CHAPTER XVII.
The valley in which the little hamlet lay, as well as the ravine bywhich it was approached, was exceedingly tortuous. The stream whichseemed to have made these in its ceaseless windings, sometimes almostdoubled upon itself, as if the spirit of the waters were the prey ofthe spirit of the hills that closed in upon its path, and thus itsought to elude its pursuer. Though it was fully twenty miles from thedemolished konak to where the narrow valley debouched into the openplain, it was not more than a quarter of this distance in a straightline between those points. The interjacent space was, however,impassable to any except those familiar with its trackless rocks. Froma distance the mountain lying between seemed a sheer precipice. ButConstantine knew every crevice up which a man could climb; thevarious ledges that were connected, if not by balconies broad enoughfor the foot, at least by contiguous trunks of trees, balustrades oftough mountain laurel, or ropes of wild vine. He could cross this wallof rock in an hour or two, but the Turkish raiders would occupy thebulk of the day in making the circuit of the road. Indeed they wouldin all probability not leave the security of the great ravine, andstrike the highway, until night-fall; for the terror of Scanderbeg'subiquity was always before the Turks. It was this thought that hadprompted Constantine's sudden action when he started up from hisdespairing reverie amid the embers of his home.
It was still early in the afternoon when, having passed with thecelerity of a goat among the crags, he looked down from the furtherside of the great barrier upon the Turkish company. He stood upon aledge almost above their heads; and never did an eagle's eye take in abrood upon which he was about to swoop, more sharply than didConstantine's observe the details of the camp below him.
There were the horses tethered. Yonder was a group of officers playingat dice. In a circle of guards beyond, a few women and children; andamong them--could he mistake that form?
The soldiers were preparing their mess. Some were picking the feathersfrom fowls; others building fires. Then his surmise had been correct,that they would not leave the valley until night.
Constantine donned the Turkish uniform he had brought with him, andclimbed down the mountain. Sentinels were posted here and there uponbold points from which they might get a view of the great plainbeyond. Toward this they kept a constant watch, as one of themremarked to his comrade upon a neighboring pinnacle of rock: "Lestsome of Scanderbeg's lightning might be lying about loose." Posinglike a sentinel whenever he was likely to be observed, Constantinepassed through their lines, the guards being too far apart to detectone another's faces. Hailed by a sentinel, he gave back the playfulsalute with a wave of his hand.
Emboldened by the success of his disguise, he descended to a ledge sonear the group of officers that he could easily hear theirconversation. They did not use the pure Turkish speech, but sometimesinterspersed it with Servian, for many of the officers, as well as themen, in the Sultan's armies were from the provinces where the Turkishtongue was hardly known. The common soldiers in this group Constantineobserved used the Servian altogether.
"Good!" said he to himself, "point number one in my plot."
"The highest throw wins the choice of the captives," cried one of theofficers. "What say you, Oski?"
"Agreed," replied the one addressed, "but she will never be your houriin paradise, Lovitsch?"
"Why not?"
"Because the Koran forbids casting lots?"
"Well," replied his comrade. "I will take my beauty now, in thisworld, rather than wait for the next. So here goes!"
"By Khalif Omar's big toe! You have won, Oski. Which will you take?"
"The little one with the bright black eyes," replied Oski; "unless youcan prevail upon Captain Ballaban to give me his. The man who ownsthat girl will never have any houris in paradise. They would all diefor jealousy."
"Captain Ballaban is his name," murmured Constantine to himself."Good! Point number two in my plot."
"I would not have her for a gift," said Lovitsch, "for she has astrange eye--the evil eye perhaps--at least there is something in it Icannot fathom. She looks straight through a man. I touched her underthe chin, when those gentle blue orbs burst with fire. There was asmuch of a change in her as there is in one of our new-fashioned cannonwhen it is touched off; quiet one moment, and sending a bullet throughyou the next. She's the daughter of the devil, sure."
"You are a bold soldier, Lovitsch, to be afraid of a girl," laughedhis comrade. "I would like the chance of owning that beauty. If Icould not manage her I could sell her. She would bring a bag of goldat Adrianople. Captain Ballaban will probably give her as a present toPrince Mahomet. He can afford to do so, for the prince has shown himwonderful favors. Think of a young Janizary, who has not seen nineteensummers, with a captain's rank, and commanding such greybeards as we!"
"No doubt the prince favors him," replied Lovitsch, "but that will notaccount for his advance in the Janizary's corps. Nothing but real gritand genius gets ahead among those fellows. The prince can give hisjewels and gold, but he could not secure a Janizary's promotion to asoldier any more than he could bring him to disgrace without theconsent of the Aga. No, comrade, Ballaban was born a soldier, and haswon every thread in his captain's badge by some exploit or sagecounsel. But I wish he was back with us. I like not being left incharge of such a motley troop as this. If Scanderbeg should close upthe mouth of this ravine with a few score of his spavined cavalry, wewould be like so many eggs in a bag, to be smashed together, withoutBallaban's wit to get us out."
"I think the captain has returned, for, if I mistake not, I saw hisred head a little while ago glowing like a sunset on the crag yonder,"replied Oski, looking up toward the spot where Constantine wassitting.
----"Good! said Constantine, holding his council of war with his ownthoughts. "The captain looks like me before sunset. Perhaps I can looklike him after sunset. One advantage of having a head tiled in red!But I will not show it again. Point number three in my plot."----
"Quite likely the captain has returned, and is prowling about,inspecting everything, from the horses'-tails to our very faces, thathe may read our thoughts. That is his way," said Lovitsch, glancingaround.
"Which way did he go?"
"You might as well ask which track the Prophet's horse took throughthe air when he carried his rider on the night journey to heaven. Amessenger from the chief Aga met him just as we were finishing thefight last night, and, with a word turning over the command to me, hemounted his horse and was off. Perhaps he heads some other raidto-night; or, for aught I know, may be conferring with Scanderbeg inthe disguise of a Frankish general; for that Ballaban's brain is asprolific of schemes and tricks as this ant's nest is full ofeggs"--turning over a stone as he spoke.
The afternoon waned, and, as the night fell, preparations were madefor the march. When it was dark a light bugle note called in thesentinels, and the company moved forward.
The Captain of the Janizaries Page 17
