CHAPTER XLVII.
Captain Ballaban was summoned by the Sultan.
"Well, comrade," said Mahomet, familiarly throwing his arm about hisfriend, much to the disgust of the Capee Aga, the master ofceremonies, through whom alone it was the custom of the Sultans to beapproached.
"Well! comrade, I gave a necklace worth a thousand liras to a girl whopleased me in the harem."
"Happy girl, to have pleased your Majesty. That was better than thenecklace," replied Ballaban.
"Think you so? Let me look you through and through. Think you there isnothing better in this world than to please the Padishah? Ah! it isworth a kingdom to hear that from a man like you, Ballaban. Women sayit; but they can do nothing for me. They dissipate my thoughts withtheir pleasuring me. They make me weak. I have a mind to abolish thewhole harem. But to have a man, a strong man, a man with a head toplot for empire and to marshal armies, a man with an arm like thine tomake love to me! Ah, that is glorious, comrade. But let me make nomistake about it. You love me? Do you really think no gold, no honors,could give you so much pleasure as pleasing me? Swear it! and by thethrone of Allah! I will swear that you shall share my empire. But tobusiness!" dropping his voice, and in the instant becoming apparentlyforgetful of his enthusiasm for his friend.
"We make a campaign against Belgrade. I must go in person. YetScanderbeg holds out in Albania. It is useless meeting him in hisstronghold. You cannot fight a lion by crawling into his den. He mustbe trapped. Work out a plan."
"I have one which may be fruitful," instantly replied CaptainBallaban.
"Ah! so quick?"
"No, of long hatching, Sire. I made it in my first campaign in Albaniawith your royal father. The young Voivode Amesa is nephew toScanderbeg. He is restless under the authority of the great general:has committed some crime which, if known, would bring him to ruin: ispopular with the people of the north."
"Capital!" said Mahomet eagerly. "I see it all. Work it out! Work itout! He may have anything, if only Scanderbeg can be put out of theway, and the country be under our suzerainty. Work it out! And thesuzerain revenues shall all be yours; for by the bones of Othman!there is not a province too great for you if only you can settleaffairs among the Arnaouts.
"And now a gift! I will send you the very queen of the harem."
"My thanks, Padishah, but I----" began Ballaban, when he was cut shortby the Sultan.
"Not a word! not a word! I know you decline to practice the softervirtues, and prefer to live like a Greek monk. But you must take her.If you like her not, drown her. But you shall like her. By the dimplein the chin of Ayesha! she is the most perfect woman in the empire."
"But," interposed Ballaban, "I am a Janizary, and it is not permitteda Janizary to marry."
"A fig for what is permitted! When the Padishah gives, he grantspermission to enjoy his gifts. Besides, you need not marry. You canown her; sell her if you don't like her. But you must take her."
"Of what nation is she? Perhaps I could not understand her tongue,"objected Ballaban.
"So much the better," said Mahomet. "Women are not made to talk. Butthis woman is an Arnaout, from Scanderbeg's country."
Captain Ballaban could scarcely believe his ears.
This then is Morsinia! To have her, to save her without breach ofloyalty! This was too much. With strangely fluttering heart heacquiesced, and his thanks were drawn from the bottom of his soul.
The next day he sought Kala Hanoum, and sent by her to Morsinia a gemenclosed in a pretty casket, with which was a note, reading,--
"It shall be so. Patience for a few days, and our hearts shall be madeglad."
How strangely Fate had planned for him! It must have been Fate; foronly powers supernal could have made the gift of the Padishah sofitting to his heart. No chance this! His secret passion, unbreathedto any ear on earth, had been a prayer heard in heaven!
Ballaban was now an undoubting Moslem that he found Kismet on the sideof his inclinations. He belonged to Islam, the Holy Resignation;resigned to the will of Providence, since Providence seemed just nowto have resigned itself to his will. He was surprised at the ecstaticcharacter his piety was taking on. He could have become a dervish:indeed his head was already whirling with the intoxication of hisprospects.
Captain Ballaban, like a good Moslem, went to the Mosque. He made hisprayer toward the Mihrab; but his eyes and thoughts wandered to thespot at the side of it, where he had saved the life of Morsinia; andhe thanked Allah with full soul that he had been allowed to save herfor himself.
The Padishah, the following day, bade Ballaban repair to a house inthe city, and be in readiness to receive the gift of heaven and of hisown imperial grace. On reaching the place an elderly woman--theKoulavous, an inevitable attendant upon marriages--conducted himthrough the selamlik and mabeyn to the haremlik of the house. Thebride or slave, as he pleased to take her, rose from the divan to meethim. Though her thick veil completely enveloped her person, it couldnot conceal her superb form and marvellous grace. His hand trembledwith the agitation of his delight as he exercised the authority of ahusband or master, and reverently raised the veil.
He stood as one paralyzed in amazement. She was not Morsinia. She wasElissa!
He dropped the veil.
Strange spirits seemed to breathe themselves in succession through hisframe.
First came the demon of disappointment, checking his blood, stiflinghim. Not that any other mortal knew of his shattered hopes; but it wasenough that he knew them. And with the consciousness of defeat, ahorrible chagrin bit and tore his heart, as if it had been some dragonwith teeth and claws.
Then came the demon of rage; wild rage; wanting to howl out its fury.He might have smitten the veiled form, had not the latter, overcome byher bewilderment and the scorn of him she supposed to have been alover, already fallen fainting at his feet.
Then rose in Ballaban's breast the demon of vengeance against theSultan. Had Mahomet been present he surely had felt the steel of theoutraged man. Only the habit of self-control and quiet review of hisown passions prevented his seeking the Padishah, and taking instantvengeance in his blood.
Then there came into him a great demon of impiety, and breathed acurse against Allah himself through his lips.
But finally a new spirit hissed into his ears. It was Nemesis. He feltthat this was the moment when a just retribution had returned uponhimself. For he well knew the face that lay weeping beneath the heapof bejewelled lace and silk. It was that of the Dodola, whom he hadflung into the arms of the Albanian Voivode Amesa when he was awaitingthe embrace of some more princely maiden. And now the sarcasm of fatehad thrown her into his arms.
"Allah! Thou wast even with me this time," he confessed back of hisclenched teeth.
"But doubtless," he thought, "it was through the information I gave tothe Aga that this girl has been stolen away from Amesa."
"Would that heaven rid me of her so easily!" he muttered. "Yet that iseasy; thanks to our Moslem law, which says, 'Thou mayest either retainthy wife with humanity or dismiss her with kindness.'[101] Yet Icannot dismiss her with kindness. She can not go back to the royalharem. If I dismiss her I harm her, and Allah's curse will be fatalif I wrong this creature again--to say nothing of the Padishah's if Ithrow away his gift. I must keep her. Well! Bacaloum! Bacaloum! It isnot so bad a thing after all to have a woman like that for one'sslave; for a wife without one's heart is but a slave. Well!" He raisedthe veil again from the now sitting woman.
The mutually stupid gaze carried them both through several years whichhad passed since they had parted at Amesa's castle.
Elissa was easily induced to tell her story. Assuming that it might bealready known to her new lord, she gave it correctly; and therefore itdiffered substantially from that she had told to Morsinia. She hadbeen but a few days in Amesa's home when he discovered that she wasnot the person he had presumed her to be. In an outburst of rage hewould have taken her life, but was led by an old priest to adopt amore merciful method of ridding h
imself of her. To have returned herto the village above the Skadar would have filled the country with thescandal, and made Amesa the laughing stock of all. She was thereforesent within the Turkish lines, with the certainty of finding her wayto some far-distant country. Her beauty saved her from a common fate,and she was sent as a gift to the young Padishah by an old general,into whose hands she had fallen.
Ballaban assured the woman of his protection, and also that the timewould come when he would compensate her for any grief she had enduredthrough his fault. In the meantime she was retained in the luxuriouscomfort of her new abode.
FOOTNOTE:
[101] Koran, Chap. II.
The Captain of the Janizaries Page 47
