.