CHAPTER XXVI.
In vain did Castriot assault the Turks who were intrenched about thewells and springs in the neighborhood. Now and then a victory overthem would be followed by a long procession from the town, rollingcasks, carrying buckets, pitchers, leather bottles and dug-outtroughs. The amount of water thus procured but scarcely sufficed tokeep life in the veins of the defenders: it did not suffice to nourishheart and courage. It was foreseen that Sfetigrade must fall.
Constantine was in the madness of despair about Morsinia. Her fate inthe event of capture was simply horrible to contemplate. Yet she couldhardly hope to make her way through the Turkish lines. Constantine wasat the camp with Castriot when it was announced that the enemy had atlength got possession of every approach to the town, so that there wasno communication between the Albanians within and those without,except by signaling over the heads of the Turks. Castriot determinedupon a final attack, during which, if he should succeed in uncoveringany of the gates of the town, the people might find egress.
Constantine begged to be allowed the hazardous duty of entering, bypassing in disguise through the Turkish army, and giving theendangered people the exact information of Castriot's purpose. Takingadvantage of his former experience, he donned the uniform of aJanizary, easily learned the enemy's password, and at the momentdesignated to the besieged by Castriot's signal--just as the lowerstar of the Great Dipper disappeared behind the cliff--he emerged fromthe dense shadows of an angle of the wall. He was scarcely oppositethe gate when the drawbridge lowered and rose quickly. The portculliswas raised and dropped an instant later, and he was within the town.
Throwing off his disguise, he went at once toward the commandant'squarters to deliver despatches from Castriot. But a shout precededhim--
"The destroyer! The destroyer! Death to the destroyer!"
Multitudes, awakened by the shouting, came from the houses andsoldiers' quarters. Constantine was seized by the crowd, who yelled:
"To the well with him! Let the dog's soul come into him!"
He was borne along as helplessly as a leaf in the foaming cataract.
"To the well! To the well with the poisoner!"
The cry grew louder and shriller; the multitude maddening under theintense fury of their mutual rage, as each coal is hotter when manyglow with it in the fire. Women mingled with soldiers, shrieking theirinsane vengeance, until the crowd surged with the victim around thewell. The planks were torn off by strong hands. The horror of the deedthey were about to commit made them pause. Each waited for hisneighbor to assume the desperate office of actually perpetrating whatwas in all their hearts to do.
At length three of the more resolute stepped forward as executionersof the popular will. The struggling form of Constantine was held erectthat all might see him. Torches waved above his head. One stood uponthe well curb, and, dropping a torch into the dark abyss, cried with aloud voice--
"So let his life be put out who destroys us all!"
"So let it be!" moaned the crowd; the wildness of their wrath somewhatsubdued by the impressiveness of the tragedy they were enacting.
The well hissed back its curse as the burning brand sunk into thewater.
But a new apparition burst upon the scene. Suddenly, as if it hadrisen from the well, a form draped in white stood upon the curb. Herlong golden hair floated in the strong wind. Her face, from sicknesswhite as her robe, had an unearthly pallor from the excitement, andseemed to be lit with the white heat of her soul. Her sunken eyes gaveback the flare of the torches, as if they gleamed with celestialreprobation.
"The Holy Virgin!" cried some.
"One of the Vili!" cried others.
The crowd surged back in ghostly fear.
"Neither saint nor sprite am I," cried Morsinia. "Your own wickedhearts make you fear me. It is your consciences that make you imaginea simple girl to be a vengeful spirit, and shrink from this horridmurder, to the very brink of which your ignorance and wretchedsuperstition have led you. Blessed Mary need not come from Heaven totell you that a man--a man for whom her Son Jesu died--should not bemade to die for the sake of a dead dog. I, a child, can tell youthat."
"But the well is accursed and the people die," said a monk, throwingback his cowl, and reaching out his hand to seize her.
"And such words from you, a priest of Jesu!" answered the woman,warding him off by the scathing scorn of her tones. "Did not Jesu say,'Come unto Me and drink, drink out of My veins as ye do in HolySacrament?' Will He curse and kill, then, for drinking the water whichyou need, because a dog has fallen into it?"
These words, following the awe awakened by her unexpected appearance,stayed the rage of the crowd for a moment. But soon the murmur roseagain--
"To the well!"
"He is a murderer!"
"It is just to take vengeance on a murderer!"
The woman raised her hand as if invoking the witness of Heaven to hercause, and exclaimed--
"But _I_ am not a murderer. A curse on him who slays the innocent. Iwill be the sacrifice. I fear not to drink of this well with my dyinggasp. Unhand the man, or, as sure as Heaven sees me, I shall die forhim!"
A shudder of horror ran through the crowd as the light form of theyoung woman raised itself to the very brink of the well. It seemed asif a movement, or a cry, would precipitate her into the black abyss.The crowd was paralyzed. The silence of the dead fell upon them, asshe leaned forward for the awful plunge.
Those holding Constantine let go their grip.
At this moment the commandant appeared. He had, indeed, been a silentwitness of the scene, and was not unwilling that the superstition ofthe soldiers should thus have a vent, thinking that with the sacrificeof the supposed offender they might be satisfied, and led to believethat the spirit of the well was appeased. He hoped that thus theymight be induced to drink the water. But he recoiled from permittingthe sacrifice of this innocent person, lest it should blacken thecurse already impending.
"I will judge this case," he cried. "Man, who are you?"
"I bear you orders from General Castriot," replied Constantine,handing him a document.
By the light of a torch the officer read,
"In the event of being unable to hold out, signal and make a sally according to directions to be given verbally by the bearer.
CASTRIOT."
Turning to the crowd, the commandant addressed them.
"Brave men! Epirots and Dibrians! We are being led into some mistake.My message makes it evident that on this man's life depends the lifeof every one of us----"
His voice was drowned by wild cries that came from a distant part ofthe town. The cries were familiar enough to all their ears; but theyhad heretofore heard them only from beneath the walls without. Theywere the Turkish cries of assault. "Allah! Allah! Allah! Allah!"rolled like a hurricane along the streets of Sfetigrade. The gates hadbeen thrown open by some Dibrian, whom superstition and athirst-fevered brain had transformed into a traitor.
"Quick!" cried Constantine. "Fire three powder flashes from thebastion, and follow me."
"Brave girl!" said he to Morsinia, grasping her hand and drawing hertoward the citadel.
"It is too late!" replied the commandant. "All the ports are occupiedby the enemy. We can but die in the streets."
"To the north gate, then! Burst it open, and cut your way to the east.Castriot will meet you there. I will to the bastion."
"We must go with them," said Morsinia. "Better die in the streets thanbe taken here."
"No, you shall not die, my good angel. I have prepared for this.First, I will fire the signal." In a few seconds three flashesillumined the old battlements.
Returning to Morsinia, he said quietly, "I have prepared for this,"and unwound from about his body a strong cord, looped at intervals sothat it could be used for a ladder. Fastening this securely, hedropped the end over the wall. Descending part way himself, he openedthe loops one by one for the feet of his companion; and thus theyreached a narrow ledge some twenty
feet below the parapet. From thisto the next projection broad enough to stand upon, the rock was steepbut slanting; so that, while one could not rest upon it, it wouldlargely overcome the momentum of the descent. Fastening a cordsecurely beneath the arms of Morsinia, he let her down the slope tothe lower ledge. Then, tying the rope to that above, he descendedhimself to her side. From this point the path was not dangerous to onepossessed of perfect presence of mind, and accustomed to balance thebody on one foot at a time. Thanks to her mountain life, and thestrong stimulus to brain and nerve acquired by her familiarity withdanger, Morsinia was undizzied by the elevation. Thus they wound theirway toward the east side of the wall; and, as they neared the base ofthe cliff, sat down to reconnoitre.
Above them frowned the walls of the citadel. Just beneath them weremany forms, moving like spectres in the darkness which was fastdissolving into the gray morning twilight. The voices which came up totheir ears proved that they were Turks. For Morsinia to pass throughthem without detection would be impossible. To remain long where theywere would be equally fatal.
But their anxiety was relieved by a well known bugle-call. At first itsounded far away to the north.
"Iscanderbeg! Iscanderbeg!" cried the Turks, as they were deployed toface the threatening assault. But scarcely had they formed in theirnew lines when the sound, as of a storm bursting through a forest,indicated that the attack was from the south.
Taking the Turks who were still outside the walls at a disadvantage,Castriot's force made terrible havoc among them, sweeping them backpell-mell past the eastern front and around the northern, so as toleave the north gate clear for the escape of any who might emergefrom it.
But, alas, for the valor of the commandant and the noble men whofollowed him! few succeeded in cutting their way through the swarm ofenemies that had already occupied the streets of Sfetigrade.
This movement, however, enabled Constantine and Morsinia to descendfrom their dangerous eyrie. The apparition of their approach from thatdirection was a surprise to the general.
"Why, man, do you ride upon bats and night-hawks, that you have flownfrom yonder crag? I shall henceforth believe in Radisha and hisbeautiful demon. And may I pray thy care for myself in battle, my fairlady?"
The Captain of the Janizaries Page 26
