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

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER V

  A PLAGUE OF CRIME

  Sergius' life in Constantinople had been almost void of incident. Hisintroduction to the Patriarch by the Princess Irene started him wellwith that reverend official, whose confidence and love she commanded toa singular degree. His personal qualities, however, were very helpful.The gentleness of his nature, his youth, his simplicity,respectfulness, intelligence and obvious piety were all in his favor;at the same time the strongest attraction he possessed with thestrangers amongst whom he found himself was his likeness according tothe received Byzantine ideal to Christ. He had a habit, moreover, ofwalking slowly, and with a quiet tread, his head lowered, his handsclasped before him. Coming in this mood suddenly upon persons, he oftenstartled them; at such times, indeed, the disturbed parties wereconstrained to both observe and forgive him--he reminded them sostrikingly of the Nazarene as He must have looked while in solitarywalks by the sea or along the highways of Galilee. Whatever the cause,it is very certain His Serenity, the Patriarch, from mere attention tothe young Russian, passed speedily to interest in him, and manifestedit in modes pleasant and noticeable. By his advice, Sergius attachedhimself to the Brotherhood of the Monastery of St. James of Manganese.This was the first incident in his city life out of the usual. Thesecond was his presentation at court, where he was not less successfulwith the Emperor than he had been with the Patriarch. Yet Sergius wasnot happy. His was the old case of a spirit willing, even anxious, todo, but held in restraint. He saw about him such strong need of savingaction; and the Christian plan, as he understood it, was so simple andefficacious. There was no difference in the value of souls. TakingChrist's own words, everything was from the Father, and He held thegates of Heaven open for the beggar and the emperor alike. Why notreturn to the plan devised, practised, and exemplified by the SaviourHimself? The idea bore heavily upon his mind, and accounted for thebent head and slow step fast becoming habitudes. At times the insurgentimpulses seemed beyond control. This was particularly when he walked incrowded places; for then the people appeared an audience summoned andready to hear him; he had only to go into their midst, call to them,and begin speaking; but often as he beheld the calm, patient, pleadingface of the Princess Irene, and heard her say ever so gently: "Wait,wait! I know the situation--you do not. Our object is the most good.God will send the opportunity. Then martyrdom, if it come, is going toHeaven. Wait--I will give you the signal. You are to speak for me aswell as yourself. You are to be my voice"--so often he grew reconciled.

  There was another trouble more difficult of comprehension anddescription. Under its influence the sky did not look so blue asformerly; the breeze was less refreshing; the sun where it scatteredits golden largesse over the sea failed to relieve it of dulness; andin all things, himself included, there was something wanting--exactlywhat he could not tell. However, as he had been indulging comparisonsof life in Constantinople with life in Bielo-Osero, and longing for theholy quiet of the latter, he concluded he was homesick, and wasashamed. It was childishness! The Great Example had no home! And withthat thought he struggled manfully to be a man forever done with suchweaknesses.

  It became his wont of afternoons when the weather was tolerable to seekthe city wall opposite the old Chalcedonian point. In going thither, hesometimes passed through the Hippodrome and Sta. Sophia, both in suchcontact to the collection of palaces known as the Bucoleon that eachmight have been fairly considered an appurtenance of the other. Theexercises in the spacious palaestrae had small interest for him; therewas always such evident rancor between the factions Blue and Green. Thedome of the great Church he regarded man's best effort at construction,beyond which there was nothing more attainable; but how it dwindled andfaded when from the wall he looked at the sky, the sea, and the land,the handiworks of God!

  On the wall, at a point marked by a shallow angle, there was a crackedstone bench, offering seawardly a view of the Isles of the Princes, andthe Asian domain beyond Broussa to the Olympian heights; westwardly,the Bucoleon and its terraced gardens were near by, and above them inthe distance the Tower of Isaac Angelus arose over Blacherne, like asentinel on guard against the opposing summits of Galata and Pera. Fromthe bench, the walk, besides being wide and smooth, extended, with aslight curvature northward to the Acropolis, now Point Serail, and onthe south to the Port of Julian. The airy promenade thus formed wasreached by several stairs intermediate the landmarks mentioned; yet themain ascent was near the Imperial stables, and it consisted of a flightof stone steps built against the inner face of the wall, like a broadbuttress. This latter was for the public, and of sunny days it was usedincessantly. Everybody in the category of invalids affected it inespecial, since litters and sedans were not inhibited there. In short,the popularity of this mural saunter can be easily imagined.

  The afternoon of the day the Prince of India was in audience by theEmperor's invitation, Sergius was the sole occupant of the stone bench.The hour was pleasant; the distant effects were perfect; birds andboats enlivened the air and water; and in listening to the swish ofwaves amongst the rocks and pebbles below, so like whisperings, heforgot where he was, and his impatience and melancholy, and the peoplestrolling negligently past. One of his arms lay along the edge of thebulwark before him, and he was not thinking so much as simply enjoyingexistence. To such as noticed him he appeared a man in the drowsy stagenext to sleep.

  Afterwhile a voice aroused him, and, without moving, he became aware oftwo men stopped and talking. He could not avoid hearing them.

  "She is coming," said one.

  "How do you know?" the other asked.

  "Have I not told you I keep a spy on the old Prince's house? Amessenger from him has just reported the chair arrived for her; andthis being her favorite stroll, she will be here presently."

  "Have you considered the risks of your project?"

  "Risks? Pah!"

  The exclamation was with a contemptuous laugh.

  "But they have grown since last night," the other persisted. "TheIndian is now at the Palace, His Majesty's guest."

  "Yes, I had report of that also; but I have studied the game, and ifyou fear to join me, I will see it through alone. As an offence againstlaw, it is abduction, not murder; and the penalty, imprisonment, can beeasily changed to banishment, which with me means at the utmost a shortabsence to give friends an opportunity to prepare for my return.Consider, moreover, the subject of the offence will be a woman. Can youname an instance in which the kidnapper of a woman has beenpunished?--I mean in our time?"

  "True, women are the cheapest commodity in the market; therefore"--

  "I understand," the first speaker interposed, a little impatiently,"but Princes of India are not common in Constantinople, while theirdaughters are less so. See the temptation! Besides, in the decadence ofour Byzantine empire, the criminal laws fail worse and worse ofexecution. Only last night my father, delivering a lecture, saidneglect in this respect was one of the reasons of the Empire's going.Only the poor and degraded suffer penalties now. And I--pah! What haveI to fear? Or thou? And from whom? When the girl's loss isdiscovered--you observe I am viewing the affair in its most malignantaspect--I know the course the Prince will take. He will run to thepalace; there he will fall at the Emperor's feet, tell his tale of woe,and"--

  "And if thou art denounced?"

  The conspirator laughed again. "The worse for the Prince," he at lengthreplied. "The Hegumen, my honored father, will follow him to thepalace, and--but let the details go! The relations between the Basileusand the Church are strained to breaking; and the condition is notsanable while the quarrel between the Patriarch and Scholarius waxeshotter."

  "The Patriarch and Scholarius quarrelling? I had not heard of that."

  "Openly, openly! His Majesty and the Patriarch are tenderlysympathetic. What more is wanting to set the Prophet scolding? ThePatriarch, it is now known, will not be at the _Pannychides_ to-night.His health began failing when, over his objection, it was decided tohold the Mystery, and last week he betook himself to
the Holy Mountain.This morning the Prophet"--

  "Thou meanest Scholarius?"

  "Scholarius denounced him as an _azymite_, which is bad, if true; asunfaithful to God and the Church, which is worse; and as trying toconvert the Emperor into an adherent of the Bishop of Rome, which,considering the Bishop is Satan unchained, will not admit of a furtherdescent in sin. The Mystery tonight is Scholarius' scheme incontravention of His Serenity's efforts. Oh, it is a quarrel, and a bigone, involving Church and State, and the infallibility of our newlyrisen Jeremiah. Thus full-handed, thinkest thou in a suit the Prince ofIndia against the venerable Hegumen of all the St. James', His Majestywill hesitate? Is thy opinion of him as a politician souncomplimentary? Think again, I say--think again!"

  "Thy father's Brotherhood are His Majesty's friends!"

  "Ah, the very point! They despise Scholarius now, and what an ado, whata political display, to drive them into his arms! The Princes of India,though they were numerous as the spectre caravan, could not carryinfluence that far."

  Here there was a rest in the conversation.

  "Well, since thou wilt not be persuaded to let the enterprise go," theprotesting friend next said, "at least agree with me that it isindiscreet to speak of it in a place public as this."

  The laugh of the conspirator was heartier than before.

  "Ah, hadst thou warned me not to speak of it to the"--

  "Enough of that! The Prince of India is nothing to me--thou art myfriend."

  "Agree with me then that thou hast ears, while the public"--

  "Have not, thou wouldst say. Still there are things which may not bewhispered in a desert without being overheard."

  "The Pagans who went before us had a god of wisdom, and they called himHermes. I should say thou hast been to school to him. 'Twas he,doubtless, who taught outlaws to seek safety in crowded cities. By thesame philosophy, where can one talk treason more securely than on thiswall? Afraid of discovery! Not I, unless thou mumblest in thy sleep. Wego about our good intents--the improvement of our fortune forinstance--with awful care, and step by step, fortifying. The practiceis applicable to wickedness. I am no bungler. I will tell thee atale.... Thou knowest the Brotherhood of the Monastery of St. James ofManganese is very ancient, and that the house in which it is quarteredis about as old as the Brotherhood. Their archives are the richest inthe empire. They have a special chamber and a librarian. Were he of themind, he might write a history of Constantinople by original datawithout leaving his library. Fortunately the mere keepers of booksseldom write books.... My father's office is in the Monastery, and Ifrequently find myself in his company there. He never fails to improvethe opportunity to lecture me, for he is a good man. One day, byinvitation, I accompanied the librarian to his place of keeping, andsaw it, and wondered how he could be willing to give his days--he isnow an old man--to such a mass of rot and smells. I spare you mentionof the many things he showed me; for there was but one of real ado withwhat we are considering, an old document illuminated with anuntarnished chrysobula. 'Here,' said he, 'is something curious.' Thetext was short--writers in those days knew the tricks of condensation,and they practised them virtuously. I asked him to give it to me--herefused--he would sooner have given me the last lock on his head, whichis a great deal, seeing that hair grows precious exactly as it growsscantier. So I made him hold the lamp while I read.... The document wasdated about A.D. 1300--a century and a half gone, and proved to be aformal report by the Patriarch to a council of Bishops and Hegumen....Thou knowest, I am sure, the great cistern; not the Philoxenus, but thelarger one, with an entrance west of Sta. Sophia, sometimes called theImperial, because built by the first Constantine and enlarged byJustinian."

  "I know it."

  "Well, there was a great ceremony there one day; the same with whichthe report was concerned. The clergy attended in force and panoply ledby His Serenity in person--monks, nuns, deacons and deaconesses--in aword, the Church was present. The cistern had been profaned. A son ofSatan, moved by a most diabolical ingenuity, had converted it into aden of wickedness surpassing sinful belief; and the procession andawful conclave were to assist His Serenity in restoring the water towholesomeness, impossible, in the belief of consumers, except by solemnexorcism.... Heed now, my friend--I am about to tap the heart of mystory. A plague struck the city--a plague of crime. A womandisappeared. There was search for her, but without success. The affairwould have been dismissed within the three days usually allottedwonders of the kind, had not another like it occurred--and thenanother. The victims, it was noticed, were young and beautiful, and asthe last one was of noble family the sensation was universal. The wholecapital organized for rescue. While the hunt was at its height, afourth unfortunate went the way of the others. Sympathy and curiosityhad been succeeded by anxiety; now the public was aroused to anger, andthe parents of handsome girls were sore with fear. Schemes fordiscovery multiplied; ingenuity was exhausted; the government took partin the chase--all in vain. And there being then a remission in thedisappearance, the theory of suicide was generally accepted. Quiet andconfidence were returning, when, lo! the plague broke out afresh! Fivetimes in five weeks Sta. Sophia was given to funeral services. The uglywomen, and the halt, and those long hopeless of husbands shared thecommon terror. The theory of suicide was discarded. It was the doing ofthe Turks, everybody said. The Turks were systematically foragingConstantinople to supply their harems with Christian beauty; or if theTurks were innocent, the devil was the guilty party. On the latterpresumption, the Church authorities invented a prayer of specialapplication. Could anything better signify the despair of thecommunity? A year passed--two years--three--and though every oneresolved himself into a watchman and hunter; though heralds criedrewards in the Emperor's name three times each day on the streetcorners, and in every place of common resort; though the fame of thehavoc, rapine, spoliation, or whatsoever it may please thee to call thevisitation, was carried abroad until everybody here and there knewevery particular come to light concerning it, with the pursuit, and thedragging and fishing in the sea, never a clew was found.One--two--three years, during which at intervals, some long, someshort, the ancient Christian centre kept on sealing its doors, andpraying. Finally the disappearances were about to be accepted asincidents liable to happen at any time to any young and pretty woman.They were placed in the category with death. There was mourning byfriends--that was about all. How much longer the mystery would havecontinued may not be said.... Now accidents may not have brought theworld about, yet the world could not get along without accidents. Toillustrate. A woman one day, wanting water for her household, let abucket down one of the wells of the cistern, and drew up a sandalslippery and decaying. A sliver buckle adhered to it. Upon inspectingthe prize, a name was observed graven on its underside. The curiouscame to see--there was discussion--at length an examiner blessed with agood memory coupled the inscription with one of the lost women. It wasindeed her name! A clew to the great mystery was at last obtained. Thecity was thrown into tumult, and an exploration of the cisterndemanded. The authorities at first laughed. 'What!' they said. 'TheRoyal reservoir turned into a den of murder and crime unutterable byChristians!' But they yielded. A boat was launched on the darkenedwaters--But hold!"

  The voice of the speaker changed. Something was occurring to stop thestory. Sergius had succumbed to interest in it; he was listening withexcited sense, yet kept his semblance of sleep.

  "Hold!" the narrator repeated, in an emphatic undertone. "See whatthere is in knowing to choose faithful allies! My watchman was right.She comes--she is here!"

  "Who is here?"

  "She--the daughter of the old Indian. In the sedan to my left--look!"

  Sergius, catching the reply, longed to take the direction to himself,and look, for he was comprehending vaguely. A blindfolded man canunderstand quite well, if he is first informed of the business inprogress, or if it be something with which he is familiar; imaginationseems then to take the place of eyes. A detective, having overheard theconversation between t
he two men, had not required sight of them; butthe young monk was too recently from the cloisters of Bielo-Osero to bequick in the discernment of villanies. He knew the world abounded incrime, but he had never dealt with it personally; as yet it was adestroying wolf howling in the distance. He yearned to see if what hedimly surmised were true--if the object at the moment so attractive tohis dangerous neighbors were indeed the daughter of the strange Indianhe had met at the White Castle. His recollection of her was wonderfullydistinct. Her face and demeanor when he assisted her from the boat hadoften reverted to his thought. They spoke to him so plainly ofsimplicity and dependence, and she seemed so pure and beautiful! Andmaking the acknowledgment to himself, his heart took to beating quickand drum-like. He heard the shuffle and slide of the chairmen going;when they ceased a new and strange feeling came and possessed itself ofhis spirit, and led it out after her. Still he managed to keep his headupon his arm.

  "By the saintly patron of thy father's Brotherhood, she is more thanlovely! I am almost persuaded."

  "Ah, I am not so mad as I was!" the conspirator replied, laughing; thenhe changed to seriousness, and added, like one speaking betweenclinched teeth--"I am resolved to go on. I will have her--come whatmay, I will have her! I am neither a coward nor a bungler. Thou mayststay behind, but I have gone too far to retreat. Let us follow, and seeher again--my pretty Princess!"

  "Stay--a moment."

  Perception was breaking in on Sergius. He scarcely breathed.

  "Well?" was the answer.

  "You were saying that a boat was launched in the cistern. Then what?"

  "Of discovery? Oh, yes--the very point of my argument! A raft was foundmoored between four of the great pillars in the cistern, and there wasa structure on it with furnished rooms. A small boat was used for goingand coming."

  "Wonderful!"

  "Come--or we will lose the sight of her."

  "But what else?"

  "Hooks, such as fishermen use in hunting lobsters were brought, and bydragging and fishing the missing women were brought to light--that is,their bones were brought to light. More I will tell as we go. I willnot stay longer."

  Sergius heard them depart, and presently he raised his head. His bloodwas cold with horror. He was having the awful revelation which sooneror later bursts upon every man who pursues a walk far in life.