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

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE PRINCE BUILDS CASTLES FOR HIS GUL BAHAR

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

  Much has been said about the Prince of India's affection for Lael; somuch indeed that there is danger of its being thought one sided. Agreater mistake could scarcely be. She returned his love as became adaughter attentive, tender and obedient. Without knowing anything ofhis past life except as it was indistinctly connected with her family,she regarded him a hero and a sage whose devotion to her, multiform andunwearied, was both a delight and an honor. She was very sympathetic,and in everything of interest to him responded with interest. His wordin request or direction was law to her. Such in brief was the charmingmutuality 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 wasample for them. Looking up into his face, her chin in a palm, an elbowon his knee, she listened while he talked of his plans, and was themore interested because he made her understand she was the inspirationof them all.

  "The time for my return home is up," he said, forgetting to specifywhere the home was, "and I should have been off before this but for mylittle girl--my Gul Bahar"--and he patted her head fondly. "I cannot goand leave her; neither can I take her with me, for what would thenbecome of father Uel? When she was a child it might not have been sohard for me to lose sight of her, but now--ah, have I not seen you growday 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 ayoung woman of our dear old Israel, the loveliness of Judah in youreyes and on your cheek, and of a spirit to sit in the presence of theLord like one invited and welcome? Oh, I am very happy!"

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

  "It is a day of ease to me, dear, and I cannot see any unlawfulness inextending the day into months, or a year, or years indefinitely, and inmaking 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 wouldhave become Ruth speaking to her lord who was of the kindred ofElimelech... 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 stillmore--Oh, doubt not, doubt not! Her happiness shall be the measure ofher 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, Ihave seen a farmer, wanting to lead water to a perishing field, godigging along the ground, while the stream bubbled and leaped behindhim, tame and glad as a petted lamb. My heart is the field to bewatered--your love, O my pretty, pretty Gul Bahar, is the refreshingstream, and I will lead it after me--never fear!... Listen, and I willtell you how I will lead it. I will make you a Princess. These Greeksare a proud race, but they shall bow to you; for we will live amongstthem, and you shall have things richer than their richest--trinkets ofgold and jewels, a palace, and a train of women equal to that of theQueen who went visiting Solomon. They praise themselves when they lookat their buildings, but I tell you they know nothing of the art whichturns dreams into stones. The crags and stones have helped them totheir models. I will teach them better--to look higher--to findvastness with grace and color in the sky. The dome of SanctaSophia--what is it in comparison with the Hindoo masterpieces copiedfrom the domes of God on the low-lying clouds in the distance oppositethe sun?"

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

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

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

  "Yes, dear, to everybody but me," he answered, lightly, and asked inturn: "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-openeyes, would have been tenfold payment were he putting her in possessionof 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 anddamp; in summer, it is hot, dusty and in every way trying. Wearinesswill invade our palace--yes, dear, though we hide from it in the shadyheart of our Hall of Fountains. We can provide against everything butthe craving for change. Not being birds to fly, and unable to compelthe eagles to lend us their wings, the best resort is a galley; thenthe sea is ours--the sea, wide, mysterious, crowded with marvels. I amnever so near the stars as there. When a wave is bearing me up, theyseem descending to meet me. Times have been when I thought the Pleiadeswere 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 ona side, and ended, saying: "Yes, the peerless ship will be mine, butevery morning it shall be yours to say Take it here or there, until wehave seen every city by the sea; and there are enough of them, Ipromise, to keep us going and going forever were it not that theweariness which drove us from our palace will afterwhile drive us backto 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 sopleasant.

  Certainly the Prince was pleading with effect, and laying up happinessin great store to cheer him through unnumbered sterile years inevitablybefore him after time had resolved this Lael into a faint and fadingmemory, 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 conducther across the street to Uel's house. The last words at the head of thesteps were these: "Now, dear, to-morrow I must go a journey on businesswhich will keep me three days and nights--possibly three weeks. Tellfather Uel what I say. Tell him also that I have ordered you to stayindoors 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 noteven 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 hasdeserted me."

  He answered gravely: "Do you remember a bear tender, one of theamusements 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 wasthere in pursuit of you."

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

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

  "Yes, yes--and I am so glad!"

  He walked down the stairs half repenting the withdrawal of hisprohibition.

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

  "You are so good to me!" she said, putting her arm round his neck, andkissing 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 outfor Plati.

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

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

  She was earnest in the attempt at study; but naturally, thecircumstances considered, she dropped into thinking of the palace andgalley. What a delightful glorious existence they prefigured! And itwas not a dream! Her father, the Prince of India, as she proudly andaffectionately called him, did not deal in idle promises, but did whathe 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 issaying he had the mind's eye to see his conceptions precisely as theywould appear in finished state. So in talking his subjects alwaysseemed before him for portraiture. One can readily perceive thecapacity he must have had for making the unreal appear real to alistener, and also how he could lead Lael, her hand in his, through ahouse more princely than anything of the kind in Constantinople, and onboard a ship such as never sailed unless on a painted ocean--a houselike the Taj Mahal, a vessel like that which burned on the Cydnus. Shedecided 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 Princeintended; only he was to be the central figure throughout. Whether inthe palace or on the ship, she was to think of him alone, and always asthe author of the splendor and the happiness. Of almost any otherperson we would speak compassionately; but he had lived long enough toknow better than dream so childishly--long enough at least to knowthere is a law for everything except the vagaries of a girl scarcelysixteen.

  After all, however, if his scheme was purely selfish, perhaps it may bepleasing to the philosophers who insist that relations cannot existwithout carrying along with them their own balance of compensations, tohear how Lael filled the regal prospect set before her with visions inwhich Sergius, young, fair, tall and beautiful, was the hero, and thePrince only a paternal contributor. If the latter led her by the handhere and there, Sergius went with them so close behind she could hearhis feet along the marble, and in the voyages she took, he was always apassenger.

  The trial of the third day proved too much for the prisoner. Theweather was delightfully clear and warm, and in the afternoon she fellto thinking of the promenade on the wall by the Bucoleon, and of thewaftures over the Sea from the Asian Olympus. They were sweet in herremembrance, and the longing for them was stronger of a hope thepresence of which she scarcely admitted to herself--a hope of meetingSergius. She wanted to ask him if the bear-tender at the fete couldhave been the Greek. Often as she thought of that odious creature withher fan, she blushed, and feared Sergius might seriously misunderstandher.

  About three o'clock she ordered her chair brought to father Uel's doorat exactly four, having first dutifully run over the conditions thePrince 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 becertain, she made a calculation. It would take about half an hour toget to the wall; the sun would set soon after seven; by starting homeat six she could have fully an hour and a half for the airing, whichmeant 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 ofthe kind are unfamiliar is advised to acquaint himself somewhatthoroughly with them. In idea, as heretofore observed, this one was abox constructed with a seat for a single passenger; a door in frontallowed exit and entrance; besides the window in the door, there was asmaller opening on each side. For portage, it was affixed centrally andin an upright position to two long poles; these, a porter in front andanother behind grasped at the ends, easing the burden by straps passedover the shoulders. The box was high enough for the passenger to standin it.

  Lest this plain description should impose an erroneous idea of theappearance of the carriage, we again advert to its upholstery insilk-velvet orange-tinted; to the cushions covering the seat; to thelace curtaining the windows in a manner to permit view from withinwhile screening the occupant from obtrusive eyes without; and to theelaborate decoration of the exterior, literally a mosaic ofvari-colored woods, mother-of-pearl and gold, the latter in lines andflourishes. In fine, to such a pitch of gorgeousness had the Princedesigned the chair, intending the public should receive it as anattestation of his love for the child to whom it was specially setapart, that it became a notoriety and avouched its ownership everywherein the city.

  The reader would do well in the next place to give a glance at the menwho 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; forthe service demanded skill. A look by one accustomed to the compound ofraces hived in Constantinople would have determined them Bulgarians inextraction, and subjects of the Sultan by right of recent conquest.They had settled upon the Prince of India in a kind of retainership. Asthe chair belonged to Lael, from long employment as carriers theybelonged to the chair. Their patron dealt very liberally with them, andfor that reason had confidence in their honesty and faithfulness. Thatthey should have pride in the service, he dressed them in a livery. Onthis occasion, however, they presented themselves in every-daycostume--a circumstance which would not have escaped the Prince, orUel, or Syama.

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

  "I will be home before sunset."

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

  Lael found the promenade thronged with habitues, and falling into thecurrent moving toward Point Serail, she permitted her chair to becomepart of it; after which she was borne backward and forward from theSerail to the Port of Julian, stopping occasionally to gaze at theIsles of the Princes seemingly afloat and drifting through the purplehaze of the distance.

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

  The sun marked five o'clock--then half after five--then, in more rap
iddeclension, six, and still she went pendulously to and fro along thewall--six o'clock, the hour for starting home; but she had not seenSergius. On land the shadows were lengthening rapidly; over the sea,the brightness was dulling, and the air perceptibly freshening. Sheawoke finally to the passage of time, and giving up the hope which hadbeen holding her to the promenade, reluctantly bade the carriers takeher 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 promenadealmost deserted; the going and coming were no longer in two decidedcurrents; groups had given place to individual loiterers. These thingsshe noticed, but not the glance the porters threw to each othertelegraphic of some understanding between them.

  At the foot of the stairs descending the wall she rapped on the frontwindow.

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

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

  Between the eastern front of the Bucoleon and the sea-wall the entirespace was a garden. From the wall the ascent to the considerableplateau crowned by the famous buildings was made easy by four gracefulterraces, irregular in width, and provided with zigzag roads securelypaved.

  Roses and lilies were not the only products of the terraces; vines andtrees of delicate leafage and limited growth flourished upon them inartistic 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 andshrubbery formed groups dense enough to serve as obstructions, the wallcommanded the whole slope. Time was when all this loveliness wasjealously guarded for the lords and ladies of the court; but whenBlacherne became the Very High Residence the Bucoleon lapsed to thepublic. His Majesty maintained it; the people enjoyed it.

  Following the zigzags, the carriers mounted two of the terraces withoutmeeting a soul. The garden was deserted. Hastening on, they turned theY at the beginning of the third terrace. A hundred or more yards alongthe latter there was a copse of oleander and luxuriant filbert bushesover-ridden by fig trees. As the sedan drew near this obstruction, itsbearers flung quick glances above and below them, and along the wall,and descrying another sedan off a little distance but descending towardthem, they quickened their pace as if to pass the copse first. In themidst of it, at the exact point where the view from every direction wascut off, the man in the rear stumbled, struggled to recover himself,then fell flat. His ends of the poles struck the pavement with acrash--the chair toppled backward--Lael screamed. The leader slippedthe strap from his shoulder, and righted the carriage by letting it goto 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 yourseat. 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 passengerheard only the voices. Presently they both came to the door, lookingmuch 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 sheasked: "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 grewcooler, and bethought herself of the silken scarf about her waist. Totake it off was the work of a moment.

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

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

  "We have done the best we can. The pole will hold the chair, but notwith the Princess. She must walk--there is nothing else for her."

  Thereupon the assistant interposed a suggestion: "One of us can go foranother 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 redlyenlivening the heights of Scutari across the Bosphorus, and felicitatedherself thinking it still possible to get home before the night wascompletely fallen.

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

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

  The carriage so heartily welcomed was of the ordinary class, and thecarriers were poorly clad, hard-featured men, but stout and welltrained. 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 indiamonds."

  "Do you know where his house is?"

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

  "We have a passenger here, his daughter, and want you to carry herhome. 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 paywhatever 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. "Ifthe 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, forthe 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 wereadjusting 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 putthemselves in motion. She missed the cushions of her own carriage, butwas content--she was returning home, and going fast. This latter shejudged 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 ofnature back to its normal lightness. She ceased thinking of theaccident, except as an excuse for the delay to which she had beensubjected. She was glad the Prince's old retainer had escaped withoutinjury. There was no window back through which she could look, yet shefancied she heard the feet of the faithful Bulgarians; they saidnothing, therefore everything was proceeding well. Now and then shepeered out through the side windows to notice the deepening of theshades of evening. Once a temporary darkness filled the narrow box, butit gave her no uneasiness--the men were passing out of the gardenthrough a covered gate. Now they were in a street, and the travellingplain.

  Thus assured and tranquil, maiden-like, she again fell to thinking ofSergius. Where could he have been? What kept him from the promenade? Hemight have known she would be there. Was the Hegumen so exacting? Oldpeople are always forgetting they cannot make young people old likethemselves; and it was so inconvenient, especially now she wanted tohear 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--shewished ever so quietly
that he could be brought over to the Judeanfaith--she wished it, but did not ask herself why. To say truth, therewas a great deal more feeling in undertone, as it were, touching thesepoints than thought; and while she kept it going, the carriers forgotnot to be swift, nor did the night tarry.

  Suddenly there was an awakening. From twilight deeply shaded, shepassed into utter darkness. While, with her face to a window, she triedto 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 blankblackness 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 beengood faith and honesty in the situation, she heard a rush of feet whichhad 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 callonce on Sergius--then a flutter of consciousness--an agony offright--and it was as if she died.