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The Prince of India; Or, Why Constantinople Fell — Volume 02

by Lew Wallace · English · Gutenberg #6849 · 920,152 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Prince of India; Or, Why Constantinople Fell — Volume 02

Author: Lew Wallace


        
Release date: November 1, 2004 [eBook #6849]
                Most recently updated: March 14, 2014

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF INDIA; OR, WHY CONSTANTINOPLE FELL — VOLUME 02 ***




Produced by Anne Soulard, Naomi Parkhurst, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. HTML version
by Al Haines.










THE PRINCE OF INDIA

OR

WHY CONSTANTINOPLE FELL


BY LEW. WALLACE



VOL. II.




   _Rise, too, ye Shapes and Shadows of the Past
    Rise from your long forgotten grazes at last
    Let us behold your faces, let us hear
    The words you uttered in those days of fear
    Revisit your familiar haunts again
    The scenes of triumph and the scenes of pain
    And leave the footprints of your bleeding feet
    Once more upon the pavement of the street_
                                       LONGFELLOW




CONTENTS


BOOK IV

THE PALACE OF BLACHERNE (_Continued_)

CHAPTER

    XI. THE PRINCESS HEARS FROM THE WORLD
   XII. LAEL TELLS OF HER TWO FATHERS
  XIII. THE HAMARI TURNS BOATMAN
   XIV. THE PRINCESS HAS A CREED
    XV. THE PRINCE OF INDIA PREACHES GOD TO THE GREEKS
   XVI. HOW THE NEW FAITH WAS RECEIVED
  XVII. LAEL AND THE SWORD OF SOLOMON
 XVIII. THE FESTIVAL OF FLOWERS
   XIX. THE PRINCE BUILDS CASTLES FOR HIS GUL BAHAR
    XX. THE SILHOUETTE OF A CRIME
   XXI. SERGIUS LEARNS A NEW LESSON
  XXII. THE PRINCE OF INDIA SEEKS MAHOMMED
 XXIII. SERGIUS AND NILO TAKE UP THE HUNT
  XXIV. THE IMPERIAL CISTERN GIVES UP ITS SECRET


BOOK V

MIRZA

     I. A COLD WIND FROM ADRIANOPLE
    II. A FIRE FROM THE HEGUMEN'S TOMB
   III. MIRZA DOES AN ERRAND FOR MAHOMMED
    IV. THE EMIR IN ITALY
     V. THE PRINCESS IRENE IN TOWN
    VI. COUNT CORTI IN SANCTA SOPHIA
   VII. COUNT CORTI TO MAHOMMED
  VIII. OUR LORD'S CREED
    IX. COUNT CORTI TO MAHOMMED
     X. SERGIUS TO THE LION


BOOK VI

CONSTANTINE

     I. THE SWORD OF SOLOMON
    II. MAHOMMED AND COUNT CORTI MAKE A WAGER
   III. THE BLOODY HARVEST
    IV. EUROPE ANSWERS THE CRY FOR HELP
     V. COUNT CORTI RECEIVES A FAVOR
    VI. MAHOMMED AT THE GATE ST. ROMAIN
   VII. THE GREAT GUN SPEAKS
  VIII. MAHOMMED TRIES HIS GUNS AGAIN
    IX. THE MADONNA TO THE RESCUE
     X. THE NIGHT BEFORE THE ASSAULT
    XI. COUNT CORTI IN DILEMMA
   XII. THE ASSAULT
  XIII. MAHOMMED IN SANCTA SOPHIA




BOOK IV

THE PALACE OF BLACHERNE (_Continued_)


CHAPTER XI

THE PRINCESS HEARS FROM THE WORLD


The sun shone clear and hot, and the guests in the garden were glad to
rest in the shaded places of promenade along the brooksides and under
the beeches and soaring pines of the avenues. Far up the extended
hollow there was a basin first to receive the water from the conduit
supposed to tap the aqueduct leading down from the forest of Belgrade.
The noise of the little cataract there was strong enough to draw a
quota of visitors. From the front gate to the basin, from the basin to
the summit of the promontory, the company in lingering groups amused
each other detailing what of fortune good and bad the year had brought
them. The main features of such meetings are always alike. There were
games by the children, lovers in retired places, and old people plying
each other with reminiscences. The faculty of enjoyment changes but
never expires.

An array of men chosen for the purpose sallied from the basement of the
palace carrying baskets of bread, fruits in season, and wine of the
country in water-skins. Dispersing themselves through the garden, they
waited on the guests, and made distribution without stint or
discrimination. The heartiness of their welcome may be imagined; while
the thoughtful reader will see in the liberality thus characterizing
her hospitality one of the secrets of the Princess's popularity with
the poor along the Bosphorus. Nor that merely. A little reflection will
lead up to an explanation of her preference for the Homeric residence
by Therapia. The commonalty, especially the unfortunate amongst them,
were a kind of constituency of hers, and she loved living where she
could most readily communicate with them.

This was the hour she chose to go out and personally visit her guests.
Descending from the portico, she led her household attendants into the
garden. She alone appeared unveiled. The happiness of the many amongst
whom she immediately stepped touched every spring of enjoyment in her
being; her eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy, her spirit high; in a
word, the beauty so peculiarly hers, and which no one could look on
without consciousness of its influence, shone with singular enhancement.

News that she was in the garden spread rapidly, and where she went
everyone arose and remained standing. Now and then, while making
acknowledgments to groups along the way, she recognized acquaintances,
and for such, whether men or women, she had a smile, sometimes a word.
Upon her passing, they pursued with benisons, "God bless you!" "May the
Holy Mother keep her!" Not unfrequently children ran flinging flowers
at her feet, and mothers knelt and begged her blessing. They had lively
recollection of a sickness or other overtaking by sorrow, and of her
boat drawing to the landing laden with delicacies, and bringing what
was quite as welcome, the charm of her presence, with words inspiring
hope and trust. The vast, vociferous, premeditated Roman ovation,
sonorously the Triumph, never brought a Consular hero the satisfaction
this Christian woman now derived.

She was aware of the admiration which went with her, and the sensation
was of walking through a purer and brighter sunshine. Nor did she
affect to put aside the triumph there certainly was in the
demonstration; but she accounted it the due of charity--a triumph of
good work done for the pleasure there was in the doing.

At the basin mentioned as the landward terminus of the garden the
progress in that direction stopped. Thence, after gracious attentions
to the women and children there, the Princess set out for the summit of
the promontory. The road taken was broad and smooth, and on the left
hand lined from bottom to top with pine trees, some of which are yet
standing.

The summit had been a place of interest time out of mind. From its
woody cover, the first inhabitants beheld the Argonauts anchor off the
town of Amycus, king of the Bebryces; there the vengeful Medea
practised her incantations; and descending to acknowledged history, it
were long telling the notable events of the ages landmarked by the
hoary height. When the builder of the palace below threw his scheme of
improvement over the brow of the hill, he constructed water basins on
different levels, surrounding them with raised walls artistically
sculptured; between the basins he pitched marble pavilions, looking in
the distance like airy domes on a Cyclopean temple; then he drew the
work together by a tesselated pavement identical with the floor of the
house of Caesar hard by the Forum in Rome.

Giving little heed to the other guests in occupancy of the summit, the
attendants of the Princess broke into parties sight seeing; while she
called Sergius to her, and conducted him to a point commanding the
Bosphorus for leagues. A favorite lookout, in fact, the spot had been
provided with a pavement and a capacious chair cut from a block of the
coarse brown limestone native to the locality. There she took seat, and
the ascent, though all in shade, having been wearisome, she was glad of
the blowing of the fresh upper air.

From a place in the rear Sergius had witnessed the progress to the
present halt. Every incident and demonstration had been in his view and
hearing. The expressions of affection showered upon the Princess were
delightful to him; they seemed so spontaneous and genuine. As testimony
to her character in the popular estimate at least, they left nothing
doubtful. His first impression of her was confirmed. She was a woman to
whom Heaven had confided every grace and virtue. Such marvels had been
before. He had heard of them in tradition, and always in a strain to
lift those thus favored above the hardened commonplace of human life,
creatures not exactly angels, yet moving in the same atmosphere with
angels. The monasteries, even those into whose gates women are
forbidden to look, all have stories of womanly excellence which the
monks tell each other in pauses from labor in the lentil patch, and in
their cells after vesper prayers. In brief, so did Sergius' estimate of
the Princess increase that he was unaware of impropriety when, trudging
slowly after the train of attendants, he associated her with heroines
most odorous in Church and Scriptural memories; with Mothers Superior
famous for sanctity; with Saints, like Theckla and Cecilia; with the
Prophetess who was left by the wayside in the desert of Zin, and the
later seer and singer, she who had her judgment-seat under the palm
tree of Deborah.

Withal, however, the monk was uncomfortable. The words of his Hegumen
pursued him. Should he tell the Princess? Assailed by doubts, he
followed her to the lookout on the edge of the promontory.

Seating herself, she glanced over the wide field of water below; from
the vessels there, she gazed across to Asia; then up at the sky, full
to its bluest depth with the glory of day. At length she asked:

"Have you heard from Father Hilarion?"

"Not yet," Sergius replied.

"I was thinking of him," she continued. "He used to tell me of the
primitive church--the Church of the Disciples. One of his lessons
returns to me. He seems to be standing where you are. I hear his voice.
I see his countenance. I remember his words: 'The brethren while of one
faith, because the creed was too simple for division, were of two
classes, as they now are and will always be'--ay, Sergius, as they will
always be!--'But,' he said, 'it is worthy remembrance, my dear child,
unlike the present habit, the rich held their riches with the
understanding that the brethren all had shares in them. The owner was
more than owner; he was a trustee charged with the safe-keeping of his
property, and with farming it to the best advantage, that he might be
in condition to help the greatest number of the Christian brotherhood
according to their necessities.' I wondered greatly at the time, but
not now. The delight I have today confirms the Father; for it is not in
my palace and garden, nor in my gold, but in the power I derive from
them to give respite from the grind of poverty to so many less
fortunate than myself. 'The divine order was not to desist from getting
wealth'--thus the Father continued--'for Christ knew there were who,
labor as they might, could not accumulate or retain; circumstances
would be against them, or the genius might be wanting. Poor without
fault, were they to suffer, and curse God with the curse of the sick,
the cold, the naked, the hungry? Oh, no! Christ was the representative
of the Infinitely Merciful. Under his dispensation they were to be
partners of the more favored.' Who can tell, who can begin to measure
the reward there is to me in the laughter of children at play under the
trees by the brooks, and in the cheer and smiles of women whom I have
been able to draw from the unvarying routine of toil like theirs?"

There was a ship with full spread sail speeding along so close in shore
Sergius could have thrown a stone on its deck. He affected to be deeply
interested in it. The ruse did not avail him.

"What is the matter?"

Receiving no reply, she repeated the question.

"My dear friend, you are not old enough in concealment to deceive me.
You are in trouble. Come sit here.... True, I am not an authorized
confessor; yet I know the principle on which the Church defends the
confessional. Let me share your burden. Insomuch as you give me, you
shall be relieved."

It came to him then that he must speak.

"Princess," he began, striving to keep his voice firm, "you know not
what you ask."

"Is it what a woman may hear?"

A step nearer brought him on the tesselated square.

"I hesitate, Princess, because a judgment is required of me. Hear, and
help me first."

Then he proceeded rapidly:

"There is one just entered holy service. He is a member of an ancient
and honorable Brotherhood, and by reason of his inexperience,
doubtless, its obligations rest the heavier on his conscience. His
superior has declared to him how glad he would be had he a son like
him, and confiding in his loyalty, he intrusted him with gravest
secrets; amongst others, that a person well known and greatly beloved
is under watch for the highest of religious crimes. Pause now, O
Princess, and consider the obligations inseparable from the relation
and trust here disclosed.... Look then to this other circumstance. The
person accused condescended to be the friend and patron of the same
neophyte, and by vouching for him to the head of the Church, put him on
the road to favor and quick promotion. Briefly, O Princess, to which is
obligation first owing? The father superior or the patron in danger?"

The Princess replied calmly, but with feeling: "It is not a
supposition, Sergius."

Though surprised, he returned: "Without it I could not have your
decision first."

"Thou, Sergius, art the distressed neophyte."

He held his hands out to her: "Give me thy judgment."

"The Hegumen of the St. James' is the accuser."

"Be just, O Princess! To which is the obligation first owing?"

"I am the accused," she continued, in the same tone.

He would have fallen on his knees. "No, keep thy feet. A watchman may
be behind me now."

He had scarcely resumed his position before she asked, still in the
quiet searching manner: "What is the highest religious crime? Or
rather, to men in authority, like the Hegumen of your Brotherhood, what
is the highest of all crimes?"

He looked at her in mute supplication.

"I will tell you--HERESY."

Then, compassionating his suffering, she added: "My poor Sergius! I am
not upbraiding you. You are showing me your soul. I see it in its first
serious trial.... I will forget that I am the denounced, and try to
help you. Is there no principle to which we can refer the matter--no
Christian principle? The Hegumen claims silence from you; on the other
side, your conscience--I would like to say preference--impels you to
speak a word of warning for the benefit of your patroness. There, now,
we have both the dispute and the disputants. Is it not so?"

Sergius bowed his head.

"Father Hilarion once said to me: 'Daughter, I give you the ultimate
criterion of the divineness of our religion--there cannot be an
instance of human trial for which it does not furnish a rule of conduct
and consolation.' A profound saying truly! Now is it possible we have
here at last an exception? I do not seek to know on which side the
honors lie. Where are the humanities? Ideas of honor are of men
conventional. On the other hand, the humanities stand for Charity. If
thou wert the denounced, O Sergius, how wouldst thou wish to be done
by?"

Sergius' face brightened.

"We are not seeking to save a heretic--we are in search of quiet for
our consciences. So why not ask and answer further: What would befall
the Hegumen, did you tell the accused all you had from him? Would he
suffer? Is there a tribunal to sentence him? Or a prison agape for him?
Or torture in readiness? Or a King of Lions? In these respects how is
it with the friend who vouched for you to the head of the Church? Alas!"

"Enough--say no more!" Sergius cried impulsively. "Say no more. O
Princess, I will tell everything--I will save you, if I can--if not,
and the worst come, I will die with you."

Womanlike the Princess signalized her triumph with tears. At length she
asked: "Wouldst thou like to know if I am indeed a heretic?"

"Yes, for what thou art, that am I; and then"--

"The same fire in the Hippodrome may light us both out of the world."

There was a ring of prophecy in the words.

"God forbid!" he ejaculated, with a shiver.

"God's will be done, were better! ... So, if it please you," she went
on, "tell me all the Hegumen told you about me."

"Everything?" he asked doubtfully.

"Why not?"

"Part of it is too wicked for repetition."

"Yet it was an accusation."

"Yes."

"Sergius, you are no match in cunning for my enemies. They are Greeks
trained to diplomacy; you are"--she paused and half smiled--"only a
pupil of Hilarion's. See now--if they mean to kill me, how important to
invent a tale which shall rob me of sympathy, and reconcile the public
to my sacrifice. They who do much good, and no harm"--she cast a glance
at the people swarming around the pavilions--"always have friends. Such
is the law of kindness, and it never failed but once; but today a
splinter of the Cross is worth a kingdom."

"Princess, I will hold nothing back."

"And I, Sergius--God witnessing for me--will speak to each denunciation
thou givest me."

"There were two matters in the Hegumen's mind," Sergius began, but
struck with the abruptness, he added apologetically: "I pray you,
Princess, remember I speak at your insistence, and that I am not in any
sense an accuser. It may be well to say also the Hegumen returned from
last night's Mystery low in spirits, and much spent bodily, and before
speaking of you, declared he had been an active partisan of your
father's. I do not think him your personal enemy."

A mist of tears dimmed her eyes while the Princess replied: "He was my
father's friend, and I am grateful to him; but alas! that he is
naturally kind and just is now of small consequence."

"It grieves me"--

"Do not stop," she said, interrupting him.

"At the Father's bedside I received his blessing; and asked leave to be
absent a few days. 'Where?' he inquired, and I answered: 'Thou knowest
I regard the Princess Irene as my little mother. I should like to go
see her.'"

Sergius sought his auditor's face at this, and observing no sign of
objection to the familiarity, was greatly strengthened.

"The Father endeavored to persuade me not to come, and it was with that
purpose he entered upon the disclosures you ask.... 'The life the
Princess leads'--thus he commenced--'and her manners, are outside the
sanctions of society.'"

Here, from resting on her elbow, the listener sat upright, grasping the
massive arm of the chair.

"Shall I proceed, O Princess?"

"Yes."

"This place is very public"--he glanced at the people above them.

"I will hear you here."

"At your pleasure.... The Hegumen referred next to your going about
publicly unveiled. While not positively wrong, he condemned the
practice as a pernicious example; besides which there was a defiant
boldness in it, he said, tending to make you a subject of discussion
and indelicate remark."

The hand on the stony arm trembled.

"I fear, O Princess," Sergius continued, with downcast look, "that my
words are giving you pain."

"But they are not yours. Go on."

"Then the Father came to what was much more serious."

Sergius again hesitated.

"I am listening," she said.

"He termed it your persistence in keeping up the establishment here at
Therapia."

The Princess grew red and white by turns.

"He said the Turk was too near you; that unmarried and unprotected your
proper place was in some house of God on the Islands, or in the city,
where you could have the benefit of holy offices. As it was, rumor was
free to accuse you of preferring guilty freedom to marriage."

The breeze fell off that moment, leaving the Princess in the centre of
a profound hush; except for the unwonted labor of her heart, the leaves
overhead were not more still. The sight of her was too
oppressive--Sergius turned away. Presently he heard her say, as if to
herself: "I am indeed in danger. If my death were not in meditation,
the boldest of them would not dare think so foul a falsehood....
Sergius," she said.

He turned to her, but she broke off diverted by another idea. Had this
last accusation reference to the Emperor's dream of making her his
wife? Could the Emperor have published what took place between them?
Impossible!

"Sergius, did the Hegumen tell you whence this calumny had origin?"

"He laid it to rumor merely."

"Surely he disclosed some ground for it. A dignitary of his rank and
profession cannot lend himself to shaming a helpless woman without
reason or excuse."

"Except your residence at Therapia, he gave no reason."

Here she looked at Sergius, and the pain in the glance was pitiful. "My
friend, is there anything in your knowledge which might serve such a
rumor?"

"Yes," he replied, letting his eyes fall.

"What!" and she lifted her head, and opened her eyes.

He stood silent and evidently suffering.

"Poor Sergius! The punishment is yours. I am sorry for you--sorry we
entered on this subject--but it is too late to retire from it. Speak
bravely. What is it you know against me? It cannot be a crime; much I
doubt if it be a sin; my walk has been very strait and altogether in
God's view. Speak!"

"Princess," he answered, "coming down from the landing, I was stopped
by a concourse studying a brass plate nailed to the right-hand pillar
of your gate. It was inscribed, but none of them knew the import of the
inscription. The hamari came up, and at sight of it fell to saluting,
like the abject Eastern he is. The bystanders chaffered him, and he
retorted, and, amongst other things, said the brass was a safeguard
directed to all Turks, notifying them that this property, its owner,
and inmates were under protection of the Prince Mahommed. Give heed
now, I pray you, O Princess, to this other thing of the man's saying.
The notice was the Prince Mahommed's, the inscription his signature,
and the Prince himself fixed the plate on the pillar with his own hand."

Sergius paused.

"Well," she asked.

"The inferences--consider them."

"State them."

"My tongue refuses. Or if I must, O Princess, I will use the form of
accusation others are likely to have adopted. 'The Princess Irene lives
at Therapia because Prince Mahommed is her lover, and it is a
convenient place of meeting. Therefore his safeguard on her gate.'"

"No one could be bold enough to"--

"One has been bold enough."

"One?"

"The Hegumen of my Brotherhood."

The Princess was very pale.

"It is cruel--cruel!" she exclaimed. "What ought I to do?"

"Treat the safeguard as a discovery of to-day, and have it removed
while the people are all present." She looked at him searchingly. On
her forehead between the brows, he beheld a line never there before.
More surprising was the failure of self-reliance observable in her
request for counsel. Heretofore her courage and sufficiency had been
remarkable. In all dealings with him she had proved herself the
directress, quick yet decided. The change astonished him, so little was
he acquainted with the feminine nature; and in reply he spoke hastily,
hardly knowing what he had said. The words were not straightforward and
honest; they were not becoming him any more than the conduct suggested
was becoming her; they lingered in his ear, a wicked sound, and he
would have recalled them--but he hesitated.

Here a voice in fierce malediction was heard up at the pavilions,
together with a prodigious splashing of water. Laughter, clapping of
hands, and other expressions of delight succeeded.

"Go, Sergius, and see what is taking place," said the Princess.

Glad of the opportunity to terminate the painful scene, he hastened to
the reservoirs and returned.

"Your presence will restore quiet at once."

The people made way for their hostess with alacrity. The hamari, it
appeared, had just arrived from the garden. Observing Lael in the midst
of the suite of fair ladies, he advanced to her with many strange
salutations. Alarmed, she would have run away had not Joqard broken
from his master, and leaped with a roar into the water. The poor beast
seemed determined to enjoy the bath. He swam, and dived, and played
antics without number. In vain the showman, resorting to every known
language, coaxed and threatened by turns--Joqard was self-willed and
happy, and it were hard saying which appreciated his liberty most, he
or the spectators of the scene.

The Princess, for the time conquering her pain of heart, interceded for
the brute; whereupon the hamari, like a philosopher used to making the
best of surprises, joined in the sport until Joqard grew tired, and
voluntarily returned to control.




CHAPTER XII

LAEL TELLS OF HER TWO FATHERS


Word passed from the garden to the knots of people on the height: "Come
down quickly. They are making ready for the boat race." Directly the
reservoirs, the pavilions, and the tesselation about them were deserted.

The Princess Irene, with her suite, made the descent to the garden more
at leisure, knowing the regatta would wait for her. So it happened she
was at length in charge of what seemed a rear guard; but how it befell
that Sergius and Lael drew together, the very last of that rear guard,
is not of such easy explanation.

Whether by accident or mutual seeking, side by side the two moved
slowly down the hill, one moment in the shade of the kingly pines, then
in the glowing sunshine. The noises of the celebration, the shouting,
singing, calling, and merry outcries of children ascended to them, and
through the verdurousness below, lucent as a lake, gleams of color
flashed from scarfs, mantles, embroidered jackets, and flaming
petticoats.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself," he said to Lael, upon their meeting.

"Oh, yes! How could I help it--everything is delightful. And the
Princess--she is so good and gracious. Oh, if I were a man, I should go
mad with loving her!"

She spoke with enthusiasm; she even drew her veil partially aside; yet
Sergius did not respond; he was asking himself if it were possible the
girl could be an impostor. Presently he resolved to try her with
questions.

"Tell me of your father. Is he well?"

At this she raised her veil entirely, and in turn asked: "Which father
do you mean?"

"Which father," he repeated, stopping.

"Oh, I have the advantage of everybody else! I have two fathers."

He could do no more than repeat after her: "Two fathers!"

"Yes; Uel the merchant is one of them, and the Prince of India is the
other. I suppose you mean the Prince, since you know him. He
accompanied me to the landing this morning, and seated me in the boat.
He was then well."

There was no concealment here. Yet Sergius saw the disclosure was not
complete. He was tempted to go on.

"Two fathers! How can such thing be?"

She met the question with a laugh. "Oh! If it depended on which of them
is the kinder to me, I could not tell you the real father."

Sergius stood looking at her, much as to say: "That is no answer; you
are playing with me."

"See how we are falling behind," she then said. "Come, let us go on. I
can talk while walking."

They set forward briskly, but it was noticeable that he moved nearer
her, stooping from his great height to hear further.

"This is the way of it," she continued of her own prompting. "Some
years ago, my father, Uel, the merchant, received a letter from an old
friend of his father's, telling him that he was about to return to
Constantinople after a long absence in the East somewhere, and asking
if he, Uel, would assist the servant who was bearer of the note in
buying and furnishing a house. Uel did so, and when the stranger
arrived, his home was ready for him. I was then a little girl, and went
one day to see the Prince of India, his residence being opposite Uel's
on the other side of the street. He was studying some big books, but
quit them, and picked me up, and asked me who I was? I told him Uel was
my father. What was my name? Lael, I said. How old was I? And when I
answered that also, he kissed me, and cried, and, to my wonder,
declared how he had once a child named Lael; she looked like me, and
was just my age when she died"--

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Sergius.

"Yes, and he then said Heaven had sent me to take her place. Would I be
his Lael? I answered I would, if Uel consented. He took me in his arms,
carried me across the street and talked so Uel could not have refused
had he wanted to."

The manner of the telling was irresistible. At the conclusion, she
turned to him and said, with emotion: "There, now. You see I really
have two fathers, and you know how I came by them: and were I to
recount their goodness to me, and how they both love me, and how happy
each one of them is in believing me the object of the other's
affection, you would understand just as well how I know no difference
between them."

"It is strange; yet as you tell it, little friend, it is not strange,"
he returned, seriously. They were at the instant in a bar of brightest
sunlight projected across the road; and had she asked him the cause of
the frown on his face, he could not have told her he was thinking of
Demedes.

"Yes, I see it--I see it, and congratulate you upon being so doubly
blessed. Tell me next who the Prince of India is."

She looked now here, now there, he watching her narrowly.

"Oh! I never thought of asking him about himself."

She was merely puzzled by an unexpected question.

"But you know something of him?"

"Let me think," she replied. "Yes, he was the intimate of my father
Uel's father, and of his father before him."

"Is he so old then?"

"I cannot say how long he has been a family acquaintance. Of my
knowledge he is very learned in everything. He speaks all the languages
I ever heard of; he passes the nights alone on the roof of his house"--

"Alone on the roof of his house!"

"Only of clear nights, you understand. A servant carries a chair and
table up for him, and a roll of papers, with pen and ink, and a clock
of brass and gold. The paper is a map of the heavens; and he sits there
watching the stars, marking them in position on the map, the clock
telling him the exact time."

"An astronomer," said Sergius.

"And an astrologer," she added; "and besides these things he is a
doctor, but goes only amongst the poor, taking nothing from them. He is
also a chemist; and he has tables of the plants curative and deadly,
and can extract their qualities, and reduce them from fluids to solids,
and proportionate them. He is also a master of figures, a science, he
always terms it, the first of creative principles without which God
could not be God. So, too, he is a traveller--indeed I think he has
been over the known world. You cannot speak of a capital or of an
island, or a tribe which he has not visited. He has servants from the
farthest East. One of his attendants is an African King; and what is
the strangest to me, Sergius, his domestics are all deaf and dumb."

"Impossible!"

"Nothing appears impossible to him."

"How does he communicate with them?"

"They catch his meaning from the motion of his lips. He says signs are
too slow and uncertain for close explanations."

"Still he must resort to some language."

"Oh, yes, the Greek."

"But if they have somewhat to impart to him?"

"It is theirs to obey, and pantomime seems sufficient to convey the
little they have to return to him, for it is seldom more than, 'My
Lord, I have done the thing you gave me to do.' If the matter be
complex, he too resorts to the lip-speech, which he could not teach
without first being proficient in it himself. Thus, for instance, to
Nilo"--

"The black giant who defended you against the Greek?"

"Yes--a wonderful man--an ally, not a servant. On the journey to
Constantinople, the Prince turned aside into an African Kingdom called
Kash-Cush. I cannot tell where it is. Nilo was the King, and a mighty
hunter and warrior. His trappings hang in his room now--shields,
spears, knives, bows and arrows, and among them a net of linen threads.
When he took the field for lions, his favorite game, the net and a
short sword were all he cared for. His throne room, I have heard my
father the Prince say, was carpeted with skins taken by him in single
combats."

"What could he do with the net, little Princess?"

"I will give you his account; perhaps you can see it clearly--I cannot.
When the monster makes his leap, the corners of the net are tossed up
in the air, and he is in some way caught and tangled... Well, as I was
saying, Nilo, though deaf and dumb, of choice left his people and
throne to follow the Prince, he knew not where."

"Oh, little friend! Do you know you are talking the incredible to me?
Who ever heard of such thing before?"

Sergius' blue eyes were astare with wonder.

"I only speak what I have heard recounted by my father, the Prince, to
my other father, Uel.... What I intended saying was that directly the
Prince established himself at home he began teaching Nilo to converse.
The work was slow at first; but there is no end to the master's skill
and patience; he and the King now talk without hindrance. He has even
made him a believer in God."

"A Christian, you mean."

"No. In my father's opinion the mind of a wild man cannot comprehend
modern Christianity; nobody can explain the Trinity; yet a child can be
taught the almightiness of God, and won to faith in him."

"Do you speak for yourself or the Prince?"

"The Prince," she replied.

Sergius was struck with the idea, and wished to go further with it, but
they were at the foot of the hill, and Lael exclaimed, "The garden is
deserted. We may lose the starting of the race. Let us hurry."

"Nay, little friend, you forget how narrow my skirts are. I cannot run.
Let us walk fast. Give me a hand. There now--we will arrive in time."

Near the palace, however, Sergius dropped into his ordinary gait; then
coming to a halt, he asked: "Tell me to whom else you have related this
pretty tale of the two fathers?"

His look and tone were exceedingly grave, and she studied his face, and
questioned him in turn: "You are very serious--why?"

"Oh, I was wondering if the story is public?" More plainly, he was
wondering whence Demedes had his information.

"I suppose it is generally known; at least I cannot see why it should
not be."

The few words swept the last doubt from his mind; yet she continued:
"My father Uel is well known to the merchants of the city. I have heard
him say gratefully that since the coming of the Prince of India his
business has greatly increased. He used to deal in many kinds of goods;
now he sells nothing but precious stones. His patrons are not alone the
nobles of Byzantium; traders over in Galata buy of him for the western
markets, especially Italy and France. My other father, the Prince, is
an expert in such things, and does not disdain to help Uel with advice."

Lael might have added that the Prince, in course of his travels, had
ascertained the conveniency of jewels as a currency familiar and
acceptable to almost every people, and always kept a store of them by
him, from which he frequently replenished his protege's stock, allowing
him the profits. That she did not make this further disclosure was
probably due to ignorance of the circumstances; in other words, her
artlessness was extreme enough to render her a dangerous confidant, and
both her fathers were aware of it.

"Everybody in the bazaar is friendly to my father Uel, and the Prince
visits him there, going in state; and he and his train are an
attraction"--thus Lael proceeded. "On his departure, the questions
about him are countless, and Uel holds nothing back. Indeed, it is more
than likely he has put the whole mart and city in possession of the
history of my adoption by the Prince."

In front of the palace she broke off abruptly: "But see! The landing is
covered with men and women. Let us hurry."

Presently they issued from the garden, and were permitted to join the
Princess.




CHAPTER XIII

THE HAMARI TURNS BOATMAN


The boatmen had taken up some of the marble blocks of the landing, and
planting long oars upright in the ground, and fixing other oars
crosswise on them, constructed a secure frame covered with fresh
sail-cloth. From their vessels they had also brought material for a
dais under the shelter thus improvised; another sail for carpet, and a
chair on the dais completed the stand whence the Princess was to view
and judge the race.

A way was opened for her through the throng, and with her attendants,
she passed to the stand; and as she went, all the women near reached
out their hands and reverently touched the skirt of her gown--so did
their love for her trench on adoration.

The shore from the stand to the town, and from the stand again around
the promontory on the south, was thronged with spectators, while every
vantage point fairly in view was occupied by them; even the ships were
pressed into the service; and somehow the air over and about the bay
seemed to give back and tremble with the eagerness of interest
everywhere discernible.

Between Fanar, the last northern point of lookout over the Black Sea,
and Galata, down on the Golden Horn, there are about thirty hamlets,
villages and cities specking the European shore of the Bosphorus. Each
of them has its settlement of fishermen. Aside from a voluminous net,
the prime necessity for successful pursuit of the ancient and honorable
calling is a boat. Like most things of use amongst men, the vessel of
preferred model here came of evolution. The modern tourist may yet see
its kind drawn up at every landing he passes.

Proper handling, inclusive of running out and hauling in the seine,
demanded a skilful crew of at least five men; and as whole lives were
devoted to rowing, the proficiency finally attained in it can be
fancied. It was only natural, therefore, that the thirty communities
should each insist upon having the crew of greatest excellence--the
crew which could outrow any other five on the Bosphorus; and as every
Byzantine Greek was a passionate gambler, the wagers were without end.
Vauntings of the sort, like the Black Sea birds of unresting wings,
went up and down the famous waterway.

At long intervals occasions presented for the proof of these men of
pride; after which, for a period there was an admitted champion crew,
and a consequent hush of the babble and brawl.

In determining to conclude the fete with a boat-race open to all Greek
comers from the capital to the Cyanian rocks, the Princess Irene did
more than secure a desirable climax; unconsciously, perhaps, she hit
upon the measure most certain to bring peace to the thirty villages.

She imposed but two conditions on the competitors--they should be
fishermen and Greeks.

The interval between the announcement of the race and the day set for
it had been filled with boasting, from which one would have supposed
the bay of Therapia at the hour of starting would be too contracted to
hold the adversaries. When the hour came there were six crews present
actually prepared to contest for the prize--a tall ebony crucifix, with
a gilded image, to be displayed of holidays on the winning prow. The
shrinkage told the usual tale of courage oozed out. There was of course
no end of explanation.

About three o'clock, the six boats, each with a crew of five men, were
held in front of the Princess' stand, representative of as many towns.
Their prows were decorated with banderoles large enough to be easily
distinguished at a distance--one yellow, chosen for Yenimahale; one
blue, for Buyukdere; one white, for Therapia; one red, for Stenia; one
green, for Balta-Liman; and one half white and half scarlet, for Bebek.
The crews were in their seats--fellows with knotted arms bare to the
shoulder; white shirts under jackets the color of the flags, trousers
in width like petticoats. The feet were uncovered that, while the pull
was in delivery, they might the better clinch the cleats across the
bottom of the boat.

The fresh black paint with which the vessels had been smeared from end
to end on the outside was stoned smoothly down until it glistened like
varnish. Inside there was not a superfluity to be seen of the weight of
a feather.

The contestants knew every point of advantage, and, not less clearly,
they were there to win or be beaten doing their best. They were cool
and quiet; much more so, indeed, than the respective clansmen and
clanswomen.

From these near objects of interest, the Princess directed a glance
over the spreading field of dimpled water to a galley moored under a
wooded point across on the Asiatic shore. The point is now crowned with
the graceful but neglected Kiosk of the Viceroy of Egypt. That galley
was the thither terminus of the race course, and the winners turning
it, and coming back to the place of starting, must row in all about
three miles.

A little to the right of the Princess' stand stood a pole of height to
be seen by the multitude as well as the rival oarsmen, and a rope for
hoisting a white flag to the top connected it with the chair on the
dais. At the appearance of the flag the boats were to start; while it
was flying, the race was on.

And now the competitors are in position by lot from right to left. On
bay and shore the shouting is sunk to a murmur. A moment more--but in
that critical period an interruption occurred.

A yell from a number of voices in sharpest unison drew attention to the
point of land jutting into the water on the north side not inaptly
called the toe of Therapia, and a boat, turning the point, bore down
with speed toward the sail-covered stand. There were four rowers in it;
yet its glossy sides and air of trimness were significant of a seventh
competitor for some reason behind time. The black flag at the prow and
the black uniform of the oarsmen confirmed the idea. The hand of the
Princess was on the signal rope; but she paused.

As the boat-hook of the newcomers fell on the edge of the landing, one
of them dropped upon his knees, crying: "Grace, O Princess! Grace, and
a little time!"

The four were swarthy men, and, unlike the Greeks they were seeking to
oppose, their swart was a peculiarity of birth, a racial sign.
Recognizing them, the spectators near by shouted: "Gypsies! Gypsies!"
and the jeer passed from mouth to mouth far as the bridge over the
creek at the corner of the bay; yet it was not ill-natured. That these
unbelievers of unknown origin, separatists like the Jews, could offer
serious opposition to the chosen of the towns was ridiculous. Since
they excited no apprehension, their welcome was general.

"Why the need of grace? Who are you?" the Princess replied, gravely.

"We are from the valley by Buyukdere," the man returned.

"Are you fishermen?"

"Judged by our catches the year through, and the prices we get in the
market, O Princess, it is not boasting to say our betters cannot be
found, though you search both shores between Fanar and the Isles of the
Princes."

This was too much for the bystanders. The presence they were in was not
sufficient to restrain an outburst of derision.

"But the conditions of the race shut you out. You are not Greeks," the
judge continued.

"Nay, Princess, that is according to the ground of judgment. If it
please you to decide by birth and residence rather than ancestry, then
are we to be preferred over many of the nobles who go in and out of His
Majesty's gates unchallenged. Has not the sweet water that comes down
from the hills seeking the sea through our meadow furnished drink for
our fathers hundreds of years? And as it knew them, it knows us."

"Well answered, I must admit. Now, my friend, do as wisely with what I
ask next, and you shall have a place. Say you come out winners, what
will you do with the prize? I have heard you are not Christians."

The man raised his face the first time.

"Not Christians! Were the charge true, then, argument being for the
hearing, I would say the matter of religion is not among the
conditions. But I am a petitioner, not lawyer, and to my rude thinking
it is better that I hold on as I began. Trust us, O Princess! There is
a plane tree, wondrous old, and with seven twin trunks, standing before
our tents, and in it there is a hollow which shelters securely as a
house. Attend me now, I pray. If happily we win, we will convert the
tree into a cathedral, and build an altar in it, and set the prize
above the altar in such style that all who love the handiworks of
nature better than the artfulness of men may come and worship there
reverently as in the holiest of houses, Sancta Sophia not excepted."

"I will trust you. With such a promise overheard by so many of this
concourse, to refuse you a part in the race were a shame to the
Immaculate Mother. But how is it you are but four?"

"We were five, O Princess; now one is sick. It was at his bidding we
come; he thought of the hundreds of oarsmen who would be here one at
least could be induced to share our fortune."

"You have leave to try them."

The man arose, and looked at the bystanders, but they turned away.

"A hundred noumiae for two willing hands!" he shouted.

There was no reply. "If not for the money, then in honor of the noble
lady who has feasted you and your wives and children."

A voice answered out of the throng: "Here am I!" and presently the
hamari appeared with the bear behind him.

"Here," he said, "take care of Joqard for me. I will row in the sick
man's place, and"--

The remainder of the sentence was lost in an outburst of gibing--and
laughter. Finally the Princess asked the rowers if they were satisfied
with the volunteer.

They surveyed him doubtfully.

"Art thou an oarsman?" one of them asked.

"There is not a better on the Bosphorus. And I will prove it. Here,
some of you--take the beast off my hands. Fear not, friend, Joqard's
worst growl is inoffensive as thunder without lightning. That's a good
man."

And with the words the hamari released the leading strap, sprang into
the boat, and without giving time for protest or remonstrance, threw
off his jacket and sandals, tucked up his shirt-sleeves, and dropped
into the vacant fifth seat. The dexterity with which he then unshipped
the oars and took them in hand measurably quieted the associates thus
audaciously adopted; his action was a kind of certificate that the
right man had been sent them.

"Believe in me," he said, in a low tone. "I have the two qualities
which will bring us home winners--skill and endurance." Then he spoke
to the Princess: "Noble lady, have I your consent to make a
proclamation?"

The manner of the request was singularly deferential. Sergius observed
the change, and took a closer look at him while the Princess was giving
the permission.

Standing upon the seat, the hamari raised his voice: "Ho,
here--there--every one!" and drawing a purse from his bosom, he waved
it overhead, with a louder shout, "See!--a hundred noumiae, and not all
copper either. Piece against piece weighed or counted, I put them in
wager! Speak one or all. Who dares the chance?"

Takers of the offer not appearing on the shore, he shook the purse at
his competitors.

"If we are not Christians," he said to them, "we are oarsmen and not
afraid. See--I stake this purse--if you win, it is yours."

They only gaped at him.

He put the purse back slowly, and recounting the several towns of his
opponents by their proper names in Greek, he cried: "Buyukdere,
Therapia, Stenia, Bebek, Balta-Liman, Yenimahale--your women will sing
you low to-night!" Then to the Princess: "Allow us now to take our
place seventh on the left."

The bystanders were in a maze. Had they been served with a mess of
brag, or was the fellow really capable? One thing was clear--the
interest in the race had taken a rise perceptible in the judge's stand
not less than on the crowded shore.

The four Gypsies, on their part, were content with the volunteer. In
fact, they were more than satisfied when he said to them, as their
vessel turned into position:

"Now, comrades, be governed by me; and besides the prize, if we win,
you shall have my purse to divide amongst you man and man. Is it
agreed?" And they answered, foreman and all, yes. "Very well," he
returned. "Do you watch, and get the time and force from me. Now for
the signal."

The Princess sent the starting flag to the top of the pole, and the
boats were off together. A great shout went up from the spectators--a
shout of men mingled with the screams of women to whom a hurrah or
cheer of any kind appears impossible.

To warm the blood, there is nothing after all like the plaudits of a
multitude looking on and mightily concerned. This was now noticeable.
The eyes of all the rowers enlarged; their teeth set hard; the arteries
of the neck swelled; and even in their tension the muscles of the arms
quivered.

A much better arrangement would have been to allow the passage of the
racers broadside to the shore; for then the shiftings of position, and
the strategies resorted to would have been plain to the beholders; as
it was, each foreshortened vessel soon became to them a black body,
with but a man and one pair of oars in motion; and sometimes
provokingly indistinguishable, the banderoles blew backward squarely in
a line with the direction of the movement. Then the friends on land
gave over exercising their throats; finally drawn down to the water's
edge, and pressing on each other, they steadied and welded into a mass,
like a wall.

Once there was a general shout. Gradually the boats had lost the
formation of the start, and falling in behind each other, assumed an
order comparable to a string. While this change was going on, a breeze
unusually strong blew from the south, bringing every flag into view at
the same time: when it was perceived that the red was in the lead.
Forthwith the clansmen of Stenia united in a triumphant yell, followed
immediately, however, by another yet louder. It was discovered, thanks
to the same breeze, that the black banderole of the Gypsies was the
last of the seven. Then even those who had been most impressed by the
bravado of the hamari, surrendered themselves to laughter and sarcasm.

"See the infidels!" "They had better be at home taking care of their
kettles and goats!" "Turn the seven twins into a cathedral, will they?
The devil will turn them into porpoises first!" "Where is the hamari
now--where? By St. Michael, the father of fishermen, he is finding what
it is to have more noumiae than brains! Ha, ha, ha!"

Nevertheless the coolest of the thirty-five men then scudding the
slippery waterway was the hamari--he had started the coolest--he was
the coolest now.

For a half mile he allowed his crew to do their best, and with them he
had done his best. The effort sufficed to carry them to the front,
where he next satisfied himself they could stay, if they had the
endurance. He called to them:

"Well done, comrades! The prize and the money are yours! But ease up a
little. Let them pass. We will catch them again at the turn. Keep your
eyes on me."

Insensibly he lessened the dip and reach of his oars; at last, as the
thousands on the Therapian shore would have had it, the Gypsy racer was
the hinderling of the pack. Afterwards there were but trifling changes
of position until the terminal galley was reached.

By a rule of the race, the contestants were required to turn the
galley, keeping it on the right; and it was a great advantage to be a
clear first there, since the fortunate party could then make the round
unhindered and in the least space. The struggle for the point began
quite a quarter of a mile away. Each crew applied itself to quickening
the speed--every oar dipped deeper, and swept a wider span;--on a
little, and the keepers of the galley could hear the half groan, half
grunt with which the coming toilers relieved the extra exertion now
demanded of them;--yet later, they saw them spring to their feet, reach
far back, and finish the long deep draw by falling, or rather toppling
backward to their seats.

Only the hamari eschewed the resort for the present. He cast a look
forward, and said quickly: "Attend, comrades!" Thereupon he added
weight to his left delivery, altering the course to an angle which, if
pursued, must widen the circle around the galley instead of contracting
it.

On nearing the goal the rush of the boats grew fiercer; each foreman,
considering it honor lost, if not a fatal mischance, did he fail to be
first at the turning-point, persisted in driving straight forward--a
madness which the furious yelling of the people on the marker's deck
intensified. This was exactly what the hamari had foreseen. When the
turn began five of the opposing vessels ran into each other. The boil
and splash of water, breaking of oars, splintering of boatsides; the
infuriate cries, oaths, and blind striving of the rowers, some intent
on getting through at all hazards, some turned combatants, striking or
parrying with their heavy oaken blades; the sound of blows on breaking
heads; plunges into the foaming brine; blood trickling down faces and
necks, and reddening naked arms--such was the catastrophe seen in its
details from the overhanging gunwale of the galley. And while it went
on, the worse than confused mass drifted away from the ship's side,
leaving a clear space through which, with the first shout heard from
him during the race, the hamari urged his crew, and rounded the goal.

On the far Therapian shore the multitude were silent. They could dimly
see every incident at the turn--the collision, fighting, and manifold
mishaps, and the confounding of the banderoles. Then the Stenia colors
flashed round the galley, with the black behind it a close second.

"Is that the hamari's boat next the leader?"

Thus the Princess, and upon the answer, she added: "It looks as if the
Holy One might find servants among the irreclaimables in the valley."

Had the Gypsies at last a partisan?

The two rivals were now clear of the galley. For a time there was but
one cry heard--"Stenia! Stenia!" The five oarsmen of that charming town
had been carefully selected; they were vigorous, skilful, and had a
chief well-balanced in judgment. The race seemed theirs. Suddenly--it
was when the homestretch was about half covered--the black flag rushed
past them.

Then the life went out of the multitude. "St. Peter is dead!" they
cried--"St. Peter is dead! It is nothing to be a Greek now!" and they
hung their heads, refusing to be comforted.

The Gypsies came in first; and amidst the profoundest silence, they
dropped their oars with a triumphant crash on the marble revetment. The
hamari wiped the sweat from his face, and put on his jacket and
sandals; pausing then to toss his purse to the foreman, and say: "Take
it in welcome, my friends. I am content with my share of the victory,"
he stepped ashore. In front of the judge's stand, he knelt, and said:
"Should there be a dispute touching the prize, O Princess, be a witness
unto thyself. Thine eyes have seen the going and the coming; and if the
world belie thee not--sometimes it can be too friendly--thou art fair,
just and fearless."

On foot again, his courtierly manner vanished in a twinkling.

"Joqard, Joqard? Where are you?"

Some one answered: "Here he is."

"Bring him quickly. For Joqard is an example to men--he is honest, and
tells no lies. He has made much money, and allowed me to keep it all,
and spend it on myself. Women are jealous of him, but with reason--he
is lovely enough to have been a love of Solomon's; his teeth are as
pearls of great price; his lips scarlet as a bride's; his voice is the
voice of a nightingale singing to the full moon from an acacia tree
fronded last night; in motion, he is now a running wave, now a blossom
on a swaying branch, now a girl dancing before a king--all the graces
are his. Yes, bring me Joqard, and keep the world; without him, it is
nothing to me."

While speaking, from a jacket pocket he brought out the fan Lael had
thrown him from the portico, and used it somewhat ostentatiously to
cool himself. The Princess and her attendants laughed heartily.
Sergius, however, watched the man with a scarcely defined feeling that
he had seen him. But where? And he was serious because he could not
answer.

Taking the leading strap, when Joqard was brought, the hamari scrupled
not to give the brute a hearty cuff, whereat the fishermen shook the
sails of the pavilion with laughter; then, standing Joqard up, he
placed one of the huge paws on his arm, and, with the mincing step of a
lady's page, they disappeared.




CHAPTER XIV

THE PRINCESS HAS A CREED


"I shall ask you, Sergius, to return to the city to-night, for inquiry
about the fete will be lively tomorrow in the holy houses. And if you
have the disposition to defend me"--

"You doubt me, O Princess?"

"No."

"O little mother, let me once for all be admitted to your confidence,
that in talking to me there may never be a question of my loyalty."

This, with what follows, was part of a conversation between the
Princess Irene and Sergius of occurrence the evening of the fete in the
court heretofore described, being that to which she retired to read the
letter of introduction brought her by the young monk from Father
Hilarion.

From an apartment adjoining, the voices of her attendants were
occasionally heard blent with the monotonous tinkle of water
overflowing the bowls of the fountain. In the shadowy depths of the
opening above the court the stars might have been seen had not a number
of lamps suspended from a silken cord stretched from wall to wall
flooded the marble enclosure with their nearer light.

There was a color, so to speak, in the declaration addressed to her--a
warmth and earnestness--which drew a serious look from the
Princess--the look, in a word, with which a woman admits a fear lest
the man speaking to her may be a lover.

To say of her who habitually discouraged the tender passion, and the
thought of it, that she moved in an atmosphere charged with attractions
irresistible to the other sex sounds strangely: yet it was true; and as
a consequence she had grown miraculously quick with respect to
appearances.

However, she now dismissed the suspicion, and replied:

"I believe you, Sergius, I believe you. The Holy Virgin sees how
completely and gladly."

She went on presently, a tremulous light in her eyes making him think
of tears. "You call me little mother. There are some who might laugh,
did they hear you, yet I agree to the term. It implies a relation of
trust without embarrassment, and a promise of mutual faithfulness
warranting me to call you in return, Sergius, and sometimes 'dear
Sergius.' ... Yes, I think it better that you go back immediately. The
Hegumen will want to speak to you in the morning about what you have
seen and heard to-day. My boatmen can take you down, and arrived there,
they will stay the night. My house is always open to them."

After telling her how glad he was for the permission to address her in
a style usual in his country, he moved to depart, but she detained him.

"Stay a moment. To-day I had not time to deal as I wished with the
charges the Hegumen prefers against me. You remember I promised to
speak to you about them frankly, and I think it better to do so now;
for with my confessions always present you cannot be surprised by
misrepresentations, nor can doubt take hold of you so readily. You
shall go hence possessed of every circumstance essential to judge how
guilty I am."

"They must do more than talk," the monk returned, with emphasis.

"Beware, Sergius! Do not provoke them into argument--or if you must
talk, stop when you have set them to talking. The listener is he who
can best be wise as a serpent.... And now, dear friend, lend me your
good sense. Thanks to the generosity of a kinsman, I am mistress of a
residence in the city and this palace; and it is mine to choose between
them. How healthful and charming life is with surroundings like
these--here, the gardens; yonder, the verdurous hills; and there,
before my door, a channel of the seas always borrowing from the sky,
never deserted by men. Guilt seeks exclusion, does it not? Well,
whether you come in the day or the night, my gate is open; nor have I a
warder other than Lysander; and his javelin is but a staff with which
to steady his failing steps. There are no prohibitions shutting me in.
Christian, Turk, Gypsy--the world in fact--is welcome to see what all I
have; and as to danger, I am defended better than with guards. I strive
diligently to love my neighbors as I love myself, and they know it....
Coming nearer the accusation now. I find here a freedom which not a
religious house in the city can give me, nor one on the Isles, not
Halki itself. Here I am never disturbed by sectaries or partisans; the
Greek and the Latin wrangle before the Emperor and at the altars; but
they spare me in this beloved retiracy. Freedom! Ah, yes, I find it in
this retreat--this escape from temptations--freedom to work and sleep,
and praise God as seems best to me--freedom to be myself in defiance of
deplorable social customs--and there is no guilt in it.... Coming still
nearer the very charge, hear, O Sergius, and I will tell you of the
brass on my gate, and why I suffer it to stay there; since you, with
your partialities, account it a witness against me, it is in likelihood
the foundation of the calumny associating me with the Turk. Let me ask
first, did the Hegumen mention the name of one such associate?"

"No."

The Princess with difficulty repressed her feelings.

"Bear with me a moment," she said; "you cannot know the self-mastery I
require to thus defend myself. Can I ever again be confident of my
judgment? How doubts and fears will beset me when hereafter upon my own
responsibility I choose a course, whatever the affair! Ah, God, whom I
have sought to make my reliance, seems so far away! It will be for Him
in the great day to declare if my purpose in living here be not escape
from guiltiness in thought, from wrong and temptation, from taint to
character. For further security, I keep myself surrounded with good
women, and from the beginning took the public into confidence, giving
it privileges, and inviting it to a study of my daily life. And this is
the outcome! ... I will proceed now. The plate on the gate is a
safeguard"--

"Then Mahommed has visited you?"

The slightest discernible pallor overspread her face.

"Does it surprise you so much? ... This is the way it came about. You
remember our stay at the White Castle, and doubtless you remember the
knight in armor who received us at the landing--a gallant,
fair-speaking, chivalrous person whom we supposed the Governor, and who
prevailed upon us to become his guests while the storm endured. You
recollect him?"

"Yes. He impressed me greatly."

"Well, let me now bring up an incident not in your knowledge. The
eunuch in whose care I was placed for the time with Lael, daughter of
the Prince of India, as my companion, to afford us agreeable diversion,
obtained my consent to introduce an Arab story-teller of great repute
among the tribes of the desert and other Eastern people. He gave us the
name of the man--Sheik Aboo-Obeidah. The Sheik proved worthy his fame.
So entertaining was he, in fact, I invited him here, and he came."

"Did I understand you to say the entertainment took place in Lael's
presence?"

"She was my companion throughout."

"Let us be thankful, little mother."

"Ay, Sergius, and that I have witnesses down to the last incident. You
may have heard how the Emperor and his court did me the high honor of a
visit in state."

"The visit was notorious."

"Well, while the royal company were at table, Lysander appeared and
announced Aboo-Obeidah, and, by permission of the Emperor, the
story-teller was admitted, and remained during the repast. Now I come
to the surprising event--Aboo-Obeidah was Mahommed!"

"Prince Mahommed--son of the terrible Amurath?" exclaimed Sergius. "How
did you know him?"

"By the brass plate. When he went to his boat, he stopped and nailed
the plate to the pillar. I went to look at it, and not understanding
the inscription, sent to town for a Turk who enlightened me."

"Then the hamari was not gasconading?"

"What did he say?"

"He confirmed your Turk."

She gazed awhile at the overflowing of the fountain, giving a thought
perhaps to the masquerader and his description of himself what time he
was alone with her on the portico; presently she resumed:

"One word more now, and I dismiss the brass plate.... I cannot blind
myself, dear friend, to the condition of my kinsman's empire. It creeps
in closer and closer to the walls of Constantinople. Presently there
will be nothing of it left save the little the gates of the capital can
keep. The peace we have is by the grace of an unbeliever too old for
another great military enterprise; and when it breaks, then, O Sergius,
yon safeguard may be for others besides myself--for many
others--farmers, fishermen and townspeople caught in the storm. Say
such anticipation followed you, Sergius--what would you do with the
plate?"

"What would I do with it? O little mother, I too should take counsel of
my fears."

"You approve my keeping it where it is, then? Thank you.... What
remains for explanation? Ah, yes--my heresy. That you shall dispose of
yourself. Remain here a moment."

She arose, and passing through a doorway heavily draped with cloth,
left him to the entertainment of the fountain. Returning soon, she
placed a roll of paper in his hand.

"There," she said, "is the creed which your Hegumen makes such a sin.
It may be heresy; yet, God helping me, and Christ and the Holy Mother
lending their awful help, I dare die for it. Take it, dear Sergius. You
will find it simple--nine words in all--and take this cover for it."

He wrapped the parcel in the white silken cover she gave him, making
mental comparison, nevertheless, with the old Nicaean ordinances.

"Only nine words--O little mother!"

"Nine," she returned.

"They should be of gold."

"I leave them to speak for themselves."

"Shall I return the paper?"

"No, it is a copy.... But it is time you were going. Fortunately the
night is pleasant and starlit; and if you are tired, the speeding of
the boat will rest you. Let me have an opinion of the creed at your
leisure."

They bade each other good-night.

       *       *       *       *       *

About eight o'clock next morning Sergius awoke. He had dropped on his
cot undressed, and slept the sweet sleep of healthful youth; now,
glancing about, he thought of the yesterday and the spacious garden, of
the palace in the garden, of the Princess Irene, and of the
conversation she held with him in the bright inner court. And the creed
of nine words! He felt for it, and found it safe. Then his thought flew
to Lael. She had exonerated herself. Demedes was a liar--Demedes, the
presumptuous knave! He was to have been at the fete, but had not dared
go. There was a limit to his audacity; and in great thankfulness for
the discovery, Sergius tossed an arm over the edge of the narrow cot,
and struck the stool, his solitary item of furniture. He raised his
head, and looked at the stool, wondering how it came there so close to
his cot. What was that he saw? A fan?--And in his chamber? Somebody had
brought it in. He examined it cautiously. Whose was it? Whose could it
be?--How!--No--but it _was_ the very fan he had seen Lael toss to the
hamari from the portico! And the hamari?

A bit of folded paper on the settle attracted his attention. He
snatched it up, opened, and read it, and while he read his brows knit,
his eyes opened to their full.

"PATIENCE--COURAGE--JUDGMENT!

"Thou art better apprised of the meaning of the motto than thou wert
yesterday.

"Thy seat in the Academy is still reserved for thee.

"Thou mayst find the fan of the Princess of India useful; with me it is
embalmed in sentiment.

"Be wise. THE HAMARI."

He read the scrap twice, the second time slowly; then it fell rustling
to the floor, while he clasped his hands and looked to Heaven. A murmur
was all he could accomplish.

Afterwards, prostrate on the cot, his face to the wall, he debated with
himself, and concluded:

"The Greek is capable of any villany he sets about--of abduction and
murder--and now indeed must Lael beware!"




CHAPTER XV

THE PRINCE OF INDIA PREACHES GOD TO THE GREEKS


We will now take the liberty of reopening the audience chamber of the
palace of Blacherne, presuming the reader holds it in recollection. It
is the day when, by special appointment, the Prince of India appears
before the Emperor Constantine to present his idea of a basis for
Universal Religious Union. The hour is exactly noon.

A report of the Prince's former audience with His Majesty had awakened
general curiosity to see the stranger and hear his discourse. This was
particularly the feeling in spiritual circles; by which term the most
influential makers of public opinion are meant. A sharp though decorous
rivalry for invitations to be present on the occasion ensued.

The Emperor, in robes varied but little from those he wore the day of
the Prince's first audience, occupied the throne on the dais. On both
sides of him the company sat in a semicircular arrangement which left
them all facing the door of the main entrance, and permitted the
placement of a table in a central position under every eye.

The appearance of the assemblage would have disappointed the reader;
for while the court was numerously represented, with every functionary
in his utmost splendor of decoration, it was outnumbered by the
brethren of the Holy Orders, whose gowns, for the most part of gray and
black material unrelieved by gayety in color, imparted a sombreness to
the scene which the ample light of the chamber could not entirely
dissipate, assisted though it was by refractions in plenitude from
heads bald and heads merely tonsured.

It should be observed now that besides a very striking exterior, the
Emperor fancied he discerned in the Prince of India an idea enriched by
an extraordinary experience. At loss to make him out, impressed, not
unpleasantly, with the mystery the stranger had managed, as usual, to
leave behind him, His Majesty had looked forward to this second
appearance with interest, and turned it over with a view to squeezing
out all of profit there might be in it. Why not, he asked himself, make
use of the opportunity to bring the chiefs of the religious factions
once more together? The explosive tendency which it seemed impossible
for them to leave in their cells with their old dalmatics had made it
politic to keep them apart widely and often as circumstances would
permit; here, however, he thought the danger might be averted, since
they would attend as auditors from whom speech or even the asking a
question would be out of order unless by permission. The imperial
presence, it was also judged, would restrain the boldest of them from
resolving himself into a disputant.

The arrangement of the chamber for the audience had been a knotty
problem to our venerable acquaintance, the Dean; but at last he
submitted his plan, giving every invitee a place by ticket; the
Emperor, however, blotted it out mercilessly. "Ah, my old friend," he
said, with a smile which assuaged the pang of disapproval, "you have
loaded yourself with unnecessary trouble. There was never a mass
performed with stricter observance of propriety than we will now have.
Fix the chairs thus"--and with a finger-sweep he described a
semicircle--"here the table for the Prince. Having notified me of his
intention to read from some ancient books, he must have a table--and
let there be no reserved seat, except one for the Patriarch. Set a
sedilium, high and well clothed, for him here on my right--and forget
not a stool for his feet; for now to the bitterness of controversy long
continued he has added a constriction of the lungs, and together they
are grievous to old age."

"And Scholarius?"

"Scholarius is an orator; some say he is a prophet; I know he is not an
official; so of the seats vacant when he arrives, let him choose for
himself."

The company began coming early. Every Churchman of prominence in the
city was in attendance. The reception was unusually ceremonious. When
the bustle was over, and His Majesty at ease, the pages having arranged
the folds of his embroidered vestments, he rested his hand lightly on
the golden cone of the right arm of the throne, and surveyed the
audience with a quiet assurance becoming his birth in the purple,
looking first to the Patriarch, and bowing to him, and receiving a
salute in return. To the others on the right he glanced next, with a
gracious bend of the head, and then to those on the left. In. the
latter quarter he recognized Scholarius, and covertly smiled; if
Gregory had taken seat on the left, Scholarius would certainly have
crossed to the right. There was no such thing as compromise in his
intolerant nature.

One further look the Emperor gave to where, near the door, a group of
women was standing, in attendance evidently upon the Princess Irene,
who was the only one of them seated. Their heads were covered by veils
which had the appearance of finely woven silver. This jealous
precaution, of course, cut off recognition; nevertheless such of the
audience as had the temerity to cast their eyes at the fair array were
consoled by a view of jewelled hands, bare arms inimitably round and
graceful, and figures in drapery of delicate colors, and of designs to
tempt the imagination without offence to modesty--a respect in which
the Greek costume has never been excelled. The Emperor recognized the
Princess, and slightly inclined his head to her. He then spoke to the
Dean:

"Wait on the Prince of India, and if he is prepared, accompany him
hither."

Passing out a side door, the master of ceremonies presently reappeared
with Nilo in guidance. The black giant was as usual barbarously
magnificent in attire; and staring at him, the company did not observe
the burden he brought in, and laid on the table. He retired
immediately; then they looked, and saw a heap of books and MSS. in
rolls left behind him--quaint, curious volumes, so to speak, yellow
with age and exposure, and suggestive of strange countries, and a
wisdom new, if not of more than golden worth. And they continued to
gaze and wonder at them, giving warrant to the intelligent forethought
of the Prince of India which sent Nilo in advance of his own entry.

Again the door was thrown open, and this time the Dean ushered the
Prince into the chamber, and conducted him toward the dais. Thrice the
foreigner prostrated himself; the last time within easy speaking
distance of His Majesty, who silently agreed with the observant
lookers-on, that he had never seen the salutations better executed.

"Rise, Prince of India," the Emperor said, blandly, and well pleased.

The Prince arose, and stood before him, his eyes downcast, his hands
upon his breast--suppliancy in excellent pantomime.

"Be not surprised, Prince of India, at the assemblage you behold." Thus
His Majesty proceeded. "Its presence is due, I declare to you, not so
much to design of mine as to the report the city has had of your former
audience, and the theme of which you then promised to discourse."
Without apparently noticing the low reverence in acknowledgment of the
compliment, he addressed himself to the body of listeners. "I regard it
courtesy to our noble Indian guest to advise you, my Lords of the
Court, and you, devotees of Christ and the Father, whose prayers are
now the chief stay of my empire, that he is present by my appointment.
On a previous occasion, he interested us--I speak of many of my very
honorable assistants in Government--he interested us, I say, with an
account of his resignation of the Kingship in his country, moved by a
desire to surrender himself exclusively to study of religion. Under my
urgency, he bravely declared he was neither Jew, Moslem, Hindoo,
Buddhist nor Christian; that his travels and investigation had led him
to a faith which he summed up by pronouncing the most holy name of God;
giving us to understand he meant the God to whom our hearts have long
been delivered. He also referred to the denominations into which
believers are divided, and said his one motive in life was the bringing
them together in united brotherhood; and as I cannot imagine a result
more desirable, provided its basis obtain the sanction of our
conscience, I will now ask him to proceed, if it be his pleasure, and
speak to us freely."

Again the visitor prostrated himself in his best oriental manner; after
which, moving backward, he went to the table and took a few minutes
arranging the books and rolls. The spectators availed themselves of the
opportunity to gratify their curiosity well as they could from mere
inspection of the man; and as the liberty was within his anticipations,
it gave him but slight concern.

We about know how he appeared to them. We remember his figure, low,
slightly stooped, and deficiently slender;--we remember the thin yet
healthful looking face, even rosy of cheek;--we can see him in his
pointed red slippers, his ample trousers of glossy white satin, his
long black gown, relieved at the collar and cuffs with fine laces, his
hair fallen on his shoulders, beard overflowing his breast;--we can
even see the fingers, transparent, singularly flexible in operation,
turning leaves, running down pages and smoothing them out, and placing
this roll or that book as convenience required, all so lithe, swift,
certain, they in a manner exposed the mind which controlled them. At
length, the preliminaries finished, the Prince raised his eyes, and
turned them slowly about--those large, deep, searching eyes--wells from
which, without discoverable effort, he drew magnetism at his pleasure.

He began simply, his voice distinct, and cast to make itself heard, and
not more.

"This"--his second finger was on a page of the large volume heretofore
described--"this is the Bible, the most Holy of Bibles. I call it the
rock on which your faith and mine are castled." There was a stretching
of necks to see, and he did not allow the sensation to pass.

"And more--it is one of the fifty copies of the Bible translated by
order of the first Constantine, under supervision of his minister
Eusebius, well known to you for piety and learning."

It seemed at first every Churchman was on his feet, but directly the
Emperor observed Scholarius and the Patriarch seated, the latter
diligently crossing himself. The excitement can be readily comprehended
by considering the assemblage and its composition of zealots and
relic-worshippers, and that, while the tradition respecting the fifty
copies was familiar, not a man there could have truly declared he had
ever seen one of them--so had they disappeared from the earth.

"These are Bibles, also," the speaker resumed, upon the restoration of
order--"Bibles sacred to those unto whom they were given as that
imperishable monument to Moses and David is to us; for they too are
Revelations from God--ay, the very same God! This is the _Koran_--and
these, the _Kings_ of the Chinese--and these, the _Avesta_ of the
Magians of Persia--and these, the _Sutras_ well preserved of
Buddha--and these, the _Vedas_ of the patient Hindoos, my countrymen."

He carefully designated each book and roll by placing his finger on it.

"I thank Your Majesty for the gracious words of introduction you were
pleased to give me. They set before my noble and most reverend auditors
my history and the subject of my discourse; leaving me, without wrong
to their understanding, or waste of time or words, to invite them to
think of the years it took to fit myself to read these Books--for so I
will term them--years spent among the peoples to whom they are divine.
And when that thought is in mind, stored there past loss, they will
understand what I mean by Religion, and the methods I adopted and
pursued for its study. Then also the value of the assertions I make can
be intelligently weighed.... This first--Have not all men hands and
eyes? We may not be able to read the future in our palms; but there is
no excuse for us if we do not at least see God in them. Similarity is
law, and the law of Nature is the will of God. Keep the argument with
you, O my Lord, for it is the earliest lesson I had from my travels....
Animals when called to, the caller being on a height over them, never
look for him above the level of their eyes; even so some men are
incapable of thinking of the mysteries hidden out of sight in the sky;
but it is not so with all; and therein behold the partiality of God.
The reason of the difference between the leaves of trees not of the
same species, is the reason of the inequality of genius among races of
men. The Infinite prefers variety because He is more certainly to be
perceived in it. At this stop now, my Lord, mark the second lesson of
my travels. God, wishing above all things to manifest Himself and His
character to all humanity, made choice amongst the races, selecting
those superior in genius, and intrusted them with special revelations;
whence we have the two kinds of religion, natural and revealed. Seeing
God in a stone, and worshipping it, is natural religion; the
consciousness of God in the heart, an excitant of love and gratitude
inexpressible except by prayer and hymns of praise--that, O my Lord, is
the work and the proof of revealed religion.... I next submit the third
of the lessons I have had; but, if I may have your attention to the
distinction, it is remarkable as derived from my reading"--here he
covered all the books on the table with a comprehensive gesture--"my
reading more than my travels; and I call it the purest wisdom because
it is not sentiment, at the same time that it is without so much as a
strain of philosophy, being a fact clear as any fact deducible from
history--yes, my Lord, clearer, more distinct, more positive, most
undeniable--an incident of the love the Universal Maker has borne his
noblest creatures from their first morning--a Godly incident which I
have had from the study of these Bibles in comparison with each other.
In brief, my Lord, a revelation not intended for me above the
generality of men; nevertheless a revelation to me, since I went
seeking it--or shall I call it a recompense for the crown and throne I
voluntarily gave away?"

The feeling the Prince threw into these words took hold of his
auditors. Not a few of them were struck with awe, somewhat as if he
were a saint or prophet, or a missionary from the dead returned with
secrets theretofore locked up fast in the grave. They waited for his
next saying--his third lesson, as he termed it--with anxiety.

"The Holy Father of Light and Life," the speaker went on, after a pause
referable to his consummate knowledge of men, "has sent His Spirit down
to the world, not once merely, or unto one people, but repeatedly, in
ages sometimes near together, sometimes wide apart, and to races
diverse, yet in every instance remarkable for genius."

There was a murmur at this, but he gave it no time.

"Ask you now how I could identify the Spirit so as to be able to
declare to you solemnly, as I do in fear of God, that in the several
repeated appearances of which I speak it was the very same Spirit? How
do you know the man you met at set of sun yesterday was the man you
saluted and had salute from this morning? Well, I tell you the Father
has given the Spirit features by which it may be known--features
distinct as those of the neighbors nearest you there at your right and
left hands. Wherever in my reading Holy Books, like these, I hear of a
man, himself a shining example of righteousness, teaching God and the
way to God, by those signs I say to my soul: 'Oh, the Spirit, the
Spirit! Blessed is the man appointed to carry it about!'"

Again the murmur, but again he passed on.

"The Spirit dwelt in the Holy of Holies set apart for it in the
Tabernacle; yet no man ever saw it there, a thing of sight. The soul is
not to be seen; still less is the Spirit of the Most High; or if one
did see it, its brightness would kill him. In great mercy, therefore,
it has always come and done its good works in the world veiled; now in
one form, now in another; at one time, a voice in the air; at another,
a vision in sleep; at another, a burning bush; at another, an angel; at
another, a descending dove"--

"Bethabara!" shouted a cowled brother, tossing both hands up.

"Be quiet!" the Patriarch ordered.

"Thus always when its errand was of quick despatch," the Prince
continued. "But if its coming were for residence on earth, then its
habit has been to adopt a man for its outward form, and enter into him,
and speak by him; such was Moses, such Elijah, such were all the
Prophets, and such"--he paused, then exclaimed shrilly--"such was Jesus
Christ!"

In his study at home, the Prince had undoubtedly thought out his
present delivery with the care due an occasion likely to be a
turning-point in his projects, if not his life; and it must at that
time have required of him a supreme effort of will to resolve upon this
climax; as it was, he hesitated, and turned the hue of ashes; none the
less his unknowing auditors renewed their plaudits. Even the Emperor
nodded approvingly. None of them divined the cunning of the speaker;
not one thought he was pledging himself by his applause to a kindly
hearing of the next point in the speech.

"Now, my Lord, he who lives in a close vale shut in by great mountains,
and goes not thence so much as to the top of one of the mountains, to
him the vastness and beauty of the world beyond his pent sky-line shall
be secret in his old age as they were when he was a child. He has
denied himself to them. Like him is the man who, thinking to know God,
spends his days reading one Holy Book. I care not if it be this
one"--he laid his finger on the _Avesta_--"or this one"--in the same
manner he signified the _Vedas_--"or this one"--touching the
_Koran_--"or this one"--laying his whole hand tenderly palm down on the
most Holy Bible. "He shall know God--yes, my Lord, but not all God has
done for men.... I have been to the mountain's top; that is to say, I
know these books, O reverend brethren, as you know the beads of your
rosaries and what each bead stands for. They did not teach me all there
is in the Infinite--I am in too much awe for such a folly of the
tongue--yet through them I know His Spirit has dwelt on earth in men of
different races and times; and whether the Spirit was the same Spirit,
I fear not leaving you to judge. If we find in those bearing it about
likenesses in ideas, aims, and methods--a Supreme God and an Evil One,
a Heaven and a Hell, Sin and a Way to Salvation, a Soul immortal
whether lost or saved--what are we to think? If then, besides these
likenesses, we find the other signs of divine authority, acknowledged
such from the beginning of the world--Mysteries of Birth, Sinlessness,
Sacrifices, Miracles done--which of you will rise in his place, and
rebuke me for saying there were Sons of God in Spirit before the Spirit
descended upon Jesus Christ? Nevertheless, that is what I say."

Here the Prince bent over the table pretending to be in search of a
page in the most Holy Book, while--if the expression be pardonable--he
watched the audience with his ears. He heard the rustle as the men
turned to each other in mute inquiry; he almost heard their question,
though they but looked it; otherwise, if it had been dark, the silence
would have been tomb-like. At length, raising his head, he beheld a
tall, gaunt, sallow person, clad in a monkish gown of the coarsest gray
wool, standing and looking at him; the eyes seemed two lights burning
in darkened depths; the air was haughty and menacing; and altogether he
could not avoid noticing the man. He waited, but the stranger silently
kept his feet.

"Your Majesty," the Prince began again, perfectly composed, "these are
but secondary matters; yet there is such light in them with respect to
my main argument, that I think best to make them good by proofs, lest
my reverend brethren dismiss me as an idler in words.... Behold the
Bible of the Bodhisattwa"--he held up a roll of broad-leafed vellum,
and turned it dextrously for better exhibition--"and hear, while I read
from it, of a Birth, Life and Death which took place a thousand and
twenty-seven years before Jesus Christ was born." And he read:

"'Strong and calm of purpose as the earth, pure in mind as the
water-lily, her name figuratively assumed, Maya, she was in truth above
comparison. On her in likeness as the heavenly queen the Spirit
descended. A mother, but free from grief or pain, she was without
deceit.'" The Prince stopped reading to ask: "Will not my Lord see in
these words a Mary also 'blessed above other women'?" Then he read on:
..."'And now the queen Maya knew her time for the birth had come. It
was the eighth day of the fourth moon, a serene and agreeable season.
While she thus religiously observed the rules of a pure discipline,
Bodhisattwa was born from her right side, come to deliver the world,
constrained by great pity, without causing his mother pain or
anguish.'" Again the Prince lifted his eyes from the roll. "What is
this, my Lord, but an Incarnation? Hear now of the Child: ... 'As one
born from recumbent space, and not through the gates of life, men
indeed regarded his exceeding great glory, yet their sight remained
uninjured; he allowed them to gaze, the brightness of his person
concealed for a time, as when we look upon the moon in heaven. His body
nevertheless was effulgent with light, and, like the sun which eclipses
the shining of the lamp, so the true gold-like beauty of Bodhisattwa
shone forth and was everywhere diffused. Upright and firm, and
unconfused in mind, he deliberately took seven steps, the soles of his
feet resting evenly upon the ground as he went, his footmarks remained
bright as seven stars. Moving like the lion, king of beasts, and
looking earnestly toward the four quarters, penetrating to the centre
the principles of truth, he spoke thus with the fullest assurance: This
birth is in the condition of Buddha; after this I have done with
renewed birth; _now only am I born this once, for the purpose of saving
all the world._'" A third time the Prince stopped, and, throwing up his
hand to command attention, he asked: "My Lord, who will say this was
not also a Redeemer? See now what next ensued"--and he read on: "'And
now from the midst of Heaven there descended two streams of pure water,
one warm, the other cold, and baptized his head.'" Pausing again, the
speaker searched the faces of his auditors on the right and left, while
he exclaimed in magnetic repetition: "Baptism--_Baptism_--BAPTISM AND
MIRACLE!"

Constantine sat, like the rest, his attention fixed; but the gray-clad
monk still standing grimly raised a crucifix before him as if taking
refuge behind it.

"My Lord is seeing the likenesses these things bear to the conception,
birth and mission of Jesus Christ, the later Blessed One, who is
nevertheless his first in love. He is comparing the incidents of the
two Incarnations of the Spirit or Holy Ghost; he is asking himself:
'Can there have been several Sons of God?' and he is replying: 'That
were indeed merciful--Blessed be God!'"

The Emperor made no sign one way or the other.

"Suffer me to help my Lord yet a little more," the Prince continued,
apparently unobservant of the lowering face behind the crucifix. "He
remembers angels came down the night of the nativity in the cave by
Bethlehem; he cannot forget the song they sung to the shepherds. How
like these honors to the Bodhisattwa!"--and he read from the roll: ...
"'Meanwhile the Devas'--angels, if my Lord pleases--'the Devas in
space, seizing their jewelled canopies, attending, raise in responsive
harmony their heavenly songs to encourage him.' Nor was this all, my
Lord," and he continued reading: "'On every hand the world was greatly
shaken.... The minutest atoms of sandal perfume, and the hidden
sweetness of precious lilies, floated on the air, and rose through
space, and then commingling came back to earth.... All cruel and
malevolent kinds of beings together conceived a loving heart; all
diseases and afflictions amongst men, without a cure applied, of
themselves were healed; the cries of beasts were hushed; the stagnant
waters of the river courses flowed apace; no clouds gathered on the
heavens, while angelic music, self-caused, was heard around.... So when
Bodhisattwa was born, he came to remove the sorrows of all living
things. Mara alone was grieved.' O my reverend brethren!" cried the
Prince, fervently, "who was this Mara that he should not share in the
rejoicing of all nature else? In Christian phrase, Satan, and Mara
alone was grieved."

"Do the likenesses stop with the births, my brethren are now asking.
Let us follow the Bodhisattwa. On reaching the stage of manhood, he
also retired into the wilderness. 'The valley of the Se-na was level
and full of fruit trees, with no noxious insects,' say these
Scriptures: 'and there he dwelt under a sala tree. And he fasted nigh
to death. The Devas offered him sweet dew, but he rejected it, and took
but a grain of millet a day.' Now what think you of this as a parallel
incident of his sojourn in the wilderness?" And he read: ... "'Mara
Devaraga, enemy of religion, alone was grieved, and rejoiced not. He
had three daughters, mincingly beautiful, and of a pleasant
countenance. With them, and all his retinue, he went to the grove of
"fortunate rest," vowing the world should not find peace, and
there'"--the Prince forsook the roll--"'and there he tempted
Bodhisattwa, and menaced him, a legion of devils assisting.' The
daughters, it is related, were changed to old women, and of the battle
this is written: ... 'And now the demon host waxed fiercer, and added
force to force, grasping at stones they could not lift, or lifting them
they could not let them go; their flying spears stuck fast in space
refusing to descend; the angry thunder-drops and mighty hail, with
them, were changed into five-colored lotus flowers; while the foul
poison of the dragon snakes was turned into spicy-breathing air'--and
Mara fled, say the Scriptures, fled gnashing his teeth, while
Bodhisattwa reposed peacefully under a fall of heavenly flowers." The
Prince, looking about him after this, said calmly: "Now judge I by
myself; not a heart here but hears in the intervals of its beating, the
text: 'Then was Jesus led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be
tempted of the devil'--and that other text: 'Then the devil leaveth
him, and behold, angels came and ministered unto him.' Verily, my Lord,
was not the Spirit the same Spirit, and did it not in both incarnations
take care of its own?"

Thereupon the Prince again sought for a page on the roll, watching the
while with his ears, and the audience drew long breaths, and rested
from their rigor of attention. Then also the Emperor spoke to the
Prince.

"I pray you, Prince of India, take a little rest. Your labor is of the
kind exhaustive to mind and body: and in thought of it, I ordered
refreshments for you and these, my other guests. Is not this a good
time to renew thyself?"

The Prince, rising from a low reverence, replied:

"Indeed Your Majesty has the kingly heart; but I pray you, in return,
hear me until I have brought the parallel, my present point of
argument, to an end; then I will most gladly avail myself of your great
courtesy; after which--your patience, and the goodwill of these
reverend fathers, holding on--I will resume and speedily finish my
discourse."

"As you will. We are most interested. Or"--and the Emperor, glancing
over toward the monk on his feet, said coldly: "Or, if my declaration
does not fairly vouch the feeling of all present, those objecting have
permission to retire upon the adjournment. We will hear you, Prince."

The ascetic answered by lifting his crucifix higher. Then, having found
the page he wanted, the Prince, holding his finger upon it, proceeded:

"It would not become me, my Lord, to assume an appearance of teaching
you and this audience, most learned in the Gospels, concerning them,
especially the things said by the Blessed One of the later Incarnation,
whom we call The Christ. We all know the Spirit for which he was both
habitation and tongue, came down to save the world from sin and hell;
we also know what he required for the salvation. So, even so, did
Bodhisattwa. Listen to him now--he is talking to his Disciples: ... 'I
will teach you,' he said, to the faithful Ananda, 'a way of Truth,
called the Mirror of Truth, which, if an elect disciple possess, he may
himself predict of himself, "Hell is destroyed for me, and rebirth as
an animal, or a ghost, or any place of woe. I am converted. I am no
longer liable to be reborn in a state of suffering, and am assured of
final salvation."'... Ah, Your Majesty is asking, will the parallel
never end? Not yet, not yet! For the Bodhisattwa did miracles as well.
I read again: ... 'And the Blessed One came once to the river Ganges,
and found it overflowing. Those with him, designing to cross, began to
seek for boats, some for rafts of wood, while some made rafts of
basket-work. Then the Blessed One, as instantaneously as a strong man
would stretch forth his arm and draw it back again when he had
stretched it forth, vanished from this side of the river, and stood on
the further bank with the company of his brethren.'"

The stir the quotation gave rise to being quieted, the Prince, quitting
the roll, said: "Like that, my Lord, was the Bodhisattwa's habit on
entering assemblies of men, to become of their color--he, you remember,
was from birth of the color of gold just flashed in the crucible--and
in a voice like theirs instructing them. Then, say the Scriptures,
they, not knowing him, would ask, Who may this be that speaks? A man or
a God? Then he would vanish away. Like that again was his purifying the
water which had been stirred up by the wheels of five hundred carts
passing through it. He was thirsty, and at his bidding his companion
filled a cup, and lo! the water was clear and delightful. Still more
decided, when he was dying there was a mighty earthquake, and the
thunders of heaven broke forth, and the spirits stood about to see him
until there was no spot, say the Scriptures, in size even as the
pricking of the point of the tip of a hair not pervaded with them; and
he saw them, though they were invisible to his disciples; and then when
the last reverence of his five hundred brethren was paid at his feet,
the pyre being ready, it took fire of itself, and there was left of his
body neither soot nor ashes--only the bones for relics. Then, again, as
the pyre had kindled itself, so when the body was burned up streams of
water descended from the skies, and other streams burst from the earth,
and extinguished the fire. Finally, my Lord, the parallel ends in the
modes of death. Bodhisattwa chose the time and place for himself, and
the circumstances of his going were in harmony with his heavenly
character. Death was never arrayed in such beauty. The twin Sala trees,
one at the head of his couch, the other at the foot, though out of
season, sprinkled him with their flowers, and the sky rained powder of
sandal-wood, and trembled softly with the incessant music and singing
of the floating Gandharvis. But he whose soul was the Spirit, last
incarnate, the Christ"--the Prince stopped--the blood forsook his
face--he took hold of the table to keep from falling--and the audience
arose in alarm.

"Look to the Prince!" the Emperor commanded.

Those nearest the ailing man offered him their arms, but with a mighty
effort he spoke to them naturally: "Thank you, good friends--it is
nothing." Then he said louder: "It is nothing, my Lord--it is gone now.
I was about to say of the Christ, how different was his dying, and with
that ends the parallel between him and the Bodhisattwa as Sons of
God.... Now, if it please Your Majesty, I will not longer detain your
guests from the refreshments awaiting them."

A chair was brought for him; and when he was seated, a long line of
servants in livery appeared with the collation.

In a short time the Prince was himself again. The mention of the
Saviour, in connection with his death, had suddenly projected the scene
of the Crucifixion before him, and the sight of the Cross and the
sufferer upon it had for the moment overcome him.




CHAPTER XVI

HOW THE NEW FAITH WAS RECEIVED


It had been better for the Prince of India if he had not consented to
the intermission graciously suggested by the Emperor. The monk with the
hollow eyes who had arisen and posed behind his crucifix, like an
exorcist, was no other than George Scholarius, whom, for the sake of
historical conformity, we shall from this call Gennadius; and far from
availing himself of His Majesty's permission to retire, that person was
observed to pass industriously from chair to chair circulating some
kind of notice. Of the refreshments he would none; his words were few,
his manner earnest; and to him, beyond question, it was due that when
order was again called, the pleasure the Prince drew from seeing every
seat occupied was dashed by the scowling looks which met him from all
sides. The divining faculty, peculiarly sharpened in him, apprised him
instantly of an influence unfriendly to his project--a circumstance the
more remarkable since he had not as yet actually stated any project.

Upon taking the floor, the Prince placed the large Judean Bible before
him opened, and around it his other references, impressing the audience
with an idea that in his own view the latter were of secondary
importance.

"My Lord, and Reverend Sirs," he began, with a low salutation to the
Emperor, "the fulness of the parallel I have run between the
Bodhisattwa, Son of Maya, and Jesus Christ, Son of Mary, may lead to a
supposition that they were the only Blessed Ones who have appeared in
the world honored above men because they were chosen for the
Incarnation of the Spirit. In these Scriptures," unrolling the _Sutra_
or _Book of the Great Decease_--"frequent statements imply a number of
Tathagatas or Buddhas of irregular coming. In this"--putting a finger
on a Chinese _King_--"time is divided into periods termed _Kalpas_, and
in one place it is said ninety-eight Buddhas illuminated one Kalpa
[Footnote: EAKIN'S Chinese Buddhism, 14.]--that is, came and taught as
Saviours. Nor shall any man deny the Spirit manifest in each of them
was the same Spirit. They preached the same holy doctrine, pointed out
the same road to salvation, lived the same pure unworldly lives, and
all alike made a declaration of which I shall presently speak; in other
words, my Lord, the features of the Spirit were the same in all of
them.... Here in these rolls, parts of the Sacred Books of the East, we
read of Shun. I cannot fix his days, they were so long ago. Indeed, I
only know he must have been an adopted of the Spirit by his leaving
behind him the Tao, or Law, still observed among the Chinese as their
standard of virtue.... Here also is the _Avesta_, most revered remains
of the Magi, from whom, as many suppose, the Wise Men who came up to
Jerusalem witnesses of the birth of the new King of the Jews were
sent." This too he identified with his finger. "Its teacher is
Zarathustra, and, in my faith, the Spirit descended upon him and abode
with him while he was on the earth. The features all showed themselves
in him--in his life, his instruction, and in the honors paid him
through succeeding generations. His religion yet lives, though founded
hundreds of years before your gentle Nazarene walked the waters of
Galilee.... And here, O my Lord, is a book abhorred by Christians"--he
laid his whole hand on the Koran--"How shall it be judged? By the
indifferent manner too many of those ready to die defending its divine
origin observe it? Alas! What religion shall survive that test? In the
visions of Mahomet I read of God, Moses, the Patriarchs--nay, my Lord,
I read of him called the Christ. Shall we not beware lest in condemning
Mahomet we divest this other Bible"--he reverently touched the great
Eusebian volume--"of some of its superior holiness? He calls himself a
Prophet. Can a man prophesy except he have in him the light of the
Spirit?"

The question awoke the assemblage. A general signing of the Cross was
indulged in by the Fathers, and there was groaning hard to distinguish
from growls. Gennadius kept his seat, nervously playing with his
rosary. The countenance of the Patriarch was unusually grave. In all
his experience it is doubtful if the Prince ever touched a subject
requiring more address than this dealing with the Koran. He resumed
without embarrassment:

"Now, my Lord, I shall advance a step nearer my real subject. Think
not, I pray, that the things I have spoken of the Bodhisattwa, of Shun,
of Zarathustra, of Mahomet, likening them in their entertainment of the
Spirit to Jesus, was to excite comparisons; such as which was the
holiest, which did the most godly things, which is most worthy to be
accounted the best beloved of the Father; for I come to bury all strife
of the kind.... I said I had been to the mountain's top; and now, my
Lord, did you demand of me to single out and name the greatest of the
wonders I thence beheld, I should answer: Neither on the sea, nor on
the land, nor in the sky is there a wonder like unto the perversity
which impels men to invent and go on inventing religions and sects, and
then persecute each other on account of them. And when I prayed to be
shown the reason of it, I thought I heard a voice, 'Open thine
eyes--See!' ... And the first thing given me to see was that the
Blessed Ones who went about speaking for the Spirit which possessed
them were divine; yet they walked the earth, not as Gods, but witnesses
of God; asking hearing and belief, not worship; begging men to come
unto them as guides sent to show them the only certain way to
everlasting life in glory--only that and nothing more.... The next
thing I saw, a bright light in a white glass set on a dark hill, was
the waste of worship men are guilty of in bestowing it on inferior and
often unworthy objects. When Jesus prayed, it was to our Father in
Heaven, was it not?--meaning not to himself, or anything human, or
anything less than human.... One other thing I was permitted to see;
and the reserving it last is because it lies nearest the proposal I
have come a great distance to submit to my Lord and these most reverend
brethren in holiness. Every place I have been in which men are not left
to their own imaginings of life and religion--in every land and island
touched by revelation--a supreme God is recognized, the same in
qualities--Creator, Protector, Father--Infinite in Power, Infinite in
Love--the Indivisible One! Asked you never, my Lord, the object he had
in intrusting his revelation to us, and why the Blessed Ones, his Sons
in the Spirit, were bid come here and go yonder by stony paths? Let me
answer with what force is left me. There is in such permissions but one
intention which a respectful mind can assign to a being great and good
as God--one altar, one worship, one prayer, and He the soul of them.
With a flash of his beneficent thought he saw in one religion peace
amongst men. Strange--most strange! In human history no other such
marvel! There has been nothing so fruitful of bickering, hate, murder
and war. Such is the seeming, and so I thought, my Lord, until on the
mountain's highest peak, whence all concerns lie in view below, I
opened my eyes and perceived the wrestling of tongues and fighting were
not about God, but about forms, and immaterialities, more especially
the Blessed Ones to whom he had intrusted his Spirit. From the
Ceylonesian: 'Who is worthy praise but Buddha?' 'No,' the Islamite
answers: 'Who but Mahomet?' And from the Parsee; 'No--Who but
Zarathustra?' 'Have done with your vanities,' the Christian thunders:
'Who has told the truth like Jesus?' Then the flame of swords, and the
cruelty of blows--all in God's name!"

This was bold speaking.

"And now, my Lord," the Prince went on, his appearance of exceeding
calmness belied only by the exceeding brightness of his eyes, "God
wills an end to controversy and wars blasphemously waged in his name,
and I am sent to tell you of it; and for that the Spirit is in me."

Here Gennadius again arose, crucifix in hand.

"I am returned from visiting many of the nations," the Prince
continued, nothing daunted. "They demanded of me a faith broad enough
for them to stand upon while holding fast the lesser ideas grown up in
their consciences; and, on my giving them such a faith, they said they
were ready to do the will, but raised a new condition. Some one must
move first. 'Go find that one,' they bade me, 'and we will follow
after.' In saying now I am ambassador appointed to bring the affair to
Your Majesty and Your Majesty's people, enlightened enough to see the
will of the Supreme Master, and of a courage to lead in the movement,
with influence and credit to carry it peacefully forward to a glorious
end, I well know how idle recommendation and entreaty are except I
satisfy you in the beginning that they have the sanction of Heaven; and
thereto now.... I take no honor to myself as author of the faith
presented in answer to the demand of the nations. In old cities there
are houses under houses, along streets underlying streets, and to find
them, the long buried, men dig deep and laboriously; that did I, until
in these old Testaments"--he cast a loving glance at all the Sacred
Books--"I made a precious discovery. I pray Your Majesty's patience
while I read from them.... This from the Judean Bible: 'And God said
unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, This shalt thou say unto the
children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.' Thus did God, of whom
we have no doubt, name himself to one chosen race.... Next from a holy
man of China who lived nearly five hundred years before the Christ was
born: 'Although any one be a bad man, if he fasts and is collected, he
may indeed offer sacrifices unto God.' [Footnote: FABER'S _Mind of
Mencius_]... And from the _Avesta_, this of the creed of the Magi: 'The
world is twofold, being the work of Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu: all
that is good in the world comes from the First Principle (which is God)
and all that is bad from the latter (which is Satan). Angra Mainyu
invaded the world after it was made by Ahura Mazda and polluted it, but
the conflict will some day end.' [Footnote: Sir William Jones.] The
First Principle here is God. But most marvellous, because of the
comparison it will excite, hearken to this from the same Magian creed:
'When the time is full, a son of the lawgiver still unborn, named
Saoshyant, will appear; then Angra Mainyu (Satan) and Hell will be
destroyed, men will arise from the dead, and everlasting happiness
reign over the world.' Here again the Lawgiver is God; but the Son--who
is he? Has he come? Is he gone? ... Next, take these several things
from the _Vedas_: 'By One Supreme Ruler is the universe pervaded, even
every world in the whole circle of nature. There is One Supreme Spirit
which nothing can shake, more swift than the thought of man. The
Primeval Mover even divine intelligence cannot reach; that Spirit,
though unmoved, infinitely transcends others, how rapid soever their
course; it is distant from us, yet very near; it pervades the whole
system of worlds, yet is infinitely beyond it.' [Footnote: _Ibid._ Vol.
XIII.] Now, my Lord, and very reverend sirs, do not the words quoted
come to us clean of mystery? Or have you the shadow of a doubt whom
they mean, accept and consider the prayer I read you now from the same
_Vedas:_ 'O Thou who givest sustenance to the world, Thou sole mover of
all, Thou who restrainest sinners, who pervadest yon great luminary
which appearest as the Son of the Creator; hide thy struggling beams
and expand thy spiritual brightness that I may view thy most
auspicious, most glorious, real form. OM, remember me, divine Spirit!
OM, remember my deeds! Let my soul return to the immortal Spirit of
God, and then let my body, which ends in ashes, return to dust.' Who is
OM? Or is my Lord yet uncertain, let him heed this from the _Holiest
Verse of the Vedas_: 'Without hand or foot, he runs rapidly, and grasps
firmly; without eyes, he sees; without ears, he hears all; he knows
whatever can be known, but there is none who knows him: Him the wise
call the Great, Supreme, Pervading Spirit.' [Footnote: Sir William
Jones. Vol. XIII.] ... Now once more, O my Lord, and I am done with
citation and argument. Ananda asked the Bodhisattwa what was the Mirror
of Truth, and he had this answer: 'It is the consciousness that the
elect disciple is in this world possessed of faith in Buddha, believing
the Blessed One to be the Holy One, the Fully Enlightened One, Wise,
Upright, Happy, World-knowing, Supreme, the bridler of men's wayward
hearts, the Teacher of Gods and men--the Blessed Buddha.' [Footnote:
REHYS DAVID'S _Buddhist Sutras_.] Oh, good my Lord, a child with
intellect barely to name the mother who bore him, should see and say,
Here God is described!" ...

The Prince came to a full stop, and taking a fine silken cloth from a
pocket in his gown, he carefully wiped the open pages of the Eusebian
Bible, and shut it. Of the other books he made a separate heap, first
dusting each of them. The assemblage watched him expectantly. The
Fathers had been treated to strange ideas, matter for thought through
many days and nights ahead; still each of them felt the application was
wanting. "The purpose--give it us--and quickly!" would have been a fair
expression of their impatience. At length he proceeded:

"Dealing with children, my Lord, and reverend sirs," he began, "it is
needful to stop frequently, and repeat the things we have said; but you
are men trained in argument: wherefore, with respect to the faith asked
of me as I have told you by the nations, I say simply it is God; and
touching his sanction of it, you may wrest these Testaments from me and
make ashes of them, but you shall not now deny his approval of the
Faith I bring you. It is not in the divine nature for God to abjure
himself. Who of you can conceive him shrunk to so small a measure?"

The dogmatic vehemence amazed the listeners.

"Whether this idea of God is broad enough to accommodate all the
religions grown up on the earth, I will not argue; for I desire to be
most respectful"--thus the speaker went on in his natural manner. "But
should you accept it as enough, you need not be at loss for a form in
which to put it. 'Master,' the lawyer asked, 'which is the great
commandment in the law?' And the Master answered: 'Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all
thy mind;' and he added: 'This is the first and great commandment.' My
Lord, no man else ever invented, nor shall any man ever invent an
expression more perfectly definitive of the highest human duty--the
total of doctrine. I will not tell you who the master uttering it was;
neither will I urge its adoption; only if the world were to adopt it,
and abide by it, there would be an end to wars and rumors of war, and
God would have his own. If the Church here in your ancient capital were
first to accept it, what happiness I should have carrying the glad
tidings to the peoples"--

The Prince was not allowed to finish the sentence.

"What do I understand, O Prince, by the term 'total of doctrine'?"

It was the Patriarch speaking.

"Belief in God."

In a moment the assemblage became uproarious, astounding the Emperor;
and in the midst of the excitement, Gennadius was seen on tip-toe,
waving his crucifix with the energy of command.

"Question--a question!" he cried.

Quiet was presently given him.

"In thy total of doctrine, what is Jesus Christ?"

The voice of the Patriarch, enfeebled by age and disease, had been
scarcely heard; his rival's penetrated to the most distant corner; and
the question happening to be the very thought pervading the assemblage,
the churchmen, the courtiers, and most of the high officials arose to
hear the reply.

In a tone distinct as his interlocutor's, but wholly without passion,
the master actor returned:

"A Son of God."

"And Mahomet, the Father of Islam--what is he?"

If the ascetic had put the name of Siddartha, the Bodhisattwa, in his
second question, his probing had not been so deep, nor the effect so
quick and great; but Mahomet, the camel-driver! Centuries of feud,
hate, crimination, and wars--rapine, battles, sieges, massacres,
humiliations, lopping of territory, treaties broken, desecration of
churches, spoliation of altars, were evoked by the name Mahomet.

We have seen it a peculiarity of the Prince of India never to forget a
relation once formed by him. Now behind Constantine he beheld young
Mahommed waiting for him--Mahommed and revenge. If his scheme were
rejected by the Greeks, very well--going to the Turks would be the old
exchange with which he was familiar, Cross for Crescent. To be sure
there was little time to think this; nor did he think it--it appeared
and went a glare of light--and he answered:

"He will remain, in the Spirit another of the Sons of God."

Then Gennadius, beating the air with his crucifix:
"Liar--impostor--traitor! Ambassador of Satan thou! Behind thee Hell
uncurtained! Mahomet himself were more tolerable! Thou mayst turn black
white, quench water with fire, make ice of the blood in our hearts, all
in a winking or slowly, our reason resisting, but depose the pure and
blessed Saviour, or double his throne in the invisible kingdom with
Mahomet, prince of liars, man of blood, adulterer, monster for whom
Hell had to be enlarged--that shalt thou never! A body without a soul,
an eye its light gone out, a tomb rifled of its dead--such the Church
without its Christ! ... Ho, brethren! Shame on us that we are guests in
common with this fiend in cunning! We are not hosts to bid him begone;
yet we can ourselves begone. Follow me, O lovers of Christ and the
Church! To your tents, O Israel!"

The speaker's face was purple with passion; his voice filled the
chamber; many of the monks broke from their seats and rushed howling
and blindly eager to get nearer him. The Patriarch sat ashy white,
helplessly crossing himself. Constantine excellently and rapidly
judging what became him as Emperor and host, sent four armed officers
to protect the Prince, who held his appointed place apparently
surprised but really interested in the scene--to him it was an
exhibition of unreasoning human nature replying to an old-fashioned
impulse of bigotry.

Hardly were the guards by the table, when Gennadius rushed past going
to the door, the schismatics at his heels in a panic. The pulling and
hauling, the hurry-skurry of the mad exit must be left to the
imagination. It was great enough to frighten thoroughly the attendants
of the Princess Irene. Directly there remained in the chamber with His
Majesty, the attaches of the court, the Patriarch and his adherents.
Then Constantine quietly asked:

"Where is Duke Notaras?"

There was much looking around, but no response.

The countenance of the monarch was observed to change, but still
mindful, he bade the Dean conduct the Prince to him.

"Be not alarmed, Prince. My people are quick of temper, and sometimes
they act hastily. If you have more to say, we are of a mind to hear you
to the end."

The Prince could not but admire the composure of his august host. After
a low reverence, he returned:

"Perhaps I tried the reverend Fathers unreasonably; yet it would be a
much greater grief to me if their impatience extended to Your Majesty.
I was not alarmed; neither have I aught to add to my discourse, unless
it pleases you to ask of anything in it which may have been left
obscure or uncertain."

Constantine signed to the Patriarch and all present to draw nearer.

"Good Dean, a chair for His Serenity."

In a short time the space in front of the dais was occupied.

"I understand the Prince of India has submitted to us a proposal
looking to a reform of our religion," His Majesty said, to the
Patriarch; "and courtesy requiring an answer, the violence to which we
have just been subjected, and the spirit of insubordination manifested,
make it imperative that you listen to what I now return him, and with
attention, lest a misquotation or false report lead to further
trouble.... Prince," he continued, "I think I comprehend you. The world
is sadly divided with respect to religion, and out of its divisions
have proceeded the mischiefs to which you have referred. Your project
is not to be despised. It reminds me of the song, the sweetest ear ever
listened to--'Peace and good will toward men.' Its adoption,
nevertheless, is another matter. I have not power to alter the worship
of my empire. Our present Creed was a conclusion reached by a Council
too famous in history not to be conspicuously within your knowledge.
Every word of it is infinitely sacred. It fixed the relations between
God the Father, Christ the Son, and men to my satisfaction, and that of
my subjects. Serenity, do thou say if I may apply the remark to the
Church."

"Your Majesty," the Patriarch replied, "the Holy Greek Church can never
consent to omit the Lord Jesus Christ from its worship. You have spoken
well, and it had been better if the brethren had remained to hear you."

"Thanks, O most venerated--thanks," said the Emperor, inclining his
head. "A council having established the creed of the Church," he
resumed, to the Prince of India, "the creed is above change to the
extent of a letter except by another council solemnly and
authoritatively convoked. Wherefore, O Prince, I admit myself wiser of
the views you have presented; I admit having been greatly entertained
by your eloquence and rhetoric; and I promise myself further happiness
and profit in drawing upon the stores of knowledge with which you
appear so amply provided, results doubtless of your study and
travel--yet you have my answer."

The faculty of retiring his thoughts and feelings deeper in his heart
as occasion demanded, was never of greater service to the Prince than
now; he bowed, and asked if he had permission to retire; and receiving
it, he made the usual prostrations, and began moving backwards.

"A moment, Prince," said Constantine. "I hope your residence is
permanently fixed in our capital."

"Your Majesty is very gracious, and I thank you. If I leave the city,
it will be to return again, and speedily."

At the door of the palace the Prince found an escort waiting for him,
and taking his chair, he departed from Blacherne.




CHAPTER XVII

LAEL AND THE SWORD OF SOLOMON


Alone in his house, the Prince of India was unhappy, but not, as the
reader may hurriedly conclude, on account of the rejection by the
Christians of his proposal looking to brotherhood in the bonds of
religion. He was a trifle sore over the failure, but not disappointed.
A reasonable man, and, what times his temper left him liberty to think,
a philosopher, he could not hope after the observations he brought from
Mecca to find the followers of the Nazarene more relaxed in their faith
than the adherents of Mahomet. In short, he had gone to the palace
warned of what would happen.

It was not an easy thing for him to fold up his grand design
preparatory to putting it away forever; still there was no choice left
him; and now he would move for vengeance. Away with hesitation.

Descending the heights of Blacherne, he had felt pity for Constantine
who, though severely tried in the day's affair, had borne himself with
dignity throughout; but it was Mahommed's hour. Welcome Mahommed!

Between the two, the Prince's predilections were all for the Turk, and
they had been from the meeting at the White Castle. Besides personal
accomplishments and military prestige, besides youth, itself a mighty
preponderant, there was the other argument--separating Mahommed from
the strongest power in the world, there stood only an ancient whose
death was a daily expectation. "What opportunities the young man will
have to offer me! I have but to make the most of his ambition--to loan
myself to it--to direct it."

Thus the Seer reasoned, returning from Blacherne to his house.

At the door, however, he made a discovery. There the first time during
the day he thought of her in all things the image of the Lael whom he
had buried under the great stone in front of the Golden Gate at
Jerusalem. We drop a grain in the ground, and asking nothing of us but
to be let alone, it grows, and flowers, and at length amazes us with
fruit. Such had been the outcome of his adoption of the daughter of the
son of Jahdai.

The Prince called Syama.

"Make ready the chair and table on the roof," he said.

While waiting, he ate some bread dipped in wine: then walked the room
rubbing his hands as if washing them.

He sighed frequently. Even the servants could see he was in trouble.

At length he went to the roof. Evening was approaching. On the table
were the lamp, the clock, the customary writing materials, a fresh map
of the heavens, and a perfect diagram of a nativity to be cast.

He took the map in his hand, and smiled--it was Lael's work. "How she
has improved!--and how rapidly!" he said aloud, ending a retrospect
which began with the hour Uel consented to her becoming his daughter.
She was unlettered then, but how helpful now. He felt an artist's pride
in her growth in knowledge. There were tedious calculations which she
took off his hands; his geometrical drawings of the planets in their
Houses were frequently done in haste; she perfected them next day. She
had numberless daughterly ways which none but those unused to them like
him would have observed. What delight she took in watching the sky for
the first appearance of the stars. In this work she lent him her young
eyes, and there was such enthusiasm in the exclamations with which she
greeted the earliest wink of splendor from the far-off orbs. And he had
ailing days; then she would open the great Eusebian Scriptures at the
page he asked for, and read--sometimes from Job, sometimes from Isaiah,
but generally from Exodus, for in his view there was never man like
Moses. The contest with Pharaoh--how prodigious! The battles in
magic--what glory in the triumphs won! The luring the haughty King into
the Red Sea, and bringing him under the walls of water suddenly let
loose! What majestic vengeance!

Of the idle dreams of aged persons the possibility of attaching the
young to them in sentimental bonds of strength to insure resistance to
every other attachment is the idlest. Positive, practical, experienced
though he was, the childless man had permitted this fantasy to get
possession of him. He actually brought himself to believe Lael's love
of him was of that enduring kind. With no impure purpose, yet
selfishly, and to bring her under his influence until of preference she
could devote her life to him, with its riches of affection, admiration,
and dutiful service, he had surrendered himself to her; therefore the
boundless pains taken by him personally in her education, the
surrounding her with priceless luxuries which he alone could afford--in
brief, the attempt to fasten himself upon her youthful fancy as a
titled sage and master of many mysteries. So at length it came to pass,
while he was happy in his affection for her, he was even happier in her
affection for himself; indeed he cultivated the latter sentiment and
encouraged it in winding about his being until, in utter
unconsciousness, he belonged to it, and, in repetition of experiences
common to others, instead of Lael's sacrificing herself for him, he was
ready to sacrifice everything for her. This was the discovery he made
at the door of his house.

The reader should try to fancy him in the chair by the table on the
roof. Evening has passed into night. The city gives out no sound, and
the stars have the heavens to themselves. He is lost in thought--or
rather, accepting the poetic fancy of a division of the heart into
chambers, in that apartment of the palpitating organ of the Prince of
India supposed to be the abode of the passions, a very noisy parliament
was in full session. The speaker--that is, the Prince
himself--submitted the question: Shall I remain here, or go to Mahommed?

Awhile he listened to Revenge, whose speech in favor of the latter
alternative may be imagined; and not often had its appeals been more
effective. Ambition spoke on the same side. It pointed out the
opportunities offered, and dwelt upon them until the chairman nodded
like one both convinced and determined. These had an assistant not
exactly a passion but a kinsman collaterally--Love of Mischief--and
when the others ceased, it insisted upon being heard.

On the other side, Lael led the opposition. She stood by the
president's chair while her opponents were arguing, her arms round his
neck; when they were most urgent, she would nurse his hand, and make
use of some trifling endearment; upon their conclusion, she would gaze
at him mutely, and with tears. Not once did she say anything.

In the midst of this debate, Lael herself appeared, and kissed him on
the forehead.

"Thou here!" he said.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Nothing--only"--

She did not give him time to finish, but caught up the map, and seeing
it fresh and unmarked, exclaimed:

"You did so greatly to-day, you ought to rest."

He was surprised.

"Did so greatly?"

"At the palace."

"Put the paper down. Now, O my Gul Bahar"--and he took her hand, and
carried it to his cheek, and pressed it softly there--"deal me no
riddle. What is it you say? One may do well, yet come out badly."

"I was at the market in my father Uel's this afternoon," she began,
"when Sergius came in."

A face wonderfully like the face of the man he helped lead out to
Golgotha flashed before the Prince, a briefest passing gleam.

"He heard you discourse before the Emperor. How wickedly that
disgusting Gennadius behaved!"

"Yes," the Prince responded darkly, "a sovereign beset with such
spirits is to be pitied. But what did the young man think of my
proposal to the Emperor?"

"But for one verse in the Testament of Christ"--

"Nay, dear, say Jesus of Nazareth."

"Well, of Jesus--but for one verse he could have accepted your argument
of many Sons of God in the Spirit."

"What is the verse?"

"It is where a disciple speaks of Jesus as the only begotten. Son."

The Wanderer smiled.

"The young man is too literal. He forgets that the Only Begotten Son
may have had many Incarnations."

"The Princess Irene was also present," Lael went on. "Sergius said she
too could accept your argument did you alter it"--

"Alter it!"--A bitter look wrung the Prince's countenance--"Sergius, a
monk not yet come to orders, and Irene, a Princess without a husband.
Oh, a small return for my surrender! ... I am tired--very tired," he
said impatiently--"and I have so much, so much to think of. Come, good
night."

"Can I do nothing for you?"

"Yes, tell Syama to bring me some water."

"And wine?"

"Yes, some wine."

"Very well. Good night."

He drew her to his breast.

"Good night. O my Gul Bahar!"

She went lightly away, never dreaming of the parliament to which she
left him.

When she was gone, he sat motionless for near an hour, seeing nothing
in the time, although Syama set water and wine on the table. And it may
be questioned if he heard anything, except the fierce debate going on
in his heart. Finally he aroused, looked at the sky, arose, and walked
around the table; and his expression of face, his actions, were those
of a man who had been treading difficult ground, but was safely come
out of it. Filling a small crystal cup, and holding the red liquor,
rich with garnet sparkles, between his eyes and the lamp, he said:

"It is over. She has won. If there were for me but the years of one
life, the threescore and ten of the Psalmist, it had been different.
The centuries will bring me a Mahommed gallant as this one, and
opportunities great as he offers; but never another Lael. Farewell
Ambition! Farewell Revenge! The world may take care of itself. I will
turn looker-on, and be amused, and sleep.... To hold her, I will live
for her, but in redoubled state. So will I hurry her from splendor to
splendor, and so fill her days with moving incidents, she shall not
have leisure to think of another love. I will be powerful and famous
for her sake. Here in this old centre of civilization there shall be
two themes for constant talk, Constantine and myself. Against his rank
and patronage, I will set my wealth. Ay, for her sake! And I will begin
to-morrow."

The next day he spent in making drawings and specifications for a
palace. The second day he traversed the city looking for a building
site. The third day he bought the site most to his fancy. The fourth
day he completed a design for a galley of a hundred oars, that it might
be sea-going far as the Pillars of Hercules. Nothing ever launched from
the imperial docks should surpass it in magnificence. When he went
sailing on the Bosphorus, Byzantium should assemble to witness his
going, and with equal eagerness wait the day through to behold him
return. And for the four days, Lael was present and consulted in every
particular. They talked like two children.

The schemes filled him with a delight which would have been remarkable
in a boy. He packed his books and put away his whole paraphernalia of
study--through Lael's days he would be an actor in the social world,
not a student.

Of course he recurred frequently to the engagements with Mahommed. They
did not disturb him. The Turk might clamor--no matter, there was the
ever ready answer about the unready stars. The veteran intriguer even
laughed, thinking how cunningly he had provided against contingencies.
But there was a present practical requirement begotten of these
schemes--he must have money--soldans by the bag full.

Very early in the morning of the fifth day, having studied the weather
signs from his housetop, he went with Nilo to the harbor gate of
Blacherne, seeking a galley suitable for an outing of a few days on the
Marmora. He found one, and by noon she was fitted out, and with him and
Nilo aboard, flying swiftly around Point Serail.

Under an awning over the rudder-deck, he sat observing the brown-faced
wall of the city, and the pillars and cornices of the noble structures
towering above it. As the vessel was about passing the Seven Towers,
now a ruin with a most melancholy history, but in that day a
well-garrisoned fortress, he conversed with the master of the galley.

"I have no business in the strict meaning of the term," he said, in
good humor. "The city has become tiresome to me, and I have fancied a
run on the water would be bracing to body and restful to mind. So keep
on down the sea. When I desire a change of direction, I will tell you."
The mariner was retiring. "Stay," the Prince continued, his attention
apparently caught by two immense gray rocks rising bluffly out of the
blue rippling in which the Isles of the Princes seemed afloat--"What
are those yonder? Islands, of course, but their names?"

"Oxia and Plati--the one nearest us is Oxia."

"Are they inhabited?"

"Yes and no," the captain replied, smiling. "Oxia used to have a
convent, but it is abandoned now. There may be some hermits in the
caves on the other side, but I doubt if the poor wretches have noumias
to keep their altars in candles. It was so hard to coax visitors into
believing God had ever anything to do with the dreary place that
patrons concluded to give it over to the bad. Plati is a trifle more
cheerful. Three or four monks keep what used to be the prison there;
but they are strays from unknown orders, and live by herding a few
starving goats and cultivating snails for the market."

"Have you been on either of them recently?"

"Yes, on Plati."

"When?"

"Within the year."

"Well, you excite my curiosity. It is incredible that there can be two
such desolations in such close vicinity to yon famous capital. Turn and
row me around them."

The captain was pleased to gratify his passenger, and stood by him
while the galley encircled Oxia, telling legends, and pointing out the
caves to which celebrated anchorites had lent their names. He gave in
full the story of Basil and Prusien, who quarrelled, and fought a duel
to the scandal of the Church; whereupon Constantine VIII., then
emperor, exiled them, the former to Oxia, the latter to Plati, where
their sole consolation the remainder of their lives was gazing at each
other from the mouths of their respective caverns. For some reason,
Plati, to which he next crossed, was of more interest to the Prince
than its sister isle. What a cruel exterior the prison at the north end
had! Wolves and bats might live in it, but men--impossible! He drew
back horrified when told circumstantially of the underground cells.

While yet on the eastern side, the passenger said he would like to go
up to the summit.

"There," he exclaimed, pointing to a part of the bluff which appeared
to offer a climb, "put me on that shelving rock. I think I can go up by
it."

The small boat was lowered, and directly he set foot on the identical
spot which received him when, in the night fifty-six years before, he
made the ascent with the treasures of Hiram King of Tyre.

Almost any other man would have given at least a thought to that
adventure; the slice out of some lives would have justified a tear; but
he was too intent thinking about the jewels and the sword of Solomon.

His affected awkwardness in climbing amused the captain, watching him
from the deck, but at last he gained the top of the bluff.

The plain there was the same field of sickly weeds and perishing vines,
with here and there a shrub, and yonder a stunted olive tree, covered
trunk and branches with edible snails. If it brought anything in the
market, the crop, singular only to the Western mind, was plenteous
enough to be profitable to its farmers. There too was the debris of the
tower. With some anxiety he went to the stone which the reader will
probably remember as having to be rolled away from the mouth of the
hiding-place. It had not been disturbed. These observations taken, he
descended the bluff, and was received aboard the galley.

A very cautious man was the Prince of India. In commercial parlance, he
was out to cash a draft on the Plati branch of his quadruple bank. He
was not down to assist the captain of the galley to partnership with
him in the business. So, after completing the circuit of Plati, the
vessel bore away for Prinkipo and Halki, which Greek wealth and taste
had converted into dreamful Paradises. There it lay the night and next
day, while the easy-going passenger, out for air and rest, amused
himself making excursions to the convents and neighboring hills.

The second night, a perfect calm prevailing, he took the small boat,
and went out on the sea drifting, having provided himself with wine and
water, the latter in a new gurglet bought for the trip. The captain
need not be uneasy if he were late returning, he said on departing.
Nilo was an excellent sailor, and had muscle and spirit to contend
against a blow.

The tranquil environments of Prinkipo were enlivened by other parties
also drifting. Their singing was borne far along the starlit sea. Once
beyond sight and hearing, Nilo plied the oars diligently, bringing up
an hour or two after midnight at the shelving rock under the eastern
bluff of Plati. The way to the ruined tower was then clear.

Precisely as at the first visit when burial was the object, the
concealing stone was pushed aside; after which the Prince entered the
narrow passage crawling on his hands and knees. He was anxious. If the
precious stones had been discovered and carried away, he would have to
extend the voyage to Jaffa in order to draw from the Jerusalem branch
of his bank. But the sword of Solomon--that was not in the power of man
to duplicate--its loss would be irreparable.

The stones were mouldy, the passage dark, the progress slow. He had
literally to feel every inch in front of him, using his hands as a
caterpillar uses its antennae; but he did not complain--the
difficulties were the inducements which led him to choose the
hiding-place in the first instance. At length he went down a broken
step, and, rising to his knees, slipped his left hand along the face of
the wall until his fingers dropped into a crack between rocks. It was
the spot he sought; he knew it, and breathed easily. In murky
lamplight, with mallet and chisel--ah, how long ago!--he had worked a
shelf there, finishing it with an oblong pocket in the bottom. To mask
the hole was simple. Three or four easy-fitting blocks were removed,
and thrusting a hand in, he drew forth the sheepskin mantle of the
elder Nilo.

In spite of the darkness, he could not refrain from unrolling the
mildewed cover. The sword was safe! He drew the blade and shot it
sharply back into the scabbard, then kissed the ruby handle, thinking
again of the purchasing power there was in the relic which was yet more
than a relic. The leather of the water-gurglet, stiff as wood,
responded to a touch. The jewels were also safe, the great emerald with
the rest. He touched the bags, counting from one to nine inclusively.
Then remembering the ten times he had crawled into the passage to put
the treasures away, he began their removal, and kept at it until every
article was safely deposited in the boat.

On the way back to the galley he made new packages, using his mantle as
a wrap for the sword, and the new gurglet for the bags of jewels.

"I have had enough," he exclaimed to the captain, dropping wearily on
the deck about noon. "Take me to the city." After a moment of
reflection, he added: "Land me after nightfall."

"We will reach the harbor before sundown."

"Oh, well! There is the Bosphorus--go to Buyukdere, and come back."

"But, my Lord, the captain of the gate may decline to allow you to
pass."

The Prince smiled, and rejoined, with a thought of the bags in the
gurglet thrown carelessly down by him: "Up with the anchor."

The sailor's surmise was groundless. Disembarking about midnight, he
whispered his name to the captain at the gate of Blacherne, and,
leaving a soldan in the official palm, was admitted without
examination. On the street there was nothing curious in an old man
carrying a mantle under his arm, followed by a porter with a
half-filled gurglet on his shoulder. Finally, the adventure safely
accomplished, the Prince of India was home again, and in excellent
humor.

One doubt assailed him--one only. He had just seen the height of
Candilli, an aerial wonder in a burst of moonlight, and straightway his
fancy had crowned it with a structure Indian in style, and of material
to shine afar delicate as snow against the black bosomed mountain
behind it. He was not a Greek to fear the Turks. Nay, in Turkish
protection there was for him a guaranty of peaceable ownership which he
could not see under Constantine. And as he was bringing now the
wherewith to realize his latest dream, he gave his imagination a
loosened rein.

He built the house; he heard the tinkling of fountains in its courts,
and the echoes in the pillared recession of its halls; free of care,
happy once more, with Lael he walked in gardens where roses of Persia
exchanged perfumes with roses of Araby, and the daylong singing of
birds extended into noon of night; yet, after all, to the worn, weary,
droughted heart nothing was so soothing as the fancy which had been his
chief attendant from the gate of Blacherne--that he heard strangers
speaking to each other: "Have you seen the Palace of Lael?" "No, where
is it?" "On the crest of Candilli." The Palace of Lael! The name
confirmed itself sweeter and sweeter by repetition. And the doubt grew.
Should he build in the city or amidst the grove of Judas trees on the
crest of Candilli?

Just as he arrived before his door, he glanced casually across the
street, and was surprised by observing light in Uel's house. It was
very unusual. He would put the treasure away, and go over and inquire
into the matter. Hardly was he past his own lintel when Syama met him.
The face of the faithful servant showed unwonted excitement, and,
casting himself at his master's feet, he embraced his knees, uttering
the hoarse unintelligible cries with which the dumb are wont to make
their suffering known. The Master felt a chill of fear--something had
happened--something terrible--but to whom? He pushed the poor man's
head back until he caught the eyes.

"What is it?" he asked.

Syama arose, took the Prince's hand, and led him out of the door,
across the street, and into Uel's house. The merchant, at sight of
them, rushed forward and hid his face in the master's breast, crying:

"She is gone--lost!--The God of our fathers be with her!"

"Who is gone? Who lost?"

"Lael, Lael--our child--our Gul Bahar."

The blood of the elder Jew flew to his heart, leaving him pale as a
dead man; yet such was his acquired control of himself, he asked
steadily: "Gone!--Where?"

"We do not know. She has been snatched from us--that is all we know."

"Tell me of it--and quickly."

The tone was imperious, and he pushed Uel from him.

"Oh! my friend--and my father's friend--I will tell you all. You are
powerful, and love her, and may help where I am helpless." Then by
piecemeal he dealt out the explanation. "This afternoon she took her
chair and went to the wall in front of the Bucoleon--sunset, and she
was not back. I saw Syama--she was not in your house. He and I set out
in search of her. She was seen on the wall--later she was seen to
descend the steps as if starting home--she was seen in the garden going
about on the terrace--she was seen coming out of the front gate of the
old palace. We traced her down the street--then she returned to the
garden, through the Hippodrome, and there she was last seen. I called
my friends in the market to my aid--hundreds are now looking for her."

"She went out in her chair, did you say?"

The steady voice of the Prince was in singular contrast with his
bloodless face.

"Yes."

"Who carried it?"

"The men we have long had."

"Where are they?"

"We sought for them--they cannot be found."

The Prince kept his eyes on Uel's face. They were intensely, fiercely
bright. He was not in a rage, but thinking, if a man can be said to
think when his mind projects itself in a shower. Lael's disappearance
was not voluntary; she was in detention somewhere in the city. If the
purpose of the abduction were money, she would be held in scrupulous
safety, and a day or two would bring the demand; but if--he did not
finish the idea--it overpowered him. Pure steel in utmost flexion
breaks into pieces without warning; so with this man now. He threw both
hands up, and cried hoarsely: "Lend me, O God, of thy vengeance!" and
staggering blindly, he would have fallen but for Syama.




CHAPTER XVIII

THE FESTIVAL OF FLOWERS


The Academy of Epicurus was by no means a trifle spun for vainglory in
the fertile fancy of Demedes; but a fact just as the Brotherhoods of
the City were facts, and much more notorious than many of them.

Wiseacres are generally pessimistic. Academy of Epicurus indeed! For
once there was a great deal in a name. The class mentioned repeated it
sneeringly; it spoke to them, and loudly, of some philosophical
wickedness.

Stories of the miraculous growth of the society were at first amusing;
then the announcement of its housing excited loud laughter; but when
its votaries attached the high sounding term _Temple_ to their place of
meeting, the clergy and all the devoutly inclined looked sober. In
their view the word savored of outright paganism. Temple of the Academy
of Epicurus! Church had been better--Church was at least Christian.

At length, in ease of the increasing interest, notice was
authoritatively issued of a Festival of Flowers by the Academicians,
their first public appearance, and great were the anticipations aroused
by the further advertisement that they would march from their Temple to
the Hippodrome.

The festival took place the afternoon of the third day of the Prince of
India's voyage to Plati. More particularly, while that distinguished
foreigner on the deck of the galley was quietly sleeping off the
fatigue and wear of body and spirit consequent on the visit to the
desolate island, the philosophers were on parade with an immense quota
of Byzantines of both sexes in observation. About three thousand were
in the procession, and from head to foot it was a mass of flowers.

The extravaganza deserved the applause it drew. Some of its features
nevertheless were doubtfully regarded. Between the sections into which
the column was divided there marched small groups, apparently officers,
clad in gowns and vestments, carrying insignia and smoking tripods well
known to have belonged to various priesthoods of mythologic fame. When
the cortege reached the Hippodrome every one in the galleries was
reminded of the glory the first Constantine gained from his merciless
forays upon those identical properties.

In the next place, the motto of the society--Patience, Courage,
Judgment--was too frequently and ostentatiously exhibited not to
attract attention. The words, it was observed, were not merely on
banners lettered in gold, but illustrated by portable tableaux of
exquisite appositeness and beauty. They troubled the wiseacres; for
while they might mean a world of good, they might also stand for
several worlds of bad. Withal, however, the youthfulness of the
Academicians wrought the profoundest sensation upon the multitude of
spectators. The march was three times round the interior, affording
excellent opportunity to study the appearances; and the sober thinking,
whom the rarity and tastefulness of the display did not hoodwink, when
they discovered that much the greater number participating were
beardless lads, shook their heads while saying to each other, At the
rate these are going what is to become of the Empire? As if the
decadence were not already in progress, and they, the croakers,
responsible for it!

At the end of the first round, upon the arrival of the sections in
front of the triple-headed bronze serpent, one of the wonders of the
Hippodrome then as now, the bearers of the tripods turned out, and set
them down, until at length the impious relic was partially veiled in
perfumed smoke, as was the wont in its better Delphian days.

Nothing more shocking to the religionists could have been invented;
they united in denouncing the defiant indecency. Hundreds of persons,
not all of them venerable and frocked, were seen to rise and depart,
shaking the dust from their feet. In course of tile third circuit, the
tripods were coolly picked up and returned to their several places in
the procession.

From a seat directly over the course, Sergius beheld the gay spectacle
from its earliest appearance through the portal of the Blues to its
exit by the portal of the Greens. [Footnote: The Blues and the
Greens--two celebrated factions of Constantinople. See Gibbon, vii. pp.
79-89. Four gates, each flanked with towers, gave entrance to the
Hippodrome from the city. The northwestern was called the gate of the
Blues; the northeastern of the Greens; the southeastern gate bore the
sullen title, "Gate of the Dead."--Prof. Edwin A. Grosvenor.] His
interest, the reader will bear reminding, was peculiar. He had been
honored by a special invitation to become a member of the Academy--in
fact, there was a seat in the Temple at the moment reserved for him. He
had the great advantage, moreover, of exact knowledge of the objects of
the order. Godless itself, it had been organized to promote
godlessness. He had given much thought to it since Demedes unfolded the
scheme to him, and found it impossible to believe persons of sound
sense could undertake a sin so elaborate. If for any reason the State
and Church were unmindful of it, Heaven certainly could not be.

Aside from the desire to satisfy himself of the strength of the
Academy, Sergius was drawn to the Hippodrome to learn, if possible, the
position Demedes held in it. His sympathy with the venerable Hegumen,
with whom mourning for the boy astray was incessant, and sometimes
pathetic as the Jewish king's, gradually became a grief for the
prodigal himself, and he revolved plans for his reformation. What
happiness could he one day lead the son to the father, and say: "Your
prayers and lamentations have been heard; see--God's kiss of peace on
his forehead!"

And then in what he had seen of Demedes--what courage, dash, and
audacity--what efficiency--what store of resources! The last play of
his--attending the fete of the Princess Irene as a bear tender--who but
Demedes would have thought of such a role? Who else could have made
himself the hero of the occasion, with none to divide honors with him
except Joqard? And what a bold ready transition from bear tender to
captain in the boat race! Demedes writhing in the grip of Nilo over the
edge of the wall, death in the swish of waves beneath, had been an
object of pity tinged with contempt--Demedes winner of the prize at
Therapia was a very different person.

This feeling for the Greek, it is to be said next, was dashed with a
lurking dread of him. If he had a design against Lael, what was there
to prevent him from attempting it? That he had such a design, Sergius
could not deny. How often he repeated the close of the note left on the
stool after the Fisherman's fete. "Thou mayst find the fan of the
Princess of India useful; with me it is embalmed in sentiment." He
shall write with a pen wondrous fine who makes the difference between
love and sentiment clear. Behind the fete, moreover, there was the
confession heard on the wall, illustrated by the story of the plague of
crime. Instead of fading out in the Russian's mind it had become better
understood--a consequence of the brightening process of residence in
the city.

Twice the procession rounded the great curriculum. Twice Sergius had
opportunity to look for the Greek, but without avail. So were the
celebrants literally clothed in flowers that recognition of individuals
was almost impossible. The first time, he sought him in the body of
each passing section; the second time, he scanned the bearers of the
standards and symbols; the third time, he was successful.

At the head of the parade, six or eight persons were moving on
horseback. It was singular Sergius had not looked for Demedes amongst
them, since the idea of him would have entitled the Greek to a chief
seat in the Temple and a leading place when in the eye of the public.
As it was, he could not repress an exclamation on making the discovery.

Like his associates, Demedes was in armor _cap-a-pie_. He also carried
an unshod lance, a shield on arm, and a bow and quiver at his back; but
helmet, breastplate, shield, lance and bow were masked in flowers, and
only now and then a glint betrayed the underdress of polished steel.
The steed he bestrode was housed in cloth which dragged the ground; but
of the color of the cloth or its material not a word can be said, so
entirely was it covered with floral embroidery of diverse hues and
figures.

The decoration contributed little of grace to man or beast;
nevertheless its richness was undeniable. To the spendthrifts in the
galleries the effect was indescribably attractive. They studied its
elaboration, conjecturing how many gardens along the Bosphorus, and out
in the Isles of the Princes, had been laid under contribution for the
accomplishment of the splendor. Thus in the saddle, Demedes could not
have been accused of diminutiveness; he appeared tall, even burly;
indeed, Sergius would never have recognized him had he not been going
with raised visor, and at the instant of passing turned his face up,
permitting it to be distinctly seen.

The exclamation wrung from the monk was not merely because of his
finding the man; in sober truth, it was an unconventional expression
provoked by finding him in the place he occupied, and a quick jump to
the logical conclusion that the foremost person in the march was also
the chief priest--if such were the title--in the Academy.

Thenceforward Sergius beheld little else of the show than Demedes. He
forgot the impiety of the honors to the bronze serpent. There is no
enigma to us like him who is broadly our antipodes in moral being, and
whether ours is the good or the bad nature does not affect the saying.
His feelings the while were strangely diverse. The election of the evil
genius to the first place in the insidious movement was well done for
the Academy; there would be no failure with him in control; but the
poor Hegumen!

And now, the last circuit completed, the head of the bright array
approached the Gate of the Greens. There the horsemen drew out and
formed line on the right hand to permit the brethren to march past
them. The afternoon was going rapidly. The shadow of the building on
the west crept more noticeably across the carefully kept field. Still
Sergius retained his seat watchful of Demedes. He saw him signal the
riders to turn out--he saw the line form, and the sections begin to
march past it--then an incident occurred of no appreciable importance
at the moment, but replete with significancy a little later.

A man appeared on the cornice above the Gate--the Grate on the interior
having a face resembling a very tall but shallow portico resting on
slender pillars--and commenced lowering himself as if he meant to
descend. The danger of the attempt drew all eyes to him. Demedes looked
up, and hastily rode through the column toward the spot where the
adventurer must alight. The spectators credited the young chief with a
generous intent to be of assistance; but agile as a cat, and master of
every nerve and muscle, the man gained one of the pillars and slid to
the ground. The galleries of the Hippodrome found voice immediately.

While the acrobat hung from the cornice striving to get hold of the
pillar with his feet and legs, Sergius was wrestling with the question,
what could impel a fellow being to tempt Providence so rashly? If a
messenger with intelligence for some one in the procession, why not
wait for him outside? In short, the monk was a trifle vexed; but doubly
observant now, he saw the man hasten to Demedes, and Demedes bend low
in the saddle to receive a communication from him. The courier then
hurried away through the Gate, while the chief returned to his place;
but, instructed probably by some power of divination proceeding from
sympathy and often from suspicion, one of the many psychological
mysteries about which we keep promising ourselves a day of
enlightenment, Sergius observed a change in the latter. He was
restless, impatient, and somewhat too imperative in hastening the
retirement of the brethren. The message had obviously excited him.

Now Sergius would have freely given the best of his earthly possessions
to have known at that moment the subject of the communication delivered
by a route so extraordinary; but leaving him to his conjectures, there
is no reason why the reader should not be more confidentially treated.

"Sir," the messenger had whispered to Demedes, "she has left her
father's, and is coming this way."

"How is she coming?"

"In her sedan."

"Who is with her?"

"She is alone."

"And her porters?"

"The Bulgarians."

"Thank you. Go now--out by the Gate--to the keeper of the Imperial
Cistern. Tell him to await me under the wall in the Bucoleon garden
with my chair. He will understand. Come to the Temple tomorrow for your
salary."




CHAPTER XIX

THE PRINCE BUILDS CASTLES FOR HIS GUL BAHAR


The words between Demedes and his courier may have the effect of
additionally exciting the reader's curiosity; for better understanding,
therefore, we will take the liberty of carrying him from the Hippodrome
to the house of Uel the merchant.

Much has been said about the Prince of India's affection for Lael; so
much indeed that there is danger of its being thought one sided. A
greater mistake could scarcely be. She returned his love as became a
daughter attentive, tender and obedient. Without knowing anything of
his past life except as it was indistinctly connected with her family,
she regarded him a hero and a sage whose devotion to her, multiform and
unwearied, was both a delight and an honor. She was very sympathetic,
and in everything of interest to him responded with interest. His word
in request or direction was law to her. Such in brief was the charming
mutuality between them.

The night before he started for Plati, Lael sat with him on the roof.
He was happy of his resolution to stay with her. The moonlight was
ample for them. Looking up into his face, her chin in a palm, an elbow
on his knee, she listened while he talked of his plans, and was the
more interested because he made her understand she was the inspiration
of them all.

"The time for my return home is up," he said, forgetting to specify
where the home was, "and I should have been off before this but for my
little girl--my Gul Bahar"--and he patted her head fondly. "I cannot go
and leave her; neither can I take her with me, for what would then
become of father Uel? When she was a child it might not have been so
hard for me to lose sight of her, but now--ah, have I not seen you grow
day by day taller, stronger, wiser, fairer of person, sweeter of soul,
until you are all I fancied you would be--until you are my ideal of a
young woman of our dear old Israel, the loveliness of Judah in your
eyes and on your cheek, and of a spirit to sit in the presence of the
Lord like one invited and welcome? Oh, I am very happy!"

He kept silence awhile, indulging in retrospect. If she could have
followed him! Better probably that she could not.

"It is a day of ease to me, dear, and I cannot see any unlawfulness in
extending the day into months, or a year, or years indefinitely, and in
making the most of it. Can you?" he asked, smiling at her.

"I am but a handmaiden, and my master's eyes are mine," she replied.

"That was well said--ever so well said," he returned. "The words would
have become Ruth speaking to her lord who was of the kindred of
Elimelech... Yes, I will stay with my Gul Bahar, my most precious one.
I am resolved. She loves me now, but can I not make her love me still
more--Oh, doubt not, doubt not! Her happiness shall be the measure of
her love for me. That is the right way, is it not?"

"My father is never wrong," Lael answered, laughing.

"Flatterer!" he exclaimed, pressing her cheeks between his hands....
"Oh, I have it marked out already! In the dry lands of my country, I
have seen a farmer, wanting to lead water to a perishing field, go
digging along the ground, while the stream bubbled and leaped behind
him, tame and glad as a petted lamb. My heart is the field to be
watered--your love, O my pretty, pretty Gul Bahar, is the refreshing
stream, and I will lead it after me--never fear!... Listen, and I will
tell you how I will lead it. I will make you a Princess. These Greeks
are a proud race, but they shall bow to you; for we will live amongst
them, and you shall have things richer than their richest--trinkets of
gold and jewels, a palace, and a train of women equal to that of the
Queen who went visiting Solomon. They praise themselves when they look
at their buildings, but I tell you they know nothing of the art which
turns dreams into stones. The crags and stones have helped them to
their models. I will teach them better--to look higher--to find
vastness with grace and color in the sky. The dome of Sancta
Sophia--what is it in comparison with the Hindoo masterpieces copied
from the domes of God on the low-lying clouds in the distance opposite
the sun?"

Then he told her of his palace in detail--of the fronts, no two of them
alike--the pillars, those of red granite, those of porphyry, and the
others of marble--windows which could not be glutted with light--arches
such as the Western Kaliphs transplanted from Damascus and Bagdad, in
form first seen in a print of the hoof of Borak. Then he described the
interior, courts, halls; passages, fountains: and when he had thus set
the structure before her, he said, softly smoothing her hair:

"There now--you have it all--and verily, as Hiram, King of Tyre, helped
Solomon in his building, he shall help me also."

"How can he help you?" she asked, shaking her finger at him. "He has
been dead this thousand years, and more."

"Yes, dear, to everybody but me," he answered, lightly, and asked in
turn: "How do you like the palace?"

"It will be wonderful!"

"I have named it. Would you like to hear the name?"

"It is something pretty, I know."

"The Palace of Lael."

Her cry of delighted surprise, given with clasped hands and wide-open
eyes, would have been tenfold payment were he putting her in possession
of the finished house.

The sensation over, he told her of his design for a galley.

"We know how tiresome the town becomes. In winter, it is cheerless and
damp; in summer, it is hot, dusty and in every way trying. Weariness
will invade our palace--yes, dear, though we hide from it in the shady
heart of our Hall of Fountains. We can provide against everything but
the craving for change. Not being birds to fly, and unable to compel
the eagles to lend us their wings, the best resort is a galley; then
the sea is ours--the sea, wide, mysterious, crowded with marvels. I am
never so near the stars as there. When a wave is bearing me up, they
seem descending to meet me. Times have been when I thought the Pleiades
were about to drop into my palm.... Here is my galley. You see, child,
the palace is to be yours, the galley mine."

Thereupon he described a trireme of a hundred and twenty oars, sixty on
a side, and ended, saying: "Yes, the peerless ship will be mine, but
every morning it shall be yours to say Take it here or there, until we
have seen every city by the sea; and there are enough of them, I
promise, to keep us going and going forever were it not that the
weariness which drove us from our palace will afterwhile drive us back
to it. How think you I have named my galley?"

"Lael," she answered.

"No, try again."

"The world is too full of names for me. Tell me."

"Gul Bahar," he returned.

Again she clasped her hands, and gave the little cry in his ears so
pleasant.

Certainly the Prince was pleading with effect, and laying up happiness
in great store to cheer him through unnumbered sterile years inevitably
before him after time had resolved this Lael into a faint and fading
memory, like the other Lael gone to dust under the stone at Jerusalem.

The first half of the night was nearly spent when he arose to conduct
her across the street to Uel's house. The last words at the head of the
steps were these: "Now, dear, to-morrow I must go a journey on business
which will keep me three days and nights--possibly three weeks. Tell
father Uel what I say. Tell him also that I have ordered you to stay
indoors while I am absent, unless he can accompany you. Do you hear me?"

"Three weeks!" she cried, protestingly. "Oh, it will be so lonesome!
Why may I not go with Syama?"

"Syama would be a wisp of straw in the hands of a ruffian. He could not
even call for help."

"Then why not with Nilo?"

"Nilo is to attend me."

"Oh, I see," she said, with a merry laugh. "It is the Greek, the Greek,
my persecutor! Why, he has not recovered from his fright yet; he has
deserted me."

He answered gravely: "Do you remember a bear tender, one of the
amusements at the fisherman's fete?"

"Oh, yes."

"He was the Greek."

"He!" she cried, astonished.

"Yes. I have it from Sergius the monk; and further, my child, he was
there in pursuit of you."

"Oh, the monster! I threw him my fan!"

The Prince knew by the tremulous voice she was wounded, and hastened to
say: "It was nothing. He deceived everybody but Sergius. I spoke of the
pestilent fellow because you wanted a reason for my keeping you close
at home. Perhaps I exacted too much of you. If I only knew certainly
how long I shall be detained! The three weeks will be hard--and it may
be Uel cannot go with you--his business is confining. So if you do
venture out, take your sedan--everybody knows to whom it belongs--and
the old Bulgarian porters. I have paid them enough to be faithful to
us. Are you listening, child?"

"Yes, yes--and I am so glad!"

He walked down the stairs half repenting the withdrawal of his
prohibition.

"Be it so," he said, crossing the street. "The confinement might be
hurtful. Only go seldom as you can; then be sure you return before
sunset, and that you take and keep the most public streets. That is all
now."

"You are so good to me!" she said, putting her arm round his neck, and
kissing him. "I will try and stay in the house. Come back early.
Farewell."

Next day about noon the Prince of India took the galley, and set out
for Plati.

The day succeeding his departure was long with Lael. She occupied
herself with her governess, however, and did a number of little tasks
such as women always have in reserve for a more convenient season.

The second day was much more tedious. The forenoon was her usual time
for recitations to the Prince; she also read with him then, and
practised talking some of the many languages of which he was master.
That part of the day she accordingly whiled through struggling with her
books.

She was earnest in the attempt at study; but naturally, the
circumstances considered, she dropped into thinking of the palace and
galley. What a delightful glorious existence they prefigured! And it
was not a dream! Her father, the Prince of India, as she proudly and
affectionately called him, did not deal in idle promises, but did what
he said. And besides being a master of design in many branches of art,
he had an amazing faculty of describing the things he designed. That is
saying he had the mind's eye to see his conceptions precisely as they
would appear in finished state. So in talking his subjects always
seemed before him for portraiture. One can readily perceive the
capacity he must have had for making the unreal appear real to a
listener, and also how he could lead Lael, her hand in his, through a
house more princely than anything of the kind in Constantinople, and on
board a ship such as never sailed unless on a painted ocean--a house
like the Taj Mahal, a vessel like that which burned on the Cydnus. She
decided what notable city by the sea she wanted most to look at next,
and in naming them over, smiled at her own indecision.

The giving herself to such fancies was exactly what the Prince
intended; only he was to be the central figure throughout. Whether in
the palace or on the ship, she was to think of him alone, and always as
the author of the splendor and the happiness. Of almost any other
person we would speak compassionately; but he had lived long enough to
know better than dream so childishly--long enough at least to know
there is a law for everything except the vagaries of a girl scarcely
sixteen.

After all, however, if his scheme was purely selfish, perhaps it may be
pleasing to the philosophers who insist that relations cannot exist
without carrying along with them their own balance of compensations, to
hear how Lael filled the regal prospect set before her with visions in
which Sergius, young, fair, tall and beautiful, was the hero, and the
Prince only a paternal contributor. If the latter led her by the hand
here and there, Sergius went with them so close behind she could hear
his feet along the marble, and in the voyages she took, he was always a
passenger.

The trial of the third day proved too much for the prisoner. The
weather was delightfully clear and warm, and in the afternoon she fell
to thinking of the promenade on the wall by the Bucoleon, and of the
waftures over the Sea from the Asian Olympus. They were sweet in her
remembrance, and the longing for them was stronger of a hope the
presence of which she scarcely admitted to herself--a hope of meeting
Sergius. She wanted to ask him if the bear-tender at the fete could
have been the Greek. Often as she thought of that odious creature with
her fan, she blushed, and feared Sergius might seriously misunderstand
her.

About three o'clock she ordered her chair brought to father Uel's door
at exactly four, having first dutifully run over the conditions the
Prince had imposed upon her. Uel was too busy to be her escort. Syama,
if he went, would be no protection; but she would return early. To be
certain, she made a calculation. It would take about half an hour to
get to the wall; the sun would set soon after seven; by starting home
at six she could have fully an hour and a half for the airing, which
meant a possible hour and a half with Sergius.

At four o'clock the sedan was set down before the merchant's house,
and, for a reason presently apparent, the reader to whom vehicles of
the kind are unfamiliar is advised to acquaint himself somewhat
thoroughly with them. In idea, as heretofore observed, this one was a
box constructed with a seat for a single passenger; a door in front
allowed exit and entrance; besides the window in the door, there was a
smaller opening on each side. For portage, it was affixed centrally and
in an upright position to two long poles; these, a porter in front and
another behind grasped at the ends, easing the burden by straps passed
over the shoulders. The box was high enough for the passenger to stand
in it.

Lest this plain description should impose an erroneous idea of the
appearance of the carriage, we again advert to its upholstery in
silk-velvet orange-tinted; to the cushions covering the seat; to the
lace curtaining the windows in a manner to permit view from within
while screening the occupant from obtrusive eyes without; and to the
elaborate decoration of the exterior, literally a mosaic of
vari-colored woods, mother-of-pearl and gold, the latter in lines and
flourishes. In fine, to such a pitch of gorgeousness had the Prince
designed the chair, intending the public should receive it as an
attestation of his love for the child to whom it was specially set
apart, that it became a notoriety and avouched its ownership everywhere
in the city.

The reader would do well in the next place to give a glance at the men
who brought the chair to the door--two burly fellows, broad-faced,
shock-headed, small-eyed, sandalled, clad in semi-turbans, gray shirts,
and gray trousers immensely bagged behind--professional porters; for
the service demanded skill. A look by one accustomed to the compound of
races hived in Constantinople would have determined them Bulgarians in
extraction, and subjects of the Sultan by right of recent conquest.
They had settled upon the Prince of India in a kind of retainership. As
the chair belonged to Lael, from long employment as carriers they
belonged to the chair. Their patron dealt very liberally with them, and
for that reason had confidence in their honesty and faithfulness. That
they should have pride in the service, he dressed them in a livery. On
this occasion, however, they presented themselves in every-day
costume--a circumstance which would not have escaped the Prince, or
Uel, or Syama.

The only witness of the departure was the governess, who came out and
affectionately settled her charge in the chair, and heard her name the
streets which the Bulgarians were to pursue, all of them amongst the
most frequented of the city. Gazing at her through the window the
moment the chair was raised, she thought Lael never appeared lovelier
and was herself pleased and lulled with the words she received at
parting:

"I will be home before sunset."

The carriers in going followed instructions, except that upon arrival
at the Hippodrome, observing it already in possession of a concourse of
people waiting for the Epicureans, they passed around the enormous
pile, and entered the imperial gardens by a gate north of Sancta Sophia.

Lael found the promenade thronged with habitues, and falling into the
current moving toward Point Serail, she permitted her chair to become
part of it; after which she was borne backward and forward from the
Serail to the Port of Julian, stopping occasionally to gaze at the
Isles of the Princes seemingly afloat and drifting through the purple
haze of the distance.

Where, she persisted in asking herself, is Sergius? Lest he might pass
unobserved, she kept the curtains of all the windows aside, and every
long gown and tall hat she beheld set her heart to fluttering. Her
eagerness to meet the monk at length absorbed her.

The sun marked five o'clock--then half after five--then, in more rapid
declension, six, and still she went pendulously to and fro along the
wall--six o'clock, the hour for starting home; but she had not seen
Sergius. On land the shadows were lengthening rapidly; over the sea,
the brightness was dulling, and the air perceptibly freshening. She
awoke finally to the passage of time, and giving up the hope which had
been holding her to the promenade, reluctantly bade the carriers take
her home. "Shall we go by the streets we came?" the forward man asked,
respectfully.

"Yes," she returned.

Then, as he closed the door, she was startled by noticing the promenade
almost deserted; the going and coming were no longer in two decided
currents; groups had given place to individual loiterers. These things
she noticed, but not the glance the porters threw to each other
telegraphic of some understanding between them.

At the foot of the stairs descending the wall she rapped on the front
window.

"Make haste," she said, to the leading man; "make haste, and take the
nearest way."

This, it will be perceived, left him to choose the route in return, and
he halted long enough to again telegraph his companion by look and nod.

Between the eastern front of the Bucoleon and the sea-wall the entire
space was a garden. From the wall the ascent to the considerable
plateau crowned by the famous buildings was made easy by four graceful
terraces, irregular in width, and provided with zigzag roads securely
paved.

Roses and lilies were not the only products of the terraces; vines and
trees of delicate leafage and limited growth flourished upon them in
artistic arrangement. Here and there were statues and lofty pillars,
and fountains in the open, and fountains under tasteful pavilions,
planted advantageously at the angles. Except where the trees and
shrubbery formed groups dense enough to serve as obstructions, the wall
commanded the whole slope. Time was when all this loveliness was
jealously guarded for the lords and ladies of the court; but when
Blacherne became the Very High Residence the Bucoleon lapsed to the
public. His Majesty maintained it; the people enjoyed it.

Following the zigzags, the carriers mounted two of the terraces without
meeting a soul. The garden was deserted. Hastening on, they turned the
Y at the beginning of the third terrace. A hundred or more yards along
the latter there was a copse of oleander and luxuriant filbert bushes
over-ridden by fig trees. As the sedan drew near this obstruction, its
bearers flung quick glances above and below them, and along the wall,
and descrying another sedan off a little distance but descending toward
them, they quickened their pace as if to pass the copse first. In the
midst of it, at the exact point where the view from every direction was
cut off, the man in the rear stumbled, struggled to recover himself,
then fell flat. His ends of the poles struck the pavement with a
crash--the chair toppled backward--Lael screamed. The leader slipped
the strap from his shoulder, and righted the carriage by letting it go
to the ground, floor down. He then opened the door.

"Do not be scared," he said to Lael, whose impulse was to scramble out.
"Keep your seat--my comrade has had a fall--that is nothing--keep your
seat. I will get him up, and we will be going on in a minute."

Lael became calm.

The man walked briskly around, and assisted his partner to his feet.
There was a hurried consultation between them, of which the passenger
heard only the voices. Presently they both came to the door, looking
much mortified.

"The accident is more than I thought," the leader said, humbly.

By this time the chill of the first fear was over with Lael, and she
asked: "Can we go on?"

"If the Princess can walk--yes."

She turned pale.

"What is it? Why must I walk?"

"Our right-hand pole is broken, and we have nothing to tie it with."

And the other man added: "If we only had a rope!"

Now the mishap was not uncommon, and remembering the fact, Lael grew
cooler, and bethought herself of the silken scarf about her waist. To
take it off was the work of a moment.

"Here," she said, rather pleased at her presence of mind; "you can make
a rope of this."

They took the scarf, and busied themselves, she thought, trying to
bandage the fractured shaft. Again they stood before the door.

"We have done the best we can. The pole will hold the chair, but not
with the Princess. She must walk--there is nothing else for her."

Thereupon the assistant interposed a suggestion: "One of us can go for
another chair, and overtake the Princess before she reaches the gate."

This was plausible, and Lael stepped forth. She sought the sun first;
the palace hid it, yet she was cheered by its last rays redly
enlivening the heights of Scutari across the Bosphorus, and felicitated
herself thinking it still possible to get home before the night was
completely fallen.

"Yes, one of you may seek another"--

That instant the sedan her porters had descried before they entered the
copse caught her eyes. Doubt, fear, suspicion vanished; her face
brightened: "A chair! A chair!--and no one in it!" she cried, with the
vivacity of a child. "Bring it here, and let us be gone."

The carriage so heartily welcomed was of the ordinary class, and the
carriers were poorly clad, hard-featured men, but stout and well
trained. They came at call.

"Where are you going?"

"To the wall."

"Are you engaged?"

"No, we hoped to find some one belated there."

"Do you know Uel the merchant?"

"We have heard of him. He has a stall in the market, and deals in
diamonds."

"Do you know where his house is?"

"On the street from St. Peter's Gate, under the church by the old
cistern."

"We have a passenger here, his daughter, and want you to carry her
home. One of our poles is broken."

"Will she pay us our price?"

"How much do you want?"

Here Lael interposed: "Stand not on the price. My father will pay
whatever they demand."

The Bulgarians seemed to consider a moment.

"It is the best we can do," the leader said.

"Yes, the very best," the other returned.

Thereupon the first one went to the new sedan, and opened the door. "If
the Princess will take seat," he said, respectfully, "we will pick up,
and follow close after her."

Lael stepped in, saying as the door closed upon her: "Make haste, for
the night is near."

The strangers without further ado faced about, and started up the road.

"Wait, wait," she heard her old leader call out.

There was a silence during which she imagined the Bulgarians were
adjusting the straps upon their shoulders; then there came a quick:
"Now go, and hurry, or we will pass you."

These were the last words she heard from them, for the new men put
themselves in motion. She missed the cushions of her own carriage, but
was content--she was returning home, and going fast. This latter she
judged by the slide and shuffle of the loose-sandalled feet under her,
and the responsive springing of the poles.

The reaction of spirit which overtook her was simply the swing of
nature back to its normal lightness. She ceased thinking of the
accident, except as an excuse for the delay to which she had been
subjected. She was glad the Prince's old retainer had escaped without
injury. There was no window back through which she could look, yet she
fancied she heard the feet of the faithful Bulgarians; they said
nothing, therefore everything was proceeding well. Now and then she
peered out through the side windows to notice the deepening of the
shades of evening. Once a temporary darkness filled the narrow box, but
it gave her no uneasiness--the men were passing out of the garden
through a covered gate. Now they were in a street, and the travelling
plain.

Thus assured and tranquil, maiden-like, she again fell to thinking of
Sergius. Where could he have been? What kept him from the promenade? He
might have known she would be there. Was the Hegumen so exacting? Old
people are always forgetting they cannot make young people old like
themselves; and it was so inconvenient, especially now she wanted to
hear of the bear tender. Then she adverted to the monk more directly.
How tall he was! How noble and good of face! And his religion--she
wished ever so quietly that he could be brought over to the Judean
faith--she wished it, but did not ask herself why. To say truth, there
was a great deal more feeling in undertone, as it were, touching these
points than thought; and while she kept it going, the carriers forgot
not to be swift, nor did the night tarry.

Suddenly there was an awakening. From twilight deeply shaded, she
passed into utter darkness. While, with her face to a window, she tried
to see where she was and make out what had happened, the chair stopped,
and next moment was let drop to the ground. The jar and the blank
blackness about renewed her fears, and she called out:

"What is the matter? Where are we? This is not my father Uel's."

And what time an answer should have been forthcoming had there been
good faith and honesty in the situation, she heard a rush of feet which
had every likeness to a precipitate flight, and then a banging noise,
like the slamming to of a ponderous door.

She had time to think of the wisdom of her father, the Prince of India,
and of her own wilfulness--time to think of the Greek--time to call
once on Sergius--then a flutter of consciousness--an agony of
fright--and it was as if she died.




CHAPTER XX

THE SILHOUETTE OF A CRIME


A genius thoroughly wicked--such was Demedes.

Quick to see the disgust the young men of Constantinople had fallen
into for the disputes their elders were indulging about the Churches,
he proposed that they should discard religion, and reinstate
philosophy; and at their request he formulated the following:

"Nature is the lawgiver; the happiness of man is the primary object of
Nature: hence for youth, Pleasure; for old age, Repentance and Piety,
the life hereafter being a respectable conjecture."

The principles thus tersely stated were eagerly adopted, and going
forward with his scheme, it may be said the Academy was his design, and
its organization his work. In recognition of his superior abilities,
the grateful Academicians elected him their High Priest.

We have seen how the public received the motto of the society.
Patience, Courage, Judgment looked fair and disclosed nothing wrong;
but there was an important reservation to it really the only secret
observed. This was the motto in full, known only to the
initiated--Patience, Courage, Judgment _in the pursuit of Pleasure_.

From the hour of his installation as High Priest, Demedes was consumed
by an ambition to illustrate the motto in its entirety, by doing
something which should develop the three virtues in connection with
unheard of daring and originality.

It is to be added here that to his own fortune, he had now the treasury
of the Academy to draw upon, and it was full. In other words, he had
ample means to carry out any project his _judgment_ might approve.

He pondered the matter long. One day Lael chanced to fall under his
observation. She was beautiful and the town talk. Here, he thought, was
a subject worth studying, and speedily two mysteries presented
themselves to him: Who was the Prince of India? And what was her true
relationship to the Prince?

We pass over his resorts in unravelling the mysteries; they were many
and cunning, and thoroughly tried the first virtue of the Academical
motto; still the sum of his finding with respect to the Prince was a
mere theory--he was a Jew and rich--beyond this Demedes took nothing
for his pains.

He proceeded next to investigate Lael. She too was of Jewish origin,
but unlike other Jewesses, wonderful to say, she had two fathers, the
diamond merchant and the Prince of India.

Nothing better could be asked--so his judgment, the third virtue of the
motto, decreed. In Byzantine opinion, Jews were socially outside decent
regard. In brief, if he should pursue the girl to her ruin, there was
little to fear from an appeal by either of her fathers to the
authorities. Exile might be the extremest penalty of discovery.

He began operations by putting into circulation the calumny, too
infamous for repetition, with which we have seen him attempt to poison
Sergius. Robbing the victim of character would deprive her of sympathy,
and that, in the event of failure, would be a half defence for himself
with the public.

He gave himself next to finding what to do with the little Princess, as
he termed her. All his schemes respecting her fell short in that they
lacked originality. At last the story of the Plague of Crime, stumbled
on in the library of the St. James', furnished a suggestion novel, if
not original, and he accepted it.

Proceeding systematically, he first examined the cistern, paddling
through it in a boat with a flambeau at the bow. He sounded the depth
of the water, counted the pillars, and measured the spaces between
them; he tested the purity of the air; and when the reconnoissance was
through, he laughed at the simplicity of the idea, and embodied his
decision in a saying eminently becoming his philosophic character--the
best of every new thing is that it was once old.

Next he reduced the affair to its elements. He must steal her--such was
the deed in simplest term--and he must have assistants, but prudence
whispered just as few of them as possible. He commenced a list, heading
it with the keeper of the cistern, whom he found poor, necessitous, and
anxious to better his condition. Upon a payment received, that worthy
became warmly interested, and surprised his employer with suggestions
of practical utility.

Coming then to the abduction, he undertook a study of her daily life,
hoping it would disclose something available. A second name was
thereupon entered in his list of accomplices.

One day a beggar with sore eyes and a foot swollen with
elephantiasis--an awful object to sight--set a stool in an angle of the
street a few doors from Uel's house; and thenceforward the girl's every
appearance was communicated to Demedes, who never forgot the great jump
of heart with which he heard of the gorgeous chair presented her by the
Prince, and of the visit she forthwith made to the wall of the Bucoleon.

Soon as he satisfied himself that the Bulgarians were in the Prince's
pay, he sounded them. They too were willing to permit him to make them
comfortable the remainder of their days, especially as, after the
betrayal asked of them, they had only to take boat to the Turkish side
of the Bosphorus, beyond pursuit and demand. His list of assistants was
then increased to four.

Now indeed the game seemed secure, and he prepared for the hour which
was to bring the Jewess to him.

The keeper of the cistern was the solitary occupant of a house built
round a small court from which a flight of stone steps admitted to the
darkened water. He had a felicitous turn for mechanics, and undertook
the building of a raft with commodious rooms on it. Demedes went with
him to select a place of anchorage, and afterward planned the structure
to fit between four of the pillars in form thus:

[Illustration]

Seeing the design on paper, Demedes smiled--it was so like a cross; the
part in lines being the landing, and the rest a room divisible at
pleasure into three rooms. A boat was provided for communication, and
to keep it hid from visitors, a cord was fixed to a pillar off in the
darkness beyond ken, helped though it might be by torches; so standing
on the stone steps, one could draw the vessel to and fro, exactly as a
flag is hoisted or lowered on a staff.

The work took a long time, but was at last finished. The High Priest of
the Epicureans came meantime to have something akin to tender feeling
for his intended victim. He indulged many florid dreams of when she
should grace his bower in the Imperial Cistern; and as the time of her
detention might peradventure extend into months, he vowed to enrich the
bower until the most wilful spirit would settle into contentment.

Neither the money nor the time spent in this part of the preparation
was begrudged; on the contrary, Demedes took delight in the occupation;
it was exercise for ingenuity, taste, and judgment, always a pleasure
to such as possess the qualities. In fact, the whole way through he
likened himself to a bird building a nest for its mate.

After all, however, the part of the project most troublesome of
arrangement by the schemer, was getting the Princess into the cistern
keeper's house--that is, without noise, scuffle, witnesses, or a clew
left behind. To this he gave more hours of reflection than to the rest
altogether. The method we have seen executed was decided upon when he
arrived at two conclusions; that the attempt was most likely to succeed
in the garden of the Bucoleon, and that the Princess must be lured from
her chair into another less conspicuous and not so well known. Greatly
to his regret, but of necessity, he then saw himself compelled to
increase his list of accessories to six. Yet he derived peace
remembering none of them, with exception of the keeper, knew aught of
the affair beyond their immediate connection with it. The porters, for
instance, who dropped the unfortunate and fled, leaving her in the
sedan to intents dead, had not the slightest idea of what was to become
of her afterwards.

The conjunctions needful to success in the enterprise were numerous;
yet the Greek accepted the waiting they put him to as a trial of the
Patience to which the motto pledged him. He believed in being ready.
When the house was built and furnished, he drilled the Bulgarians with
such particularity that the scene in the garden may be said to have
been literally to order. Probably the nearest approach to the mythical
sixth sense is the power of casting one's mind forward to a coming
event, and arranging its occurrence; and whether some have it a gift of
nature, while others derive it from cultivation, this much is
certain--without it, no man will ever create anything originally.

Now, if the reader pleases, Demedes was too liberally endowed with the
faculty, trait or sense of which we have just spoken to permit the
sedan to be broken; such an accident would have been very inconvenient
at the critical moment succeeding the exchange of chairs. The prompter
ever at the elbow of a bad man instructed him that, aside from what the
Prince of India could not do, it was in his power to arouse the city,
and set it going hue and cry; and then the carriage, rich, glittering,
and known to so many, would draw pursuit, like a flaming torch at
night. So it occurred to Demedes, the main object being to conceal the
going to the cistern keeper's, why not use the sedan to deceive the
pursuers? He scored the idea with an exultant laugh.

Returning now to the narrative of the enactment, directly the strange
porters moved out of the copse with their unsuspecting passenger, the
Bulgarians slung the poles to their shoulders, and followed up the
zigzag to the Y of the fourth terrace; there they turned, and retraced
their steps to the promenade; whence, after reaching Point Serail, they
doubled on their track, descended the wall, traversed the garden, and,
passing the gate by which they came, paraded their empty burden around
the Hippodrome and down a thronged street. And again doubling, they
returned to the wall, and finding it forsaken, and the night having
fallen, they abandoned the chair at a spot where the water on the
seaward side was deep and favorable for whatever violence theory might
require. In the course of this progress they were met by numberless
people, many of whom stopped to observe the gay turnout, doubting not
that the little Princess was within directing its movements. Finally,
their task thoroughly done, the Bulgarians hurried to where a boat was
in readiness, and crossing to Scutari, lost themselves in the growing
dominions of their rightful Lord, the Sultan.

One casually reading this silhouette of a crime in act is likely to
rest here, thinking there was nothing more possible of doing either to
forward the deed or facilitate the escape of those engaged in it; yet
Demedes was not content. There were who had heard him talk of the
girl--who knew she had been much in his thought--to whom he had
furnished ground for suspecting him of following her with evil
intent--Sergius amongst others. In a word, he saw a necessity for
averting attention from himself in the connection. Here also his wit
was willing and helpful. The moment the myrmidon dropped from the
portico with news that the Princess was out in her chair unattended, he
decided she was proceeding to the wall.

"The gods are mindful of me!" he said, his blood leaping quick. "Now is
the time ripe, and the opportunity come!"

Looking at the sun, he fixed the hour, and reflected:

"Five o'clock--she is on the wall. Six o'clock--she is still there.
Half after six--making up her mind to go home. Oh, but the air will be
sweet, and the sea lovely! Seven o'clock--she gives order, and the
Bulgarians signal my men on the fourth terrace. Pray Heaven the Russian
keep to his prayers or stay hearkening for my father's bell!... Here am
I seen of these thousands. Later on--about the time she forsakes the
wall--my presence shall be notorious along the streets from the Temple
to Blacherne. Then what if the monk talks? May the fiend pave his path
with stumbling-blocks and breaknecks! The city will not discredit its
own eyes."

The Epicureans, returning from the Hippodrome, reached their Temple
about half after five o'clock. The dispersal occupied another hour;
shortly after, the regalia having been put away, and the tripods and
banners stored, Demedes called to his mounted assistants:

"My brothers, we have worked hard, but the sowing has been bounteous
and well done. Philosophy in flowers, religion in sackcloth--that is
the comparison we have given the city. There will be no end to our
harvest. To-morrow our doors open to stay open. To-day I have one
further service for you. To your horses and ride with me to the gate of
Blacherne. We may meet the Emperor."

They answered him shouting: "Live the Emperor!"

"Yes," cried Demedes, when the cheering was over, "by this time he
should be tired of the priests; and what is that but the change of
heart needful to an Epicurean?"

Laughing and joking, they mounted, eight of them, in flowers as when in
the Hippodrome. The sun was going down, but the streets were yet bright
with day. It was the hour when balconies overhanging the narrow
thoroughfares were crowded with women and children, and the doors beset
with servants--the hour Byzantine gossips were abroad filling and

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