The Prince of India; Or, Why Constantinople Fell — Volume 01

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER XIX

  TWO TURKISH TALES

  The situation now offered the reader is worth a pause, if only to fixit in mind.

  Constantine and Mahommed, soon to be contestants in war, are comingface to face, lovers both of the same woman. The romance is obvious;yet it is heightened by another circumstance. One of them is in danger.

  We of course know Aboo-Obeidah, the Singing Sheik, is Prince Mahommedin disguise; we know the Prince also as heir of Amurath the Sultan, avery old man liable to vacate place and life at any moment. Suppose nowthe rash adventurer--the term fits the youth truly as if he werewithout rank--should be discovered and denounced to the Emperor. Theconsequences can only be treated conjecturally.

  In the first place, to what extremities the Prince would be put inexplaining his presence there. He could plead the invitation of thePrincess Irene. But his rival would be his judge, and the judge mightfind it convenient to laugh at the truth, and rest his decision on theprisoner's disguise, in connection with his own presence--two factssufficiently important to serve the most extreme accusation.

  Constantine, next, was a knightly monarch who knew to live nobly, anddared die as he lived; yet, thinking of what he might do with Mahommedfallen into his hands under circumstances so peculiar, there was nevera Caesar not the slave of policy. In the audience to Manuel the sailor,we have seen how keenly sensitive he was to the contraction the empirehad suffered. Since that day, to be sure, he had managed to keep theterritory he came to; none the less, he felt the Turk to whom thestolen provinces invariably fell was his enemy, and that truce ortreaty with him did not avail to loosen the compression steadilygrowing around his capital. Over and over, daytime and night, theunhappy Emperor pondered the story of the daughter of Tantalus; andoften, starting from dreams in which the Ottoman power was a serpentslowly crawling to its victim, he would cry in real agony--"OConstantinople--Niobe! Who can save thee but God? And if He willnot--alas, alas!" The feeling thus engendered was not of a kind toyield readily to generosity. Mahommed once securely his, everythingmight be let go--truth, honor, glory--everything but the terms ofadvantage purchasable with such an hostage.

  The invitation to the imaginary Sheik had been a last act of grace byIrene, about to embark for the city. Mahommed, when he accepted, knewTherapia by report a village very ancient historically, but decaying,and now little more than a summer resort and depot of supplies forfishermen. That its proverbial quietude would be disturbed, and thesleepy blood of its inhabitants aroused, by a royal galley anchoring inthe bay to discharge the personnel of the empire itself, could have hadno place in his anticipations. So when he stepped into a boat, theAboo-Obeidah of his eulogy, and suffered himself, without an attendant,to be ferried across to Roumeli-Hissar; when he there took an humblewherry of two oars, and bade the unliveried Greeks who served them pullfor Therapia, it was to see again the woman who was taking his fancyinto possession, not Constantine and his court bizarre in splendor andhabitude. In other words, Mahommed on setting out had no idea ofdanger. Love, or something very like it, was his sole inspiration.

  The trireme, with the white cross on its red sail, its deck a martialand courtly spectacle, had been reported to him as the hundred andtwenty flashing scarlet blades, in their operation a miracle of unity,whisked it by the old Castle, and he had come forth to see it. Whereare they going? he asked those around him; and they, familiar with theBosphorus, its shipping and navigation, answered unanimously, Toexercise her crew up in the Black Sea; and thinking of the breadth ofthe dark blue fields there, the reply commended itself, and hedismissed the subject.

  The course chosen by his boatmen when they put off from Roumeli-Hissarkept him close to the European shore, which he had leisure to study.Then, as now, it was more favored than its Asiatic opposite. The windsfrom the sea, southward blowing, unloaded their mists to vivify its ivyand myrtle. The sunlight, tarrying longest over its pine-clad summits,coaxed habitations along the shore; here, a palace; there, under anoverhanging cliff, a hamlet; yonder, a long extended villagecomplaisantly adapting itself to the curvatures of the brief marginleft it for occupancy. Wherever along the front of the heights and onthe top there was room for a field the advantage had been seized. Sothe Prince had offered him the sight of all others most significant ofpeace among men--sight of farmers tilling the soil. With the lucid skyabove him summer-laden, the water under and about him a liquidatmosphere, the broken mountain-face changing from lovely to lovelier,and occasionally awakening him with a superlative splendor, the abodesso near, and the orchards and strawberry and melon patches overhead,symbolizing goodwill and fraternity and happiness amongst the poor andhumble--with these, and the rhythmic beating of the oars to soothe hisspirit, fierce and mandatory even in youth, he went, the time dividedbetween views fair enough for the most rapturous dreams, and the Greek,of whom, with all their brightness, they were but dim suggestions. Pastthe stream-riven gorge of Balta-Liman he went; past Emirghian; past thehaven of Stenia, and the long shore-town of Yenikeui; then, halfturning the Keuibachi bend, lo! Therapia, draggling down the stonysteep, like a heap of bangles on a brown-red cheek. And there, in thesoft embracement of the bay, a bird with folded wings asleep--the_trireme_!

  The sight startled the Prince. He spoke to the rowers, and they ceasedfighting the current, and with their chins over their shoulders, lookedwhither he pointed. From ship to shore he looked; then, pursuing thecurve inland to the bridge at the upper end; thence down what may becalled the western side, he beheld people crowding between a quay and ared kiosk over which pended a wooded promontory.

  "There is a Princess living in this vicinity," said he to one of therowers, slightly lifting the handkerchief from his face. "Where is herpalace?"

  "In the garden yonder. You see the gate over the heads of the men andwomen."

  "What is her name?"

  "Princess Irene. She is known on this shore as the Good Princess."

  "Irene--a sound pleasant to the ear"--Mahommed muttered. "Why is shecalled good?"

  "Because she is an angel of mercy to the poor."

  "That is not usual with the great and rich," he said next, yielding toa charm in the encomiums.

  "Yes," the boatman responded, "she is great, being akin to the Emperor,and rich, too, though"--

  Here the man broke off to assist in bringing the boat back from itsrecession with the current, at this point boisterously swift.

  "You were saying the Princess is rich," Mahommed said, when the oarswere again at rest.

  "Oh, yes! But I cannot tell you, my friend, how many are partners inher wealth. Every widow and orphan who can get to her comes away with aportion. Isn't it so?"

  His companion grunted affirmatively, adding: "Down yonder a man with acrooked back lives in an arched cell opening on the water. Perhaps thestranger saw it as he came up."

  "Yes," Mahommed answered.

  "Well, in the back part of the cell he has an altar with a crucifix anda picture of the Blessed Mother on it, and he keeps a candle burningbefore them day and night--something he could not do if we did not helphim, for candles of wax are costly. He has named the altar after thePrincess, Sta. Irene. We often stop and go in there to pray; and I haveheard the blessings in the light of that candle are rich and many asthe Patriarch has for sale in Sta. Sophia."

  These praises touched Mahommed; for, exalted as he was in station, hewas aware of the proneness of the poor to berate the rich and grumbleat the great, and that such had been a habit with them from thecommencement of the world. Again the boat slipped down the current;when it was brought back, he asked: "When did the ship yonder come up?"

  "This morning."

  "Oh, yes! I saw it then, but thought the crew were being taken to thesea for practice."

  "No," the boatman replied, "it is the state galley of His Majesty theEmperor. Did you not see him? He sat on the throne with all hisministers and court around him."

  Mahommed was startled.

  "Where is the Emperor now?" he inquired.
/>   "I should say, seeing the crowd yonder, that His Majesty is in thepalace with the Princess."

  "Yes," said the second rower, "they are waiting to see him come out."

  "Row out into the bay. I should like to have the view from thatquarter."

  While making the detour, Mahommed reflected. Naturally he rememberedhimself the son of Amurath; after which it was easy to marshal theconsequences of exposure, if he persisted in his venture. He sawdistinctly how his capture would be a basis of vast bargaining with hisfather, or, if the sturdy old warrior preferred revenge to payment of aruinous ransom, how the succession and throne might slip to another,leaving him a prisoner for life.

  Yet another matter presented itself to him which the reader may decideworthy a separate paragraph. Its mention has been waiting thisopportunity. The Prince from Magnesia, his seat of government, was onthe way to Adrianople, called thither by his father, who had chosen abride for him, daughter of a renowned Emir. Regularly he would havecrossed the Hellespont at Gallipoli; a whim, however, took him to theWhite Castle--whim or destiny, one being about as satisfactory as theother. Pondering silently whether it were not best to return, hethought, apropos the Princess Irene, of the nuptials to be celebrated,and of his bride expectant; and a Christian, pausing over thesuggestion, may be disposed to condemn him for inconstancy.

  In countries where many wives are allowed the same husband he is notrequired to love any of them. Indeed, his fourth spouse may be thefirst to command him; hers the eyes for his enslavement; hers the voiceof the charmer charming both wisely and forever. Mahommed did now thinkof the Emir's daughter, but not with compunction, nor even incomparison. He had never seen her face, and would not until after thewedding days. He thought of her but to put her aside; she could not beas this Christian was, neither so accomplished nor courtly; besideswhich, it was dawning upon him that there were graces of mind and soulas well as of person, while perfection was a combination of all thegraces in equal degree. Gleams of the latter had visited him whilegazing into the radiant face of the Emperor's kinswoman; and how, atsuch favoring times, his fancy had gone out to her and come backwarmed, enlivened, glorified! There is a passion of the mind and apassion of the blood; and though one and one make two, two is still amultiple of one.

  Looking thus at the galley, Mahommed thought of the tales in the Eastnot less common than in the West, and believed in them faithfully, forchivalry was merely on the wane--tales of beauteous damsels shut up incaves or adamantine castles, with guardian lions couchant at the gates,and of well-sworded heroes who marched boldly up to the brutes, andslew them, and delivered the captives always with reward. Of course, inmaking the application, the Princess was the prisoner, the ship thelion, and himself--well, in want of a sword, he laid hand upon hisdagger, precisely as a liberating knight up to the ideal would do.

  Nor was this all. The revelations of the Prince of India were stillfresh to him. He wished to see his competitor. How did he look? Wasthere enough of him to make battle? He smiled thinking of the pleasurethere would be in slyly studying the Princess and the Emperor at thesame time. He drew the handkerchief down, looked at his brown-stainedhands, and adjusted the folds of his burnoose. The disguise was perfect.

  "Take me to the landing--there before the gate of the Good Princess,"he said, with the air of a traveller above suspicion.

  His resolution was taken. Challenging all chances, he would respond tothe invitation of the Princess. And so completely were doubt andhesitation dismissed with our adventurer, that it was not Mahommed whostepped from the boat where the populace was in densest assemblage, butAboo-Obeidah, the Singing Sheik, and as such we will speak of him.

  The guard at the gate, viewing him askance, detained him until he couldbe reported.

  A fair conception of the scene presented when the Sheik stood on thefloor of the portico is probably in the reader's mind; yet a glance atit may be pardoned. It was at first like a sudden introduction to anoriental garden. There were the vines, flowering shrubs, fruitingtrees, many-fronded palms, and the effect of outdoors derived from theshadows of the pillars, and the sunshine streaming brilliantly throughthe open intervals. The tables bore proofs of the collation served uponthem. Overhead was the soft creaminess of pure marble in protectedstate mellowed by friendly touches of time. At the end of the vista,the company was indistinctly visible through the verdure of obtrudingbranches. Voices came to him from that part, and gleams of brightgarments; and to get to them it seemed he must pass through aviridescent atmosphere flecked with blooms, and faintly sweet withodors. For in losing the masculinity of their race the Greeks devotedthemselves more and more to refined effeminacies.

  Moving slowly forward under the guidance of Lysander, whose javelinbeating the floor accentuated the rasping shuffle of his sandals, theSheik came presently to a full view of the concourse.

  He stopped, partly in obedience to a fine instinct of proprietyteaching him he was now subject to the pleasure of his hostess, andpartly to single out the royal enemy against whom he believed he wasabout to be pitted by destiny.

  Constantine was sitting at ease, his left elbow resting on an arm ofthe sedilium, his forefinger supporting his cheek, his cloak across hislap. The attitude was reflective; the countenance exposed under thelifted visor of the helmet, was calm and benignant; except there was nosuggestion of an evil revery holding the current of his thought, orcasting a shade of uncertainty over his soul, he looked not unlike thefamous Il Penseroso familiar to art-seekers in the Medici Chapel ofFlorence. Then the eyes of the rivals met. The Greek was in no wisemoved. How it would have been with him could he have seen through thedisguise of the Sheik may never be said. On the other part, the Sheiklifted his head, and seemed taking on increase of stature. A projectingfold of the head-kerchief overhung his face, permitting nothing to beseen but red-hued cheeks, a thin beard, and eyes black and glittering.The review he felt himself undergoing did not daunt him; it only senthis pride mounting, like a leap of flame. "By the Virgin!" said one ofthe courtiers to another, in a louder tone than the occasion demanded."We may indeed congratulate ourselves upon having seen the king ofcamel drivers." There was a disposition to laugh amongst thelighter-minded of the guests, but the Princess checked it by rising."Bid the Sheik approach," she said, to the old domestic; and, at a signfrom her, the waiting-women drew closer about her chair. The figure ofthe Princess clad all in white, a bracelet of plain gold upon her leftarm, fillets in her hair, one red, the other blue, a double strand ofpearls about her neck--this figure, with the small head, perfect inturn, set matchlessly upon the sloping shoulders, the humid eyes fullof violet light, the cheeks flushed with feeling--this figure so brightin its surroundings, admitted no rivalry in attention, none inadmiration; the courtiers, old and young, turned from the Sheik, andthe Sheik from the Emperor. In a word, every eye centred upon thePrincess, every tongue bade hush lest what she said might be lost.Etiquette required the Sheik's presentation to the Emperor first, butseeing her about to comply with the rule, he prostrated himself at herfeet. As he arose, she said: "When I invited you to come and give memore of the cheer there is in your art, O Sheik, I did not know mygracious kinsman, to whom every Greek is proud and happy to beallegiant, designed visiting me to-day. I pray you will not suffer toomuch from his presence, but regard him a royal auditor who delights ina tale well told, and in verses when the theme and measure go lovinglytogether. His Majesty, the Emperor!"

  "Hist! Didst hear?" whispered the Professor of Philosophy to theProfessor of Rhetoric. "Thyself couldst not have spoken better."

  "Ay, truly," the other answered. "Save a trifle of stiffness, thespeech might have served Longinus."

  With her last word, the Princess stepped aside, leaving Mahommed andConstantine front to front.

  Had the Sheik been observant of the monarch's dues, he would havepromptly prostrated himself; but the moment for the salutation passed,and he remained standing, answering the look he received calmly as itwas given. The reader and the writer know the reason go
verning him; thesuite, however, were not so well informed, and they began to murmur.The Princess herself appeared embarrassed.

  "Lord of Constantinople," the Sheik said, seeing speech was his, "wereI a Greek, or a Roman, or an Ottoman, I should make haste to kiss thefloor before you, happy of the privilege; for--be the concession wellnoted"--he glanced deferentially around him as he spoke--"the reportwhich the world has of you is of a kind to make it your lover. After afew days--Allah willing--I shall stand before Amurath the Sultan.Though in reverencing him I yield not to any one simply his friend, hewill waive prostration from me, knowing what Your Majesty may not. Inmy country we cleanse the ground with our beards before no one but God.Not that we are unwilling to conform to the rules of the courts inwhich we find ourselves; with us it is a law--To kiss a man's handmaketh him the master; prostrate thyself to him, and without other act,thou becomest his subject. I am an Arab!"

  The Sheik was not in the least defiant; on the contrary, his manner wasstraightforward, simple, sincere, as became one interposing conscienceagainst an observance in itself rightful enough. Only in the lastexclamation was there a perceptible emphasis, a little marked by a liftof the head and a kindling of the eyes.

  "I see Your Majesty comprehends me," he said, continuing; "yet tofurther persuade your court, and especially the fair and high-bornlady, whose guest, with all my unworthiness, I am, from believing memoved in this matter by disrespect for their sovereign, I say next, ifby prostration I made myself a Roman, the act would be binding on thetribe whose Sheik I am by lawful election. And did I that, O thou whosebounties serve thy people in lieu of rain! though my hand were white,like the first Prophet's, when, to assure the Egyptian, he drew it fromhis bosom, it would char blacker than dust of burned willow--then, Othou, lovelier than the queen the lost lapwing reported to Solomon!though my breath were as the odor of musk, it would poison, like anexhalation from a leper's grave--then, O my lords! like Karoon in hiswickedness, I should hear Allah say of me, O Earth, swallow him! For asthere are crimes and crimes, verily the chief who betrays his brethrenborn to the practice of freedom, shall wander between tents all hisdays, crying, Oh, alas! oh, alas! Who now will defend me against God?"

  When the Sheik paused, as if for judgment, he was not only acquitted ofintentional disrespect; the last grumbler was anxious to hear himfurther.

  "What astonishing figures!" the Philosopher whispered to theRhetorician. "I begin to think it true that the East hath a style ofits own."

  "I commend thy sagacity, my brother," the other replied. "Hisperoration was redolent of the Koran--A wonderful fellow nevertheless!"

  Presently the whole concourse was looking at the Emperor, with whom itrested whether the Sheik should be dismissed or called on forentertainment.

  "Daughter," said Constantine to the Princess, "I know not enough of thetribal law of thy guest to have an opinion of the effect upon him andhis of the observance of our ancient ceremony; wherefore we are boundto accept his statement. Moreover it does not become our dignity toacquire subjects and dominion, were they ever so desirable, in a methodjustly liable to impeachment for treachery and coercion. Besideswhich--and quite as important, situated as we are--thy hospitality isto be defended."

  Here the Sheik, who had been listening to the Emperor, and closelyobserving him, thrice lightly clapped his hands.

  "It remains for us, therefore, to waive the salutation in thisinstance."

  A ripple of assent proceeded from the suite.

  "And now, daughter," Constantine pursued, "thy guest being present togive thee of his lore, it may be he will be pleased to have us of hisaudience as well. Having heard much of such performances, andremembering their popularity when we were in our childhood, we willesteem ourselves fortunate if now favored by one highly commended as amaster in his guild."

  The Sheik's eyes sparkled brighter as he answered, "It is written forus in our Holiest, the very Word of the Compassionate,--'If ye aregreeted with a greeting, then greet ye with a better greeting, or atleast return it.' Verily my Lord dispenseth honor with so light a handas not to appear aware of the doing. When my brethren under the blacktents are told of my having won the willing ear of their Majesties ofByzantium and Adrianople, they will think of me as one who has beenpermitted to walk in the light of two suns simultaneous in shining."

  So saying, he bowed very low.

  "My only unhappiness now is in not knowing the direction in which myLord's preferences run; for as a stream goes here and there, but allthe time keeps one general course, seeking the sea, so with taste;though it yield a nod now, and then a smile, it hath always a deeperdelight for the singer's finding. I have the gay and serious--history,traditions--the heroics of men and nations, their heart-throbs in verseand prose--all or any for the Lord of Constantinople and his kinswoman,my hostess,--may her life never end until the song of the dove ceasesto be heard in the land!"

  "What say you, my friends?" asked Constantine, glancing graciously atthose around him.

  Then they looked from him to the Princess, and in thought of thebetrothal, replied, "Love--something of love!"

  "No," he returned, unflinchingly. "We are youths no longer. There isenlightenment in the traditions of nations. Our neighbors, theTurks--what hast thou of them, Sheik?"

  "Didst thou hear?" said Notaras to one at his elbow. "He hath recanted;the Empress will not be a Greek."

  There was no answer; for the Sheik, baring his head, hung the kerchiefand cord upon his arm, preliminaries which gave him perfectly to view.A swarthy face; hair black, profuse, closely cut along the temples;features delicate but manly--these the bystanders saw in a general way,being more attracted by the repressed fire in the man's eyes, and hisair high and severely noble.

  When the Princess caught sight of the countenance, she fell into aconfusion. She had seen it, but where and when? The instant he wasbeginning he gazed at her, and in the exchange of glances she wasreminded of the Governor bidding her adieu on the shore of the SweetWaters. But he was youthful, while this one--could it be he was old?The feeling was a repetition of that she had in the Castle when thestoryteller appeared the first time.

  "I will tell how the Turks became a Nation."

  Then, in Greek but a little broken, the Sheik began a recital.

  ALAEDDIN AND ERTOGHRUL

  I

  A tale of Ertoghrul!-- How when the Chief Lay one day nooning with his stolen herds, A sound of drumming smote him from the East, And while he stood to see what came of it, The West with like notes fainter, echo-like, Made answer; then two armies rode in view, Horses and men in steel, the sheen of war About them and above, and wheeling quick From column into line, drew all their blades, Shook all their flags, and charged and lost themselves In depths of dusty clouds, which yet they tore With blinding gleams of light, and yells of rage, And cheers so high and hoarse they well might seem The rolling thunder of a mountain storm. Long time the hosts contended; but at last The lesser one began to yield the ground, Oppressed in front, and on its flanks o'erwhelmed: And hasted then the end, a piteous sight, Most piteous to the very brave who know From lessons of their lives, how seldom 'tis Despair can save where valor fails to win. Then Ertoghrul aroused him, touched to heart.

  "My children, mount, and out with cimeter! I know not who these are, nor whence they come; Nor need we care. 'Twas Allah led them here, And we will honor Him--and this our law; What though the weak may not be always right, We'll make it always right to help the weak. Deep take the stirrups now, and ride with me, _Allah-il-Allah!"_

  Thus spake Ertoghrul; And at the words, with flying reins, and all His eager tribe, four hundred sworded men, Headlong he rode against the winning host.

  II

  Beneath the captured flags, the spoils in heaps Around him laid, the rescued warrior stood, A man of kingly mien, while to him strode His unexpected friend.

  "Now who art thou?" The first wa
s first to ask.

  "Sheik Ertoghrul Am I."

  "The herds I see--who calls them his?"

  Laughed Ertoghrul, and showed his cimeter. "The sword obeys my hand, the hand my will, And given will and hand and sword, I pray Thee tell me, why should any man be poor?"

  "And whose the plain?"

  "Comes this way one a friend Of mine, and leaves his slippers at my door, Why then, 'tis his." "And whose the hills that look Upon the plain?"

  "My flocks go there at morn, And thence they come at night--I take my right Of Allah."

  "No," the stranger mildly said, "'Twas Allah made them mine."

  Frowned Ertoghrul, While darkened all the air; but from his side Full pleasantly the stranger took a sword, Its carven hilt one royal emerald, Its blade both sides with legends overwrought, Some from the Koran, some from Solomon, All by the cunning Eastern maker burned Into the azure steel-his sword he took, And held it, belt, and scabbard too, in sign Of gift.

  "The herds, the plain, the hills were mine; But take thou them, and with them this in proof Of title."

  Lifted Ertoghrul his brows, And opened wide his eyes.

  "Now who art thou?" He asked in turn.

  "Oh, I am Alaeddin-- Sometimes they call me Alaeddin the Great."

  "I take thy gifts--the herds, the plain, the hills," Said Ertoghrul; "and so I take the sword; But none the less, if comes a need, 'tis thine. Let others call thee Alaeddin the Great; To me and mine thou'rt Alaeddin the Good And Great."

  With that, he kissed the good King's hand; And making merry, to the Sheik's dowar They rode. And thus from nothing came the small; And now the lonely vale which erst ye knew, And scorned, because it nursed the mountain's feet, Doth cradle mornings on the mountain's top.

  _Mishallah!_

  The quiet which held the company through the recitation endured a spaceafterwards, and--if the expression be allowed--was in itself acommentary upon the performance.

  "Where is our worthy Professor of Rhetoric?" asked Constantine.

  "Here, Your Majesty," answered the man of learning, rising.

  "Canst thou not give us a lecture upon the story with which thy Arabianbrother hath favored us?"

  "Nay, sire, criticism, to deal justly, waiteth until the blood is cool.If the Sheik will honor me with a copy of his lines, I will scan andmeasure them by the rules descended to us from Homer, and his Atticsuccessors."

  The eyes of the Emperor fell next upon the moody, discontented face ofDuke Notaras.

  "My lord Admiral, what sayest thou of the tale?"

  "Of the tale, nothing; of the story-teller--I think him an insolent,and had I my way, Your Majesty, he should have a plunge in theBosphorus."

  Presuming the Sheik unfamiliar with Latin, the Duke couched his replyin that tongue; yet the former raised his head, and looked at thespeaker, his eyes glittering with intelligence--and the day came, andsoon, when the utterance was relentlessly punished.

  "I do not agree with you, my Lord," Constantine said, in a melancholytone. "Our fathers, whether we look for them on the Roman or the Greekside, might have played the part of Ertoghrul. His was the spirit ofconquest. Would we had enough of it left to get back our own!--Sheik,"he added, "what else hast thou in the same strain? I have yet a littletime to spare--though it shall be as our hostess saith."

  "Nay," she answered, with deference, "there is but one will here."

  And taking assent from her, the Sheik began anew.

  EL JANN AND HIS PARABLE

  _Bismillah!_

  Ertoghrul pursued a wolf, And slew it on the range's tallest peak, Above the plain so high there was nor grass Nor even mosses more. And there he sat Him down awhile to rest; when from the sky, Or the blue ambiency cold and pure, Or maybe from the caverns of the earth Where Solomon the King is wont to keep The monster Genii hearkening his call, El Jann, vast as a cloud, and thrice as black, Appeared and spoke--

  "Art thou Sheik Ertoghrul?"

  And he undaunted answered: "Even so."

  "Well, I would like to come and sit with thee."

  "Thou seest there is not room for both of us."

  "Then rise, I say, and get thee part way down The peak."

  "'Twere easier," laughed Ertoghrul, "Madest thou thyself like me as thin and small; And I am tired."

  A rushing sound ran round and up And down the height, most like the whir of wings Through tangled trees of forests old and dim. A moment thus--the time a crisped leaf, Held, armlength overhead, will take to fall-- And then a man was sitting face to face With Ertoghrul.

  "This is the realm of snow," He said, and smiled--"a place from men secure, Where only eagles fearless come to nest, And summer with their young."

  The Sheik replied, "It was a wolf--a gaunt gray wolf, which long Had fattened on my flocks--that lured me here. I killed it."

  "On thy spear I see no blood; And where, O Sheik, the carcass of the slain? I see it not."

  Around looked Ertoghrul-- There was no wolf; and at his spear-- Upon its blade no blood. Then rose his wrath, A mighty pulse.

  "The spear hath failed its trust-- I'll try the cimeter."

  A gleam of light-- A flitting, wind-borne spark in murk of night-- Then fell the sword, the gift of Alaeddin; Edge-first it smote the man upon his crown-- Between his eyes it shore, nor staying there, It cut his smile in two--and not yet spent, But rather gaining force, through chin and chine, And to the very stone on which he sat It clove, and finished with a bell-like clang Of silvern steel 'gainst steel.

  "Aha! Aha!"-- But brief the shout; for lo! there was no stain Upon the blade withdrawn, nor moved the man, Nor changed he look or smile.

  "I was the wolf That ran before thee up the mountain side; 'Twas I received thy spear as now thy sword; And know thou further, Sheik, nor wolf nor man Am I, nor mortal thing of any kind; Only a thought of Allah's. Canst thou kill A thought divine? Not Solomon himself Could that, except with thought yet more divine. Yield thee thy rage; and when thou think'st of me Hereafter, be it as of one, a friend, Who brought a parable, and made display Before thee, saying-- "Lo! what Allah wills."

  Therewith he dropped a seed scarce visible Into a little heap of sand and loam Between them drawn.

  "Lo! Allah wills."

  And straight The dust began to stir as holding life. Again El Jann--

  "Behold what Allah wills!"

  A tiny shoot appeared; a waxen point Close shawled in many folds of wax as white, It might have been a vine to humbly creep-- A lily soon to sunward flare its stars-- A shrub to briefly coquette with the winds. Again the cabalism--

  "Lo! Allah's will."

  The apparition budded, leafed, and branched, And with a flame of living green lit all The barrenness about. And still it grew-- Until it touched the pillars of the earth, And lapped its boundaries, the far and near, And under it, as brethren in a tent, The nations made their home, and dwelt in peace Forever.

  "Lo!"--

  And Ertoghrul awoke.

  _Mishallah!_

  This recitation commanded closer attention than the first one. Eachlistener had a feeling that the parable at the end, like all trueparables, was of continuous application, while its moral was in someway aimed at him.

  The looks the Sheik rece
ived were by no means loving. The spell wasbecoming unpleasant. Then the Emperor arose, as did the Princess, towhom, as hostess, the privilege of sitting had been alone conceded.

  "Our playtime is up--indeed, I fear, it has been exceeded," he said,glancing at the Dean, who was acting master of ceremonies.

  The Dean responded with a bow low as his surroundings admitted;whereupon the Emperor went to the Princess, and said, "We will takeleave now, daughter, and for myself and my lords of the court, Iacknowledge a most agreeable visit, and thank you for it."

  She respectfully saluted the hand he extended to her.

  "Our gate and doors at Blacherne are always open to you."

  The adieu was specially observed by the courtiers, and theysubsequently pronounced it decorous for a sovereign, cordial as becamea relative, but most un-loverlike. Indeed, it was a strong point in thedecision subsequently of general acceptance, by which His Majesty wasrelieved of the proposal of marriage to the Princess.

  The latter took his offered arm, and accompanied him to the steps ofthe portico, where, when he had descended, the lords one by one left akiss on her hand.

  Nor should it be forgotten, that as Constantine was passing the Sheik,he paused to say to him in his habitually kind and princely manner:"The tree Sheik Ertoghrul saw in his dream has spread, and is yetspreading, but its shadow has not compassed all the nations; and whileGod keeps me, it will not. Had not I myself invited the parable, itmight have been offensive. For the instruction and entertainment givenme, accept thou this--and go in peace."

  The Sheik took the ring offered him, and the gaze with which hefollowed the imperial giver was suggestive of respect and pity.