"Lo! here is the treaty," said the Mufti, pointing to the doc.u.ment, "from which, by the command of Allah, I will now wash off the writing."
Thereupon he drew across the doc.u.ment a large brush which he had previously dipped into a large basin of water in which sundry chemicals had been dissolved, and suddenly the writing began to fade away, the Sultan"s name written in red letters disappeared instantly from the parchment, then the lines written in black ink visibly grew dimmer. The Kaiser"s name written in bright green letters resisted more obstinately, but at last these also vanished utterly, and nothing more remained on the white parchment but the name of G.o.d written in letters of gold--the corrosive acid was powerless against that.
Deep silence prevailed in the Divan, every eye was fixed with pious attention on the bleaching script.
Then, seizing a drawn sword, the Mufti raised it aloft and said:
"Having wiped away the writing which cast dishonour on the name of Allah, I now cut this doc.u.ment in four pieces with the point of my sword."
And speaking thus, and while the imam stretched the parchment out with both hands, the Mufti cut it into four pieces with the sword he held in his hand, and placing the fragments in a pan, filled it up with naptha from a little crystal flask.
"Lo! now I burn thee before the face of Allah!"
Then he pa.s.sed an ignited wax taper over the pan, whereupon the naptha instantly burst into flame, and the fragments of the torn doc.u.ment were hidden by the blue fire and the white smoke. Presently the flame turned to red, the smoke subsided, and the parchment was burnt to ashes.
"And now I scatter thy ashes that thou mayst be dispersed to nothing,"
said the Mufti; and, taking the ashes, he flung them out of the palace window. The burnt paper rags, like black b.u.t.terflies, descended gently through the air and were cast by the wind into the Bosphorus below.
No sooner was this accomplished than the pashas and viziers all leaped from their seats and drew their swords, swearing with great enthusiasm by the beard of the Prophet that they would not return their weapons to their sheaths till the crescent should shine on the top of the tower of the Church of St. Stephen at Vienna.
At that moment the door-curtains were thrust aside, and into the Divan rushed--Feriz Beg.
The face of the youth was scarce recognisable, his turban was awry upon his forehead, his eyes, full of dull melancholy, stared stonily in front of him, his dress was untidy and dishevelled, his sword was girded to his side, but its handle was broken. n.o.body had prevented him from rushing through the numerous halls into the Divan, and when he entered the ulemas parted before him in holy horror. When the youth reached the middle of the room, he stood there glancing round upon the viziers with folded arms, just as if he were counting how many of them there were, one by one they all stood up before him--nay, even the Sultan did so, and awaited his words tremblingly.
Everyone in the East regards the insane with awe and reverence, and if a crazy fakir were to stop the greatest of the Caliphs in the way and say to him: "Dismount from thy horse, and change garments with me," he would not dare to offer any opposition, but would fulfil his desire, for a strange spirit is in the man and G.o.d has sent it.
How will it be then when the terrible spirit of madness descends upon such a valiant warrior, such a distinguished soldier as Feriz Beg, who, when only six-and-twenty, had fought a hundred triumphant battles, and frequently put to shame the grey beards with his wisdom. And lo!
suddenly he goes mad, and stops people in the street, and speaks such words of terror to them that they cannot sleep after it.
The youth, with quiet, gentle eyes and a sorrowful countenance pa.s.ses in review the faces of all who are present, and heartrending was the expression of deep unutterable anguish in his voice when he spoke.
"Pardon me, high and mighty lords, for appearing among you without an invitation--I who have now no business at all in the world anywhere. The world in which I lived is dead, it has withdrawn to Heaven far from me; all those who possessed my heart are now high above my head, and now, I have no heart and no feeling: neither love, nor valour, nor the desire of fame and glory; in my veins the blood flows backwards and forwards so that oftentimes I rush roaring against the walls round about me and tear carpets and pillows which have never offended me; and now again the blood stands still within me, my arteries do not beat at all, so that I lie stiff and staring like a dead man. I beg you all, ye high and mighty lords, who in a brief time will go to Paradise, to take a message from me thither."
The high lords listened horror-stricken to the calm way in which the youth uttered these words, and they saw each other"s faces growing pale.
Feriz paid no attention to their horrified expressions.
"Tell to them whom I love, and with whom my heart is, to give me back my heart, for without it I am very poor. I perceive not the fragrance of the rose, wine is not sweet to my lips, neither fire nor the rays of the sun have any warmth, and the note of the bugle-horn and the neighing of my charger find no response in me. High and mighty lords, tell this to those who are above if I myself go not thither shortly."
There were present, besides Mustafa, Rezlan Pasha, Ajas Beg, Rifat Aga, Kara Ogli the Kapudan Pasha, and many more who promised themselves a long life.
The Grand Seignior had always made a particular favourite of Feriz, and he now addressed him in a gentle, fatherly voice.
"My dear son, go back home; my viziers are preparing to subdue the world with unconquerable armies. Go with them, in the din of battle thou wilt find again thy heroic heart and be cured of thy sickness."
An extraordinary smile pa.s.sed across the face of Feriz, he waved aside the idea with his hand and bent his head forwards, which is a way the Turks have of expressing decided negation.
"This war cannot be a triumphant war, for men are the cause thereof.
Allah will bring it to nought. Ye draw the sword at the invitation of murderers, deceivers, and traitors. I have broken the hilt of my own sword in order that I may not draw it forth. They have killed those whom I love, how can I fight in that army which was formed for them who were the occasion of the ruin of my beloved?"
At this thought the blood flew to the youth"s face, the spirit of madness flamed up in his eyes, he rose to his full height before the Sultan, and he cried with a loud, audacious voice:
"Thou wilt lose the war for which thou dost now prepare, for thy viziers are incapable, thy soldiers are cowards, thy allies are traitors, thy wise men are fools, thy priests are hypocrites, and thou thyself art an oath-breaker."
Then, as if he were suddenly sorry of what he had said to the Sultan, he bent humbly over him and taking hold of the edge of his garment raised it up and kissed it--and then, regarding him with genuine sympathy, murmured softly:
"Poor Sultan!--so young, so young--and yet thou must die."
And thereupon, with hanging head, he turned away and prepared to go out.
None stayed him.
On reaching the door, he fumbled for his sword, and perceiving when he touched it that the hilt was missing, he suddenly turned back again, and exclaimed in a low whisper:
"Think not that it will rust in its sheath. The time will come when I shall again draw it, and it will drink its fill of blood. When those who now urge us on to war shall turn against us, when those who now stand in line with us shall face us with hostile banners, then also will I return, though then ye will no longer be present. But ye shall look on from Paradise above. So it will be: ye shall look on ... Poor young Sultan!"
Having whispered these prophetic words, the mad youth withdrew, and the gentlemen in the Divan were so much disturbed by his words that, with faces bent to the earth, they prayed Allah that He would turn aside from them the evil prophesy and not suffer to be broken asunder the weapons they had drawn for the increase of His glory.
CHAPTER XXIX.
PLEASANT SURPRISES.
All the chief generals, all the border pashas, had received the Sultan"s orders to gather their hosts together and lead them against the armies of the King of the Romans, and besiege the places which were the pretext of the rupture--to wit, the fortresses of Fulek, Boszormeny, and Nagy Kalla.
At the same time the Government of Transylvania also received permission to attack Hungary with its armies, as had already been decided at the Diet of Szamosujvar.
Vast preparations were everywhere made. The Magyar race is very hard to move to war, but once in a quarrel it does not waste very much time in splitting straws.
Teleki, too, had attained at last to the dream of his life and the object of all his endeavours, for which he had knowingly sacrificed his own peace of mind, and the lives of so many good patriots--he was the generalissimo of the armies of Transylvania.
The Hungarian exiles in Transylvania hailed him as their deliverer, and he saw himself a good big step nearer to the place of Esterhazy--the place of Palatine of Hungary. And why not? Why should he not stand among the foremost statesmen of his age?
All the way to the camp at Fulek he was the object of flattery and congratulation; the Hungarians gathered in troops beneath his banner, colonels and captains belauded him. As for the worthy Prince, he did not show himself at all, but sat in his tent and read his books, and when he felt tired he took his watch to pieces and put it together again.
At Fulek the Transylvanian army joined the camp of Kara Mustafa.
Teleki dressed up the Prince in his best robes, and trotted with him and his suite to the tent of the Grand Vizier with growing pride when he heard the guards blow their trumpets at their approach, and the Grand Vizier as a special favour admitted them straightway to his presence, allowed them to kiss his hand, made the magnates sit down, and praised them for their zeal and fidelity, giving each of them a new caftan; and when they were thus nicely tricked out, he dismissed them with an escort of an aga, a dragoman, and twelve cava.s.ses to see the whole Turkish camp to their hearts" content.
Teleki regarded this permission as a very good omen. Turkish generals are wont to be very sensitive on this point, and it is a great favour on their part when they allow foreigners to view their camps.
The dragoman took the Hungarian gentlemen everywhere. He told them which aga was encamped on this hill and which on that, how many soldiers made up a squadron of horse, and how many guns, and how many lances were in every company. He pointed out to them the long pavilion made of deal boards in which the gunpowder lay in big heaps, and gigantic cannon b.a.l.l.s were piled up into pyramids, and round mortars covered with pitchy cloths, and gigantic culverines, and siege-guns, and iron howitzers lay on wooden rollers. The acc.u.mulated war material would have sufficed for the conquest of the world.
The gentlemen sightseers returned to their tents with the utmost satisfaction, and, overjoyed at what he had seen, the Prince gave a great banquet, to which all the Hungarian gentlemen in his army were also invited. The tables were placed beneath a quickly-improvised baldachin; and at the end of an excellent dinner the n.o.ble feasters began to make merry, everyone at length saw his long-deferred hopes on the point of fulfilment, and none more so than Michael Teleki.
One toast followed another, and the healths of the Prince and of Teleki were interwoven with the healths of everyone else present, so that worthy Apafi began to think that it would really be a very good thing if he were King of Hungary, while Teleki held his head as high as if he were already sitting in the seat of the Palatine.