by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER VII
THE PRINCE OF INDIA MEETS CONSTANTINE
It is to be remembered now, as very material to our story, that the daythe Prince of India resolved on the excursion up the Bosphorus withLael the exquisite stretch of water separated the territorialpossessions of the Greek Emperor and the Sultan of the Turks.
In 1355 the utmost of the once vast Roman dominions was "a corner ofThrace between the Propontis (Marmora) and the Black Sea, about fiftymiles in length and thirty in breadth." [Footnote: Gibbon.]
When Constantine Dragases--he of whom we are writing--ascended thethrone, the realm was even more diminished.
Galata, just across the Golden Horn, had become a Genoese stronghold.
Scutari, on the Asiatic shore almost _vis-a-vis_ with Constantinople,was held by a Turkish garrison.
With small trouble the Sultan could have converted the pitiful marginbetween Galata and the Cyanean rocks on the Black Sea.
Once indeed he set siege to Constantinople, but was beaten off, it wassaid, by the Mother of God, who appeared upon the walls of the city,and in person took part in the combat. Thereafter he contented himselfwith a tribute from the Emperors Manuel and John Palaeologus.
The relations of the Christian and Moslem potentates being thusfriendly, it can be seen how the Princess Irene could keep to herpalace by Therapia and the Prince of India plan jaunts along theBosphorus.
Still there is a point to be borne in mind. Ships under Christian flagsseldom touched at a landing upon the Asiatic shore. Their captainspreferred anchoring in the bays and close under the ivy-covered heightsof Europe. This was not from detestation or religious intolerance; atbottom there was a doubt of the common honesty of the strong-handedTurk amounting to fear. The air was rife with stories of his treachery.The fishermen in the markets harrowed the feelings of their timidcustomers with tales of surprises, captures, and abductions.Occasionally couriers rushed through the gates of Constantinople toreport red banners in motion, and the sound of clarions and drums,signifying armies of Moslems gathering for mysterious purposes.
The Moslems, on their part, it is but fair to say, were possessed ofthe same doubts of the Christians, and had answers to accusationsalways ready. The surprises, captures, and abductions were theunlicensed savageries of brigands, of whom they never knew one not aGreek; while the music and flags belonged to the militia.
Six or seven miles above Scutari a small river, born in the adjacenthighlands, runs merrily down to meet and mingle with the tidelessBosphorus. The water it yields is clear and fresh; whence the name ofthe stream, The Sweet Waters of Asia. On its south side there is aprairie-like stretch, narrow, but green and besprent with an orchard ofsycamores old and gnarled, and now much frequented on MohammedanSundays by ladies of the harems, who contrive to make it very gay. Nodoubt the modest river, and the grass and great trees were just asattractive ages before the first Amurath, with an army at his heels,halted there for a night. From that time, however, it was banned by theGreeks; and for a reason.
On the north bank of the little river there was a fortress known as theWhite Castle. An irregular, many-angled pile of undressed stone heavilymerloned on top, its remarkable feature was a tall donjon which a dingywhite complexion made visible a great distance, despite its frecklingof loopholes and apertures for machine artillery. Seeing its militaryimportance, the Sultan left a garrison to hold it. He was also pleasedto change its name to Acce-Chisar.
The blood-red flag on this donjon was, at the era engaging us, thedisenchanter of the Greeks; insomuch that in passing the Sweet Watersof Asia they hugged the opposite shore of the Bosphorus, crossingthemselves and muttering prayers often of irreligious compound. A storkhas a nest on the donjon now. As an apparition it is not nearly sosuggestive as the turbaned sentinel who used to occupy its outlook.
The popular imagination located dungeons under the grim old Castle,whence, of the many Christian men and women immured there, it was saidnone ever came forth alive.
But for these things, whether true or false, the Prince of India caredlittle. He was not afraid of the Turks. If the Asiatic shore had beenfestooned with red flags from the City of the Blind down by the Islesof the Princes to the last of the gray fortresses overlooking theSymplegades, it would not have altered a plan of his jot or tittle.Enough that Lael wanted and needed an outing on the glorious Bosphorus.
Accordingly, shortly after noon two chairs were brought and set down inhis house. That is to say, two upright boxes fixed centrally on poles,and differing in nowise from the sedans still the mode of carriageaffected by ladies of Constantinople unless it might be in their richerappointments. Inside, all was silk, lace and cushions; outside, theinlaying of mother of pearl and vari-colored woods was suggestive ofmodern papier-mache. The entrance was by a door in the front. A windowin the door, and lesser ones on the sides, afforded the inmate air andopportunity for speech. Not wanting to be seen, she had only to drawthe curtains together. In this instance it must be said the decorationof the carriages had been carried to an extreme.
Soon as the chairs were set down in the house, the Prince and Laeldescended the stairs. The latter was attired in a semi-Greek costume,very rich and becoming; to embroidery of gold, she added bracelets, anda necklace of large pearls strung between spheres of gold equallylarge. A coronet graced her head, and it was so bejewelled that inbright light it seemed some one was sprinkling her with an incessantshower of sparkles.
The two took their seats. The carriers, two to each litter, stalwartmen, uniformly clad in loose white garments, raised the poles on theirshoulders. Syama threw the door of the house open, and at a signal fromthe Prince the procession sallied into the street. The crowd, inexpectant waiting there, received it in silent wonder.
It is due the truth to say now that the common eye was attracted by theappearance of Nilo as much as by the rarities wrought in the panellingof the carriages. He strode ten or twelve feet in advance of Lael who,in the place of honor, was completely under the Prince's observation.The negro's costume was of a King of Kash-Cush. The hair stood on endin stiff cues, sharply pointed, and held by a chain of silver medals;an immense ring of silver hung from the cartilage of his nose. The neckwas defended by a gorget of leather bristling with the fangs and clawsof tigers in alternating rows. A robe of scarlet cloth large enough toenvelop the man was thrown behind the massive shoulders. The body,black as polished ebony, was naked to the waist, whence a white skirtfell to the knees. The arms and legs were adorned with bracelets andanklets of ivory, while the straps of the heavy sandals were borderedwith snail-shells. On the left arm he bore a round shield of rhinoceroshide embossed in brass; in the right hand, a pointless lance. Toweringhigh above the heads of the crowd which opened before him withalacrity, the admiration received by the Prince's ally and friend wasbut a well-deserved tribute.
"A tiger-hunter!" said one, to a friend at his elbow.
"I should call him king of the tiger-hunters," the friend replied.
"Only a Prince of India would carry such a pensioner with him," anotherremarked.
"What a man!" said a woman, half afraid.
"An infidel, no doubt," was the answer.
"It is not a Christian wish, I know," the first added; "still I shouldlike to see him face a lion in the Cynegion."
"Ay, him they call Tamerlane, because he is shorn of two toes."
The Prince, casting a glance of scarce concealed contempt over thethrong, sighed, as he muttered, "If now I could meet the Emperor!"
The exclamation was from his heart.
We have seen the idea which lured him to Mecca, and brought him toConstantinople. In the years since flown, it was held subordinate tohis love of Lael--subordinate merely. Latterly it had revived with muchof its original force, and he was now for the first time seriouslyscheming for an interview with the Emperor. No doubt a formal requestwould have secured the honor; but it was in his view better policy tobe sought than seek, and with all his wealth, there was nothing hecould so well afford to
pay for success as time. In his study, he wascontinually saying to himself:
"It cannot be that the extravagances to which I am going will fail. Hewill hear of me, or we may meet--then the invitation!--And then I willpropose the Brotherhood--God help me! But it is for him to invite me.Patience, O my soul!"
Extravagances!
The exclamation helps us to an understanding of the style he wascarrying before the public--the silvering on his own black velvet robe,the jewels in Lael's coronet bursting with light, the gorgeous finishof the sedans, the barbaric costuming of Nilo. They were notsignificant of his taste. Except for what they might bring him, he didnot care for jewels. And as for Lael, he would have loved her for hername's sake, and her honest, untarnished Jewish blood. Let us believeso at least until we find otherwise.
Nilo, by this time familiar with every quarter of the city, was toldthe boat was in readiness for the party at a landing near the GrandGate of Blacherne; to make which, it being on the Golden Horn well upin the northwest, he must turn the hill back of the Prince's residence,and pursue one of the streets running parallel with the wall. Thitherhe accordingly bent his steps, followed by the porters of the sedans,and an increasing but respectful assemblage of curious citizens.
Scarcely had the progress begun before the Prince, watching through hisfront window, saw a man approach the side of Lael's chair, and peerinto it. His wit served him well and instantly.
"'Tis he--the insolent!--Close up!" he cried, to his porters.
The intruder at the sound of his voice looked at him once, thendisappeared in the throng. He was young, handsome, showily dressed, andbeyond question the person of whom Lael had complained. Though smartingunder the insult, and a suspicion, suddenly engendered, of a watch keptover his house, the Prince concluded the stranger was of nobleconnection, and that the warrant for his boldness was referable tofamily influence. While his subtle mind was pothering with schemes ofdetection, the affair presented itself in another light, and he laughedat his own dulness.
"'Tis nothing," he reflected--"nothing! The boy is in love, andallowing his passion to make a fool of him. I have only to see mypretty Gul-Bahar does not return the madness."
Deciding then to make inquiry and satisfy himself who the young admirerwas, he dismissed the subject.
Presently Nilo turned into a street of some width compared with thegenerality of thoroughfares in the city. On the left hand were shopsand pretentious houses; on the right, towered the harbor wall. Thepeople attending the procession increased instead of dispersing; but asthey continued in good nature, they gave him no concern. Their commentsamongst themselves were about equally divided between Nilo and Lael.
"Beautiful, beautiful!" one said, catching sight of the latter throughthe windows of the chair.
"Who is she?"
"A daughter of a Prince of India."
"And the Prince--Who is he?"
"Ask some one who knows. There he is in the second chair."
Once a woman went close to Lael, snatched a look, and stepped back,with clasped hands, crying:
"'Tis the Sweet Mother herself!"
Without other incident, the procession passed the gate of St. Peter,and was nearing that of Blacherne, when a flourish of trumpetsannounced a counter pageant coming down the street from the oppositedirection. A man near by shouted:
"The Emperor! The Emperor!"
Another seconded him.
"Long live the good Constantine!"
The words were hardly uttered before they were answered:
"The _azymite_! The _azymite_! Down with the betrayer of Christ!"
In less than a minute the Prince was being borne along in the midst oftwo howling factions. Scarcely knowing whether to take Lael into ahouse or go on, he tried to communicate with Nilo; but inunconsciousness of the tempest so suddenly risen, that grandson of aking marched on in unremitted stateliness, until directly a band oftrumpeters in magnificent livery confronted him.
The astonishment was mutual. Nilo halted, dropping his headless lancein defence; the trumpeters quit blowing, and, opening order, filedhastily by him, their faces saying with a distinctness words could nothave helped:
"A son of Satan! Beware!"
The chairs were also brought to a halt.
Thereupon the people, now a mob apparently ready to tear each otherinto bloody ribbons, refused to give way to the trumpeters. Nilofinally comprehending the situation returned to Lael just as the Princeon foot came up to her. She was pale and trembling with fear.
The deadlock between the musicians and the mob was brought to an end bythe appearance of a detachment of the Imperial guard. A mountedofficer, javelin in hand, rode up and shouted:
"The Emperor! Make way for the Emperor!"
While he was speaking, the horsemen behind him came on steadily. Therewas irresistible persuasion in the glitter of their spears; besides itwas matter of universal knowledge that the steel panoply of each riderconcealed a mercenary foreigner who was never so happy as when ridingover a Greek. One yell louder and more defiant than any yetuttered--"The azymite, the azymite!"--and the mob broke and fled. At asignal from the officer, the guards, as they came on, opened right andleft of the chairs, and passed them with scarce notice.
A few words from the Prince to Lael dispelled her fears.
"It is an every-day affair," he said, lightly; "an amusement of thepeople, the Roman factionists against the Greek. Nobody is ever hurt,except in howling he opens his jaws too wide."
The levity was affected, but mastering the irritation he really felt,the Prince was about to make acknowledgment to the officer for histimely intervention, when another personage appeared, claiming hisattention. Indeed his heart began beating unusually fast, and in spiteof himself his face flushed--he knew he had his wish--the meeting withConstantine was come!
The last Emperor of the Byzantines sat in an open chair borne upon theshoulders of eight carriers in striking livery--a handsome man in hisforty-sixth year, though apparently not more than thirty-eight orforty. His costume was that of Basileus, which was a religious dignity.
A close-fitting cap of red velvet covered his head, with a knot ofpurple silk triply divided on the top; while a pliable circlet ofgolden scales, clearing the brows, held the cap securely in place. Oneach scale a ruby of great size sparkled in solitaire setting. Thecirclet was further provided with four strings of pearls, two by eachear, dangling well down below in front of the shoulders. A loose drabrobe or gown, drawn close at the waist, clothed him, neck, arms, bodyand nether limbs, answering excellently as ground for a cope the colorof the cap, divided before and behind into embroidered squares definedby rows of pearls. Boots of purple leather, also embroidered, gavefinish to the costume. Instead of sword or truncheon, he carried aplain ivory crucifix. The people staring at him from the doors andwindows knew he was going to Sancta Sophia intent on some religiousservice.
While the Emperor was thus borne down upon the Prince, his dark eyes,kindly looking, glanced from Nilo to Lael, and finally came to restfull upon the face of the master. The officer returned to him. A fewpaces off, the imperial chair stopped, and a conversation ensued,during which a number of high officials who were of the sovereign'ssuite on foot closed up in position to separate their Lord from amounted rear guard.
The Prince of India kept his mind perfectly. Having exchanged glanceswith the Emperor, he was satisfied an impression was made strong enoughto pique curiosity, and at the same time fix him in the royal memory.With a quick sense of the proprieties, he thereupon addressed himselfto moving his carriages to the left, that when the conference with theofficers was concluded the Emperor might have the right of way with theleast possible obstruction.
Presently the Acolyte--such the officer proved to be--approached thePrince.
"His Imperial Majesty," he said, courteously, "would be pleased could Iinform him the name and title of the stranger whose progress he hasbeen so unfortunate as to interrupt."
The Prince answered with dignity:
/> "I thank you, noble sir, for the fair terms in which you couch theinquiry, not less than the rescue I and my daughter owe you from themob."
The Acolyte bowed.
"And not to keep his Imperial Majesty waiting," the Prince continued,"return him the compliments of a Prince of India, at present a residentof this royal and ancient capital. Say also it will give me happinessfar beyond the power of words when I am permitted to salute him, andrender the veneration and court to which his character and placeamongst the rulers of the earth entitle him."
At the conclusion of the complex, though courtierly reply, the speakerwalked two steps forward, faced the Emperor, and touched the groundwith his palms, and rising, carried them to his forehead.
The answer duly delivered, the Emperor responded to the salaam with abow and another message.
"His Imperial Majesty," the Acolyte said, "is pleased at meeting thePrince of India. He was not aware he had a guest of such distinction inhis capital. He desires to know the place of residence of his noblefriend, that he may communicate with him, and make amends for thehindrance which has overtaken him to-day."
The Prince gave his address, and the interview ended.
It is of course the reader's privilege to pass judgment upon theincidents of this rencounter; at least one of the parties to it wasgreatly pleased, for he knew the coveted invitation would speedilyfollow.
While the Emperor was borne past, Lael received his notice moreespecially than her guardian; when they were out of hearing, he calledthe Acolyte to his side.
"Didst thou observe the young person yonder?" he asked.
"The coronet she wears certifies the Prince of India to be vastlyrich," the other answered.
"Yes, the Princes of India, if we may judge by common report, are allrich; wherefore I thought not of that, but rather of the beauty of hisdaughter. She reminded me of the Madonna on the Panagia in the transeptof our church at Blacherne."
