by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER VIII
MAHOMMED TRIES HIS GUNS AGAIN
Hardly had the bodies making the sortie retired within the gate whenthe Janissaries on the eminence were trebly strengthened, and thenoises in that quarter, the cracking of whips, the shouting ofox-drivers, the hammering betokened a prodigious activity. Thebesieged, under delusion that the guns had been destroyed, could notunderstand the enemy. Not until the second ensuing morning was themystery solved. The watchmen on the towers, straining to pierce theearly light, then beheld the great bronze monster remounted and gapingat them through an embrasure, and other monsters of a like kind oneither side of it, fourteen in all, similarly mounted and defended.
The warders on the towers, in high excitement, sent for Justiniani, andhe in turn despatched a messenger to the Emperor. Together on theBagdad tower the two discussed the outlook.
"Your Majesty," said the Genoese, much chagrined, "the apostate Dacianmust be master of his art. He has restored the cannon I overthrew."
After a time Constantine replied: "I fear we have underrated the newSultan. Great as a father may be, it is possible for a son to begreater."
Perceiving the Emperor was again repenting the dismissal of Urban, theCaptain held his peace until asked: "What shall we now do?"
"Your Majesty," he returned, "it is apparent our sally was a failure.We slew a number of the infidels, and put their master--may Godconfound him!--to inconvenience, and nothing more. Now he is on guard,we may not repeat our attempt. My judgment is that we let him try hisarmament upon our walls. They may withstand his utmost effort."
The patience this required was not put to a long test. There was asudden clamor of trumpets, and the Janissaries, taking to theirsaddles, and breaking right and left into divisions, cleared thebattery front. Immediately a vast volume of smoke hid the whole ground,followed by a series of explosions. Some balls passing over thedefences ploughed into the city; and as definitions of force, thesounds they made in going were awful; yet they were the least of theterrors. Both the towers were hit, and they shook as if an earthquakewere wrestling with them. The air whitened with dust and fragments ofcrushed stone. The men at the machines and culverins cowered to thefloor. Constantine and the Genoese gazed at each other until the latterbethought him, and ordered the fire returned. And it was well done, forthere is nothing which shall bring men round from fright like action.
Then, before there could be an exchange of opinion between the highparties on the tower, a man in half armor issued from the slowly risingcloud, and walked leisurely forward. Instead of weapons, he carried anarmful of stakes, and something which had the appearance of a heavygavel. After a careful examination of the ground to the gate, he haltedand drove a stake, and from that point commenced zigzagging down theslope, marking each angle.
Justiniani drew nearer the Emperor, and said, in a low voice: "With newagencies come new methods. The assault is deferred."
"Nay, Captain, our enemy must attack; otherwise he cannot make the moatpassable."
"That, Your Majesty, was the practice. Now he will gain the ditch by atrench."
"With what object?"
"Under cover of the trench, he will fill the ditch."
Constantine viewed the operation with increased gravity. He could seehow feasible it was to dig a covered way under fire of the guns, makingthe approach and the bombardment simultaneous; and he would havereplied, but that instant a mob of laborers--so the spades and picksthey bore bespoke them--poured from the embrasure of the larger gun,and, distributing themselves at easy working intervals along the stakedline, began throwing up the earth on the side next the city. Officerswith whips accompanied and stood over them.
The engineer--if we may apply the modern term--was at length under fireof the besieged; still he kept on; only when he exhausted his supply ofstakes did he retire, leaving it inferrible that the trench was to runthrough the opening in the cemetery to the bridge way before the gate.
At noon, the laborers being well sunk in the ground, the cannon againvomited fire and smoke, and with thunderous reports launched theirheavy bullets at the towers. Again the ancient piles shook from top tobase. Some of the balistiers were thrown down. The Emperor staggeredunder the shock. One ball struck a few feet below a merlon of theBagdad, and when the dust blew away, an ugly crack was seen in theexposed face of the wall, extending below the roof.
While the inspection of damages immediately ordered is in progress, wetake the liberty of transporting the reader elsewhere, that he may seethe effect of this amazing warfare on other parties of interest in thetragedy.
Count Corti was with his guard at the foot of the tower when the firstdischarge of artillery took place. He heard the loud reports and theblows of the shot which failed not their aim; he heard also the soundof the bullets flying on into the city, and being of a quickimagination, shuddered to think of the havoc they might inflict shouldthey fall in a thickly inhabited district. Then it came to him that theresidence of the Princess Irene must be exposed to the danger. Like aChristian and a lover, he, sought to allay the chill he felt by signingthe cross repeatedly, and with unction, on brow and breast. The piousperformance brought no relief. His dread increased. Finally he sent aman with a message informing the Emperor that he was gone to see whatdamage the guns had done in the city.
He had not ridden far when he was made aware of the prevalence of anextraordinary excitement. It seemed the entire population had beenbrought from their houses by the strange thunder, and the appallingflight of meteoric bodies over their roofs. Men and women were runningabout asking each other what had happened. At the corners he wasappealed to:
"Oh, for Christ's sake, stop, and tell us if the world is coming to anend!" Arid in pity lie answered: "Do not be so afraid, good people. Itis the Turks. They are trying to scare us by making a great noise. Goback into your houses."
"But the bullets which passed over us. What of them?"
"Where did they strike?"
"On further. God help the sufferers!"
One cry he heard so often it made an impression upon him:
"The _Panagia!_ Tell His Majesty, as he is a Christian, to bring theBlessed Madonna from the Chapel."
With each leap of his horse he was now nearing the alighting places ofthe missiles, and naturally the multiplying signs of terror heobserved, together with a growing assurance that the abode of thePrincess was in the range of danger, quickened his alarm for her. Thewhite faces of the women he met and passed without a word reminded himthe more that she was subject to the same peril, and in thought of herhe forgot to sympathize with them.
In Byzantium one might be near a given point yet far away; so did thestreets run up and down, and here and there, their eccentricities inwidth and direction proving how much more accident and whim had to dowith them originally than art or science. Knowing this, the Count wasnot sparing of his horse, and as his blood heated so did his fancy. Ifthe fair Princess were unhurt, it was scarcely possible she had escapedthe universal terror. He imagined her the object of tearful attentionfrom her attendants. Or perhaps they had run away, and left her inkeeping of the tender Madonna of Blacherne.
At last he reached a quarter where the throng of people compelled himto slacken his gait, then halt and dismount. It was but a few doorsfrom the Princess'. One house--a frame, two stories--appeared theobject of interest.
"What has happened?" he asked, addressing a tall man, who stoodtrembling and praying to a crucifix in his hand.
"God protect us, Sir Knight! See how clear the sky is, but a greatstone--some say it was a meteor--struck this house. There is the holeit made. Others say it was a bullet from the Turks.--Save us, O Son ofMary!" and he fell to kissing the crucifix.
"Was anybody hurt?" the Count asked, shaking the devotee.
"Yes--two women and a child were killed.--Save us, O Son of God! Thouhast the power from the Father."
The Count picked his way toward the house till he could get no further,so was it blocked by a mass of women on their
knees, crying, praying,and in agony of fright. There, sure enough, was a front beaten in,exposing the wrecked interior. But who was the young woman at the doorcalmly directing some men bringing out the body of one apparently dead?Her back was to him, but the sunlight was tangled in her uncoveredhair, making gold of it. Her figure was tall and slender, and there wasa marvellous grace in her action. Who was she? The Count's heart wasprophetic. He gave the bridle rein to a man near by, and holding hissword up, pushed through the kneeling mass. He might have been moreconsiderate in going; but he was in haste, and never paused until atthe woman's side. "God's mercy, Princess Irene!" he cried, "what dostthou here? Are there not men to take this charge upon them?"
And in his joy at finding her safe, he fell upon his knees, and,without waiting for her to offer the favor, took one of her hands, andcarried it to his lips.
"Nay, Count Corti, is it not for me to ask what thou dost here?"
Her face was solemn, and he could hardly determine if the eyes sheturned to him were not chiding; yet they were full of humid violetlight, and she permitted him to keep the hand while he replied:
"The Turk is for the time having his own way. We cannot get to him....I came in haste to--to see what his guns have done--or--why should Inot say it? Princess, I galloped here fearing thou wert in need ofprotection and help. I remembered that I was thy accepted knight."
She understood him perfectly, and, withdrawing her hand, returned:"Rise, Count Corti, thou art in the way of these bearing the dead."
He stood aside, and the men passed him with their burden--a womandrenched in blood.
"Is this the last one?" she asked them.
"We could find no other."
"Poor creature! ... Yet God's will be done! ... Bear her to my house,and lay her with the others." Then to the Count she said: "Come withme."
The Princess set out after the men. Immediately the women about raiseda loud lamentation; such as were nearest her cried out: "Blessings onyou!" and they kissed the hem of her gown, and followed her moaning andweeping. The body was borne into the house, and to the chapel, and allwho wished went in. Before the altar, two others were lying lifeless onimprovised biers, an elderly woman and a half-grown girl. The Lady inpicture above the altar looked down on them, as did the Holy Child inher arms; and there was much comfort to the spectators in the look.Then, when the third victim was decently laid out, Sergius began theservice for the dead. The Count stood by the Princess, her attendantsin group a little removed from them.
In the midst of the holy ministration, a sound like distant rollingthunder penetrated the chapel. Every one present knew what it was bythis time--knew at least it was not thunder--and they cried out, andclasped each other--from their knees many fell grovelling on the floor.Sergius' voice never wavered. Corti would have extended his arms togive the Princess support; but she did not so much as change color; herhands holding a silver triptych remained firm. The deadly bullets werein the air and might alight on the house; yet her mind was toosteadfast, her soul too high, her faith too exalted for alarm; and ifthe Count had been prone to love her for her graces of person, now hewas prompted to adore her for her courage.
Outside near by, there was a crash as of a flying solid smiting anotherdwelling, and, without perceptible interval, an outcry so shrill andunintermitted it required no explanation.
The Princess was the first to speak.
"Proceed, Sergius," she said; nor might one familiar with her voicehave perceived any alteration in it from the ordinary; then to theCount again: "Let us go out; there may be others needing my care."
At the door Corti said: "Stay, O Princess--a word, I pray."
She had only to look at his face to discover he was the subject of afierce conflict of spirit.
"Have pity on me, I conjure you. Honor and duty call me to the gate;the Emperor may be calling me; but how can I go, leaving you in themidst of such peril and horrors?"
"What would you have me do?"
"Fly to a place of safety."
"Where?"
"I will find a place; if not within these walls, then"--
He stopped, and his eyes, bright with passion, fell before hers; forthe idea he was about giving his tongue would be a doubly dishonorablecoinage, since it included desertion of the beleaguered city, andviolation of his compact with Mahommed.
"And then?" she asked.
And love got the better of honor.
"I have a ship in the harbor, O Princess Irene, and a crew devoted tome, and I will place you on its deck, and fly with you. Doubt not mymaking the sea; there are not Christians and Mohammedans enough to stayme once my anchor is lifted, and my oars out; and on the sea freedomlives, and we will follow the stars to Italy, and find a home."
Again he stopped, his face this time wrung with sudden anguish; then hecontinued:
"God forgive, and deal with me mercifully! I am mad! ... And thou, OPrincess--do thou forgive me also, and my words and weakness. Oh, ifnot for my sake, then for that which carried me away! Or if thou canstnot forget, pity me, pity me, and think of the wretchedness now myportion. I had thy respect, if not thy love; now both are lost--goneafter my honor. Oh! I am most miserable--miserable!"
And wringing his hands, he turned his face from her.
"Count Corti," she replied gently, "thou hast saved thyself. Let theaffair rest here. I forgive the proposal, and shall never remind theeof it. Love is madness. Return to duty; and for me"--she hesitated--"Ihold myself ready for the sacrifice to which I was born. God isfashioning it; in His own time, and in the form He chooses, He willsend it to me.... I am not afraid, and be thou not afraid for me. Myfather was a hero, and he left me his spirit. I too have my duty bornwithin the hour--it is to share the danger of my kinsman's people, togive them my presence, to comfort them all I can. I will show thee whatthou seemest not to have credited--that a woman can be brave as anyman. I will attend the sick, the wounded, and suffering. To the dying Iwill carry such consolation as I possess--all of them I can reach--andthe dead shall have ministration. My goods and values have long beenheld for the poor and unfortunate; now to the same service I consecratemyself, my house, my chapel, and altar.... There is my hand in sign offorgiveness, and that I believe thee a true knight. I will go with theeto thy horse."
He bowed his head, and silently struggling for composure, carried thehand to his lips.
"Let us go now," she said.
They went out together.
Another dwelling had been struck; fortunately it was unoccupied.
In the saddle, he stayed to say: "Thy soul, O Princess Irene, isangelic as thy face. Thou hast devoted thyself to the suffering. Am Ileft out? What word wilt thou give me?"
"Be the true knight thou art, Count Corti, and come to me as before."
He rode away with a revelation; that in womanly purity and goodnessthere is a power and inspiration beyond the claims of beauty.
The firing continued. Seven times that day the Turks assailed the GateSt. Romain with their guns; and while a few of the stones dischargedflew amiss into the city, there were enough to still further terrorizethe inhabitants. By night all who could had retreated to vaults,cellars, and such hiding-places as were safe, and took up their abodesin them. In the city but one woman went abroad without fear, and shebore bread and medicines, and dressed wounds, and assuaged sorrows, andas a Madonna in fact divided worship with the Madonna in the chapel upby the High Residence. Whereat Count Corti's love grew apace, thoughthe recollection of the near fall he had kept him humble andcircumspect.
The same day, but after the second discharge of the guns, Mahommedentered the part of his tent which, with some freedom, may be termedhis office and reception-room, since it was furnished with seats and alarge table, the latter set upon a heavily tufted rug, and litteredover with maps and writing and drawing materials. Notable amongst thelitter was the sword of Solomon. Near it lay a pair of steel gauntletselegantly gilt. One stout centre-tree, the main support of the roof ofcamel's hair, appeared gayly dressed with
lances, shields, arms, andarmor; and against it, strange to say, the companion of a bright redbattle-flag, leant the banderole Count Corti had planted before thedoor the morning of the sally. A sliding flap overhead, managed bycords in the interior, was drawn up, admitting light and air.
The office, it may be added, communicated by gay portieres with fourother apartments, each having its separate centre-tree; one occupied byKalil, the Vizier; one, a bed-chamber, so to speak; one, a stable forthe imperial stud; the fourth belonged to no less a person than ourancient and mysterious acquaintance, the Prince of India.
Mahommed was in half-armor; that is, his neck, arms, and body were inchain mail, the lightest and most flexible of the East, exquisitelygold-washed, and as respects fashion exactly like the suit habituallyaffected by Count Corti. His nether limbs were clad in wide trousers ofyellow silk, drawn close at the ankles. Pointed shoes of red leathercompleted his equipment, unless we may include a whip with heavy handleand long lash. Could Constantine have seen him at the moment, he wouldhave recognized the engineer whose performance in tracing the trench hehad witnessed with so much interest in the morning.
The Grand Chamberlain received him with the usual prostration, and inthat posture waited his pleasure.
"Bring me water. I am thirsty."
The water was brought.
"The Prince of India now."
Presently the Prince appeared in the costume peculiar to him--a cap andgown of black velvet, loose trousers, and slippers. His hair and beardwere longer than when we knew him a denizen of Constantinople, makinghis figure seem more spare and old; otherwise he was unchanged. He tooprostrated himself; yet as he sank upon his knees, he gave the Sultan aquick glance, intended doubtless to discover his temper more than hispurpose.
"You may retire."
This to the Chamberlain.
Upon the disappearance of the official, Mahommed addressed the Prince,his countenance flushed, his eyes actually sparkling.
"God is great. All things are possible to him. Who shall say no when hesays yes? Who resist when he bids strike? Salute me, and rejoice withme, O Prince. He is on my side. It was he who spoke in the thunder ofmy guns. Salute me, and rejoice. Constantinople is mine! The towerswhich have outlasted the ages, the walls which have mocked so manyconquerors--behold them tottering to their fall! I will make dust ofthem. The city which has been a stumbling-block to the true faith shallbe converted in a night. Of the churches I will make mosques. Salute meand rejoice! How may a soul contain itself knowing God has chosen itfor such mighty things? Rise, O Prince and rejoice with me!"
He caught up the sword of Solomon, and in a kind of ecstasy strodeabout flourishing it.
The Prince, arisen, replied simply: "I rejoice with my Lord;" andfolding his arms across his breast, he waited, knowing he had beensummoned for something more serious than to witness an outburst sowild--that directly this froth would disappear, as bubbles vanish fromwine just poured. The most absolute of men have their ways--this wasone of Mahommed's. And behind his composed countenance the Jew smiled,for, as he read it, the byplay was an acknowledgment of his influenceover the chosen of God.
And he was right. Suddenly Mahommed replaced the sword, and standingbefore him, asked abruptly:
"Tell me, have the stars fixed the day when I may assault the Gabours?"
"They have, my Lord."
"Give it to me."
The Prince returned to his apartment, and came back with a horoscope.
"This is their decision, my Lord."
In his character of Messenger of the Stars, the Prince of Indiadispensed with every observance implying inferiority.
Without looking at the Signs, or at the planets in their Houses;without noticing the calculations accompanying the chart; glancingmerely at the date in the central place, Mahommed frowned, and said:
"The twenty-ninth of May! Fifty-three days! By Allah and Mahomet aridChrist--all in one--if by the compound the oath will derive an extravirtue--what is there to consume so much time? In three days I willhave the towers lording this gate they call St. Romain in the ditch,and the ditch filled. In three days, I say."
"Perhaps my Lord is too sanguine--perhaps he does not sufficientlycredit the skill and resources of the enemy behind the gate--perhapsthere is more to do than he has admitted into his anticipations."
Mahommed darted a look at the speaker.
"Perhaps the stars have been confidential with their messenger, andtold him some of the things wanting to be done."
"Yes, my Lord." The calmness of the Prince astonished Mahommed.
"And art thou permitted to be confidential with me?" he asked.
"My Lord must break up this collection of his guns, and plant some ofthem against the other gates; say two at the Golden Gate, one at theCaligaria, and before the Selimbria and the Adrianople two each. Hewill have seven left.... Nor must my Lord confine his attack to thelandward side; the weakest front of the city is the harbor front, andit must be subjected. He should carry there at least two of his guns."
"Sword of Solomon!" cried Mahommed. "Will the stars show me a road topossession of the harbor? Will they break the chain which defends itsentrance? Will they sink or burn the enemy's fleet?"
"No; those are heroisms left for my Lord's endeavor."
"Thou dost taunt me with the impossible."
The Prince smiled.
"Is my Lord less able than the Crusaders? I know he is not too proud tobe taught by them. Once, marching upon the Holy City, they laid siegeto Nicea, and after a time discovered they could not master it withoutfirst mastering Lake Ascanius. Thereupon they hauled their ships threeleagues overland, and launched them in the lake." [Footnote: VONHAMMER, _Hist. de l'Emp. Ottoman._]
Mahommed became thoughtful.
"If my Lord does not distribute the guns; if he confines his attack toSt. Romain, the enemy, in the day of assault, can meet him at thebreach with his whole garrison. More serious, if the harbor is left tothe Greeks, how can he prevent the Genoese in Galata from succoringthem? My Lord derives information from those treacherous people in theday; does he know of the intercourse between the towns by boats in thenight? If they betray one side, will they be true to the other? MyLord, they are Christians; so are these with whom we are at war."
The Sultan sank into a seat; and satisfied with the impression he hadmade, the Prince wisely allowed him his thoughts.
"It is enough!" said the former, rising. Then fixing his eye on hisconfederate, he asked: "What stars told thee these things, O Prince?"
"My Lord, the firmament above is God's, and the sun and planets thereare his mercifully to our common use. But we have each of us afirmament of our own. In mine, Reason is the sun, and of its stars Imention two--Experience and Faith. By the light of the three, Isucceed; when I refuse them, one or all, I surrender to chance."
Mahommed caught up the sword, and played with its ruby handle, turningit at angles to catch its radiations; at length he said:
"Prince of India, thou hast spoken like a Prophet. Go call Kalil andSaganos."
