In the Track of the Troops

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER TEN.

  INVOLVES LANCEY IN GREAT PERPLEXITIES, WHICH CULMINATE IN A VASTSURPRISE.

  No sooner did the dark and unpretending door of Sanda Pasha's konak orpalace open than Lancey's eyes were dazzled by the blaze of light andsplendour within, and when he had entered, accustomed though he was to"good society" in England, he was struck dumb with astonishment.Perhaps the powerful contrast between the outside and the interior ofthis Eastern abode had something to do with the influence on his mind.

  Unbridled luxury met his eyes in whatever direction he turned. Therewas a double staircase of marble; a court paved with mosaic-work ofbrilliant little stones; splendid rooms, the walls of which were coveredwith velvet paper of rich pattern and colour. Gilding glitteredeverywhere--on cornices, furniture, and ceilings, from which the eyesturned with double zest to the soft light of marble sculpturejudiciously disposed on staircase and in chambers. There were softsofas that appeared to embrace you as you sank into them; pictures thatcharmed the senses; here a bath of snow-white marble, there gushingfountains and jets of limpid water that appeared to play hide-and-seekamong green leaves and lovely flowers, and disappeared mysteriously,--inshort, everything tasteful and beautiful that man could desire. Ofcourse Lancey did not take all this in at once. Neither did he realisethe fact that the numerous soft-moving and picturesque attendants, blackand white, whom he saw, were a mere portion of an army of servants,numbering upwards of a thousand souls, whom this Pasha retained. Thesedid not include the members of his harem. He had upwards of a hundredcooks and two hundred grooms and coachmen. This household, it is said,consumed, among other things, nearly 7000 pounds of vegetables a day,and in winter there were 900 fires kindled throughout the establishment.[See note 1.]

  But of all this, and a great deal more, Lancey had but a faintglimmering as he was led through the various corridors and rooms towardsa central part of the building.

  Here he was shown into a small but comfortable apartment, very Easternin its character, with a mother-of-pearl table in one corner bearingsome slight refreshment, and a low couch at the further end.

  "Eat," said the black slave who conducted him. He spoke in English, andpointed to the table; "an' sleep," he added, pointing to the couch."Sanda Pasha sees you de morrow."

  With that he left Lancey staring in a bewildered manner at the doorthrough which he had passed.

  "Sanda Pasha," repeated the puzzled man slowly, "will see me `demorrow,' will he? Well, if `de morrow' ever comes, w'ich I doubt, SandaPasha will find 'e 'as made a most hegragious mistake of some sort.'Owever that's _'is_ business, not mine."

  Having comforted himself with this final reflection on the culminatingevent of the day, he sat down to the mother-of-pearl table and did fulljustice to the Pasha's hospitality by consuming the greater part of theviands thereon, consisting largely of fruits, and drinking the wine withcritical satisfaction.

  Next morning he was awakened by his black friend of the previous night,who spread on the mother-of-pearl table a breakfast which in itselegance appeared to be light, but which on close examination turnedout, like many light things in this world, to be sufficientlysubstantial for an ordinary man.

  Lancey now expected to be introduced to the Pasha, but he was mistaken.No one came near him again till the afternoon, when the black slavereappeared with a substantial dinner. The Pasha was busy, he said, andwould see him in the evening. The time might have hung heavily on thepoor man's hands, but, close to the apartment in which he was confinedthere was a small marble court, open to the sky, in which wererichly-scented flowers and rare plants and fountains which leaped ortrickled into tanks filled with gold-fish. In the midst of these thingshe sat or sauntered dreamily until the shades of evening fell. Then theblack slave returned and beckoned him to follow.

  He did so and was ushered into a delicious little boudoir, whosewindows, not larger than a foot square, were filled with pink, blue, andyellow glass. Here, the door being softly shut behind him, Lancey foundhimself in the presence of the red-bearded officer whom he had met onboard the Turkish monitor.

  Redbeard, as Lancey called him, mentally, reclined on a couch and smokeda chibouk.

  "Come here," he said gravely, in broken English. Lancey advanced intothe middle of the apartment. "It vas you what blew'd up de monitor," hesaid sternly, sending a thick cloud of smoke from his lips.

  "No, your--." Lancey paused. He knew not how to address hisquestioner, but, feeling that some term of respect was necessary, hecoined a word for the occasion--

  "No, your Pashaship, I did nothink of the sort. I'm as hinnocent ofthat ewent as a new-born babe."

  "Vat is your name?"

  "Lancey."

  "Ha! your oder name."

  "Jacob."

  "Ho! _My_ name is Sanda Pasha. You have hear of me before?"

  "Yes, on board the Turkish monitor."

  "Just so; but before zat, I mean," said the Pasha, with a keen glance.

  Lancey was a bold and an honest man. He would not condescend toprevaricate.

  "I'm wery sorry, your--your Pashaship, but, to tell the plain truth, Inever _did_ 'ear of you _before_ that."

  "Well, zat matters not'ing. I do go now to sup vid von friend, HamedPasha he is called. You go vid me. Go, get ready."

  Poor Lancey opened his eyes in amazement, and began to stammer somethingabout having nothing to get ready with, and a mistake being made, butthe Pasha cut him short with another "Go!" so imperative that he wasfain to obey promptly.

  Having no change of raiment, the perplexed man did his best by washinghis face and hands, and giving his hair and clothes an extra brush, tomake himself more fit for refined society. On being called to rejointhe Pasha, he began to apologise for the style of his dress, but theperemptory despot cut him short by leading the way to his carriage, inwhich they were driven to the konak or palace of Hamed Pasha.

  They were shown into a richly-furnished apartment where Hamed was seatedon a divan, with several friends, smoking and sipping brandy and water,for many of these _eminent_ followers of the Prophet pay about as littleregard to the Prophet's rules as they do to the laws of Europeansociety.

  Hamed rose to receive his brother Pasha, and Lancey was amazed to findthat he was a Nubian, with thick lips, flat nose, and a visage as blackas coal. He was also of gigantic frame, insomuch that he dwarfed therest of the company, including Lancey himself.

  Hamed had raised himself from a low rank in society to his present highposition by dint of military ability, great physical strength, superiorintelligence, reckless courage, and overflowing animal spirits. WhenSanda Pasha entered he was rolling his huge muscular frame on the divan,and almost weeping with laughter at something that had been whispered inhis ear by a dervish who sat beside him.

  Sanda introduced Lancey as an Englishman, on hearing which the blackPasha seized and wrung his hands, amid roars of delight, and torrents ofremarks in Turkish, while he slapped him heartily on the shoulder.Then, to the amazement of Lancey, he seized him by the collar of hiscoat, unbuttoned it, and began to pull it off. This act was speedilyexplained by the entrance of an attendant with a pale blue loosedressing-gown lined with fur, which the Pasha made his English guest puton, and sit down beside him.

  Having now thoroughly resigned himself to the guidance of what hisTurkish friends styled "fate," Lancey did his best to make himselfagreeable, and gave himself up to the enjoyment of the hour.

  There were present in the room, besides those already mentioned, aTurkish colonel of cavalry and a German doctor who spoke Turkishfluently. The party sat down to supper on cushions round a very lowtable. The dervish, Hadji Abderhaman, turned out to be a gourmand, aswell as a witty fellow and a buffoon. The Pasha always gave the signalto begin to each dish, and between courses the dervish told stories fromthe Arabian Nights' Entertainments, or uttered witticisms which kept theNubian Pasha in roars of laughter. They were all very merry, for thehost was fond of boisterous fun and practical jokes, while h
is guestswere sympathetic. Lancey laughed as much as any of them, for althoughhe could not, despite his previous studies, follow the conversation, hecould understand the pantomime, and appreciated the viands highly. Hisred-bearded friend also came to his aid now and then with a fewexplanatory remarks in broken English.

  At such times the host sat with a beaming smile on his black face, andhis huge mouth half-expanded, looking from one to another, as ifattempting to understand, and ready at a moment's notice to explode inlaughter, or admiration, or enthusiasm, according to circumstances.

  "Hamed Pasha wants to know if you is in do army," said Sanda Pasha.

  "Not in the regulars," replied Lancey, "but I _'ave_ bin, in themilitia."

  The Nubian gave another roar of delight when this was translated, andextended his great hand to one whom he thenceforth regarded as abrother-in-arms. Lancey grasped and shook it warmly.

  "Let the Englishman see your sword," said Sanda in Turkish to Hamed.

  Sanda knew his friend's weak point. The sword was at once ordered infor inspection.

  Truly it was a formidable weapon, which might have suited the fist ofGoliath, and was well fitted for the brawny arm that had waved it aloftmany a time in the smoke and din of battle. It was blunt and hacked onboth edges with frequent use, but its owner would not have it sharpenedon any account, asserting that a stout arm did not require a keenweapon.

  While the attention of the company was taken up with this instrument ofdeath, the dervish availed himself of the opportunity to secure theremains of a dish of rich cream, to which he had already applied himselfmore than once.

  The Nubian observed the sly and somewhat greedy act with a twinklingeye. When the dervish had drained the dish, the host filled a glassfull to the brim with vinegar, and, with fierce joviality, bade himdrink it. The poor man hesitated, and said something about wine and amistake, but the Pasha repeated "Drink!" with such a roar, and threw hissword down at the same time with such a clang on the marble floor, thatthe dervish swallowed the draught with almost choking celerity.

  The result was immediately obvious on his visage; nevertheless he boreup bravely, and even cut a sorry joke at his own expense, while theblack giant rolled on his divan, and the tears ran down his swarthycheeks.

  The dervish was an adventurer who had wandered about the country as anidle vagabond until the war broke out, when he took to army-contractingwith considerable success. It was in his capacity of contractor that hebecame acquainted with the boisterous black Pasha, who greatlyappreciated his low but ready wit, and delighted in tormenting him. Ondiscovering that the dervish was a voracious eater, he pressed--I mightsay forced--him with savage hospitality to eat largely of every dish, sothat, when pipes were brought after supper, the poor dervish was morethan satisfied.

  "Now, you are in a fit condition to sing," cried Hamed, slapping theover-fed man on the shoulder; "come, give us a song: the Englishmanwould like to hear one of your Arabian melodies."

  Redbeard translated this to Lancey, who protested that, "nothink wouldafford 'im greater delight."

  The dervish was not easily overcome. Despite his condition, he sang,well and heartily, a ditty in Arabic, about love and war, which theNubian Pasha translated into Turkish for the benefit of the Germandoctor, and Sanda Pasha rendered into broken English for Lancey.

  But the great event of the evening came, when the English guest, inobedience to a call, if not a command, from his host, sang an Englishballad. Lancey had a sweet and tuneful voice, and was prone to indulgein slow pathetic melodies. The black Pasha turned out to be intenselyfond of music, and its effect on his emotional spirit was very powerful.At the first bar of his guest's flowing melody his boisterous humourvanished: his mouth and eyes partly opened with a look of pleasedsurprise; he evidently forgot himself and his company, and when,although unintelligible to him, the song proceeded in more touchingstrains, his capacious chest began to heave and his eyes filled withtears. The applause, not only of the host, but the company, was loudand emphatic, and Lancey was constrained to sing again. After that thecolonel sang a Turkish war-song. The colonel's voice was a tremendousbass, and he sang with such enthusiasm that the hearers were effectivelystirred. Hamed, in particular, became wild with excitement. Hehalf-suited his motions, while beating time, to the action of eachverse, and when, as a climax in the last verse, the colonel gave theorder to "charge!" Hamed uttered a roar, sprang up, seized his greatsabre, and caused it to whistle over his friends with a sweep that mighthave severed the head of an elephant!

  At this point, one of the attendants, who appeared to be newly appointedto his duties, and who had, more than once during the feast, attractedattention by his stupidity, shrank in some alarm from the side of hiswild master and tumbled over a cushion.

  Hamed glared at him for a moment, with a frown that was obviously notput on, and half-raised the sabre as if about to cut him down.Instantly the frown changed to a look of contempt, and almost as quicklywas replaced by a gleam of fun.

  "Stand forth," said Hamed, dropping the sabre and sitting down.

  The man obeyed with prompt anxiety.

  "Your name?"

  "Mustapha."

  "Mustapha," repeated the Pasha, "I observe that you are a capable youngfellow. You are a man of weight, as the marble floor can testify. Iappoint you to the office of head steward. Go, stand up by the door."

  The man made a low obeisance and went.

  "Let the household servants and slaves pass before their new superiorand do him honour."

  With promptitude, and with a gravity that was intensely ludicrous--fornone dared to smile in the presence of Hamed Pasha--the servants of theestablishment, having been summoned, filed before the new steward andbowed to him. This ceremony over, Mustapha was ordered to go and make alist of the poultry. The poor man was here obliged to confess that hecould not write.

  "You can draw?" demanded the Pasha fiercely.

  With some hesitation the steward admitted that he could--"a little."

  "Go then, draw the poultry, every cock and hen and chicken," said thePasha, with a wave of his hand which dismissed the household servantsand sent the luckless steward to his task.

  After this pipes were refilled, fresh stories were told, and more songswere sung. After a considerable time Mustapha returned with a largesheet of paper covered with hieroglyphics. The man looked timid as heapproached and presented it to his master.

  The Pasha seized the sheet. "What have we here?" he demanded sternly.

  The man said it was portraits of the cocks and hens.

  "Ha!" exclaimed the Pasha, "a portrait-gallery of poultry--eh!"

  He held the sheet at arm's-length, and regarded it with a fierce frown;but his lips twitched, and suddenly relaxed into a broad grin, causing atremendous display of white teeth and red gums.

  "Poultry! ha! just so. What is this?"

  He pointed to an object with a curling tail, which Mustapha assured himwas a cock.

  "What! a cock? where is the comb? Who ever heard of a cock without acomb, eh? And that, what is that?"

  Mustapha ventured to assert that it was a chicken.

  "A chicken," cried the Pasha fiercely; "more like a dromedary. Yourascal! did you not say that you could draw? Go! deceiver, you aredeposed. Have him out and set him to cleanse the hen-house, and woebetide you if it is not as clean as your own conscience before to-morrowmorning--away!"

  The Pasha shouted the last word, and then fell back in fits of laughter;while the terrified man fled to the hen-house, and drove its occupantsfrantic in his wild attempts to cleanse their Augean stable.

  It was not until midnight that Sanda Pasha and Lancey, taking leave ofHamed and his guests, returned home.

  "Come, follow me," said the Pasha, on entering the palace.

  He led Lancey to the room in which they had first met, and, seatinghimself on a divan, lighted his chibouk.

  "Sit down," he said, pointing to a cushion that lay near him on themarble flo
or.

  Lancey, although unaccustomed to such a low seat, obeyed.

  "Smoke," said the Pasha, handing a cigarette to his guest.

  Lancey took the cigarette, but at this point his honest soul recoiledfrom the part he seemed to be playing. He rose, and, laying thecigarette respectfully on the ground, said--

  "Sanda Pasha, it's not for the likes o' me to be sittin' 'ere smokin'with the likes o' you, sir. There's some mistake 'ere, hobviously.I've been treated with the consideration doo to a prince since I fellinto the 'ands of the Turks, and it is right that I should at oncecorrect this mistake, w'ich I'd 'ave done long ago if I could 'ave gotthe Turks who've 'ad charge of me to understand Hinglish. I'm bound totell you, sir, that I'm on'y a groom in a Hinglish family, and makes nopretence to be hanythink else, though circumstances 'as putt me in afalse position since I come 'ere. I 'ope your Pashaship won't think meungracious, sir, but I can't a-bear to sail under false colours."

  To this speech Sanda Pasha listened with profound gravity, and puffed anenormous cloud from his lips at its conclusion.

  "Sit down," he said sternly.

  Lancey obeyed.

  "Light your cigarette."

  There was a tone of authority in the Pasha's voice which Lancey did notdare to resist. He lighted the cigarette.

  "Look me in the _face_," said the Pasha suddenly, turning his piercinggrey eyes full on him guest.

  Supposing that this was a prelude to an expression of doubt as to hishonesty, Lancey did look the Pasha full in the face, and returned hisstare with interest.

  "Do you see this cut over the bridge of my nose?" demanded the Pasha.

  Lancey saw it, and admitted that it must have been a bad one.

  "And do you see the light that is blazing in these two eyes?" he added,pointing to his own glowing orbs with a touch of excitement.

  Lancey admitted that he saw the light, and began to suspect that thePasha was mad. At the same time he was struck by the sudden and verygreat improvement in his friend's English.

  "But for _you_," continued the Pasha, partly raising himself, "that cuthad never been, and the light of those eyes would now be quenched indeath!"

  The Pasha looked at his guest more fixedly than ever, and Lancey, nowfeeling convinced of his entertainer's madness, began to think uneasilyof the best way to humour him.

  "Twenty years ago," continued the Pasha slowly and with a touch ofpathos in his tone, "I received this cut from a boy in a fight atschool," (Lancey thought that the boy must have been a bold fellow),"and only the other day I was rescued by a man from the waters of theDanube." (Lancey thought that, on the whole, it would have been well ifthe man had left him to drown.) "The name of the boy and the name of theman was the same. It was Jacob Lancey!"

  Lancey's eyes opened and his lower jaw dropped. He sat on his cushionaghast.

  "Jacob Lancey," continued the Pasha in a familiar tone that sent athrill to the heart of his visitor, "hae ye forgotten your auld Scotchfreen' and school-mate Sandy? In Sanda Pasha you behold Sandy Black!"

  Lancey sprang to his knees--the low couch rendering that attitudenatural--grasped the Pasha's extended hand, and gazed wistfully into hiseyes.

  "Oh Sandy, Sandy!" he said, in a voice of forced calmness, while heshook his head reproachfully, "many and many a time 'ave I prophesiedthat you would become a great man, but little did I think that you'dcome to this--a May'omedan and a Turk."

  Unable to say more, Lancey sat down on his cushion, clasped his handsover his knees, and gazed fixedly at his old friend and former idol.

  "Lancey, my boy--it is quite refreshing to use these old familiar wordsagain,--I am no more a Mohammedan than you are."

  "Then you're a 'ypocrite," replied the other promptly.

  "By no means,--at least I hope not," said the Pasha, with a smile and aslightly troubled look. "Surely there is a wide space between athoroughly honest man and an out-and-out hypocrite. I came here with noreligion at all. They took me by the hand and treated me kindly.Knowing nothing, I took to anything they chose to teach me. What coulda youth do? Now I am what I am, and I cannot change it."

  Lancey knew not what to reply to this. Laying his hand on the richsleeve of the Pasha he began in the old tone and in the fulness of hisheart.

  "Sandy, my old friend, as I used to all but worship, nominal May'omedanthough you be, it's right glad I am to--" words failed him here.

  "Well, well," said the Pasha, smiling, and drawing a great cloud fromhis chibouk, "I'm as glad as yourself, and not the less so that I'vebeen able to do you some small service in the way of preventing yourneck from being stretched; and that brings me to the chief point forwhich I have brought you to my palace, namely, to talk about matterswhich concern yourself, for it is obvious that you cannot remain in thiscountry in time of war with safety unless you have some fixed position.Tell me, now, where you have been and what doing since we last met inScotland, and I will tell you what can be done for you in Turkey."

  Hereupon Lancey began a long-winded and particular account of his lifeduring the last twenty years. The Pasha smoked and listened with graveinterest. When the recital was finished he rose.

  "Now, Lancey," said he, "it is time that you and I were asleep. In themorning I have business to attend to. When it is done we will continueour talk. Meanwhile let me say that I see many little ways in which youcan serve the Turks, if you are so minded."

  "Sandy Black," said Lancey, rising with a look of dignity, "you are verykind--just what I would 'ave expected of you--but you must clearlyunderstand that I will serve only in works of 'umanity. In a milingtarycapacity I will serve neither the Turks nor the Roossians."

  "Quite right, my old friend, I will not ask military service of you, sogood-night. By the way, it may be as well to remind you that, exceptbetween ourselves, I am not Sandy Black but Sanda Pasha,--youunderstand?"

  With an arch smile the Pasha laid down his chibouk and left the room,and the black attendant conducted Lancey to his bedroom. The sameattendant took him, the following morning after breakfast, to thePasha's "Selamlik" or "Place of Salutations," in order that he might seehow business matters were transacted in Turkey.

  The Selamlik was a large handsome room filled with men, both with andwithout turbans, who had come either to solicit a favour or a post, orto press on some private business. On the entrance of the Pasha everyone rose. When he was seated, there began a curious scene of bowing tothe ground and touching, by each person present, of the mouth and headwith the hand. This lasted full five minutes.

  Sanda Pasha then received a number of business papers from an officer ofthe household, to which he applied himself with great apparentearnestness, paying no attention whatever to his visitors. Lanceyobserved, however, that his absorbed condition did not prevent a few ofthese visitors, apparently of superior rank, from approaching andwhispering in his ear. To some of them he was gracious, to others cool,as they severally stated the nature of their business. No one elsedared to approach until the reading of the papers was finished.Suddenly the Pasha appeared to get weary of his papers. He tossed themaside, ordered his carriage, rose hastily, and left the room. But thisuncourteous behaviour did not appear to disconcert those who awaited hispleasure. Probably, like eels, they had got used to rough treatment.Some of them ran after the Pasha and tried to urge their suits in a fewrapid sentences, others went off with a sigh or a growl, resolving torepeat the visit another day, while Sanda himself was whirled along atfull speed to the Sublime Porte, to hold council with the Ministers ofState on the arrangements for the war that had by that time begun torage along the whole line of the Lower Danube--the Russians havingeffected a crossing in several places.

  After enjoying himself for several days in the palace of his oldschool-mate, my worthy servant, being resolved not to quit the countryuntil he had done his utmost to discover whether I was alive or drowned,accepted the offer of a situation as cook to one of the TurkishAmbulance Corps. Having received a suitable change of g
arments, with aprivate pass, and recommendations from the Pasha, he was despatched witha large body of recruits and supplies to the front.

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  Note 1. A similar establishment to this was, not long ago, described bythe "correspondent" of a well-known Journal.