The Circassian Slave - Maturin Murray Ballou (good books to read for young adults .TXT) 📗

are only truthful when they speak the language of the heart," replied she.

"You forget my forbearance."

"I forget nothing, but remember constantly too much," she replied.

"It may be, Komel, that you do not remember on thing, which it is necessary to recall to you mind. You are my slave!"

Leaving the Sultan and his household, we will turn once more to Capt. Selim, and see with what success he treated his fair patient, the old Bey's daughter, in his assumed character of a Jewish leech.


CHAPTER XI.


THE ELOPEMENT.

The palace of the old Bey, Zillah's father, was one of those gilded, pagoda-like buildings, which, in any other climate or any other spot in the wide world, would have looked foolish, from its profusion of latticed external ornaments, and the filagree work that covered every angle and point, more after the fashion of a child's toy than the work most appropriate for a dwelling house. But here, on the banks of the Bosphorus, in sight of Constantinople, and within the dominion of that oriental people, it was appropriate in every belonging, and seemed just what a Turkish palace should be.

The building extended so over the water that its owner could drop at once into his caique and be pulled to almost any part of the city, and, like all the people who live along the river's banks, he was much on its surface. Coiled away, a la Turk, with his pipe well supplied, a pull either to the Black Sea, or that of Marmora, with a dozen stout oarsmen, was a delightful way of passing an afternoon, returning as the twilight hour settled over the scene.

It was perhaps a week subsequent to the time when Selim and Zillah met at the Bey's house, availing himself of the liberty so fully extended by her father, Selim, in his disguise as a Jew, again appeared at the palace gate, where he was received with a request and consideration that showed to him he was expected, and at his request he was conducted to the Bey's presence, and by him, again to the apartment where his daughter was reposing.--The pretended Jew followed his guide with the most profound sobriety, handling sundry vials and jars he had brought with him, and upon which the Bey looked with not a little interest and respect, as he strove to decipher the cabalistic lines on each.

"Have you found any improvement in the malady that affects your child?" asked the Jew, pouring a part of the contents of one vial into another, and holding it up against the light, exhibiting a phosphorescent action in the vial.

"By the beard of the prophet, yes; a marked and potent change has your wonderful medicines produced. But what use do you make of that strange compound that looks like liquid fire?"

"'Tis a strange compound," answered the other, seeming to regard the mixture with profound interest; "very strange. Perhaps you would hardly believe it, but the contents of that vial cast into the Bosphorus, would kill every fish below your latticed windows to the Dardanelles."

"Allah Akbar!" exclaimed the credulous Turk, holding up both hands. "And this medicine, so powerful, do you intend for one so delicate as she?" he asked, pointing to Zillah, who was reclining upon a pile of cushions.

"I do; but with that judicious, care that forms the art of our profession. So peculiar is the means that I shall operate with to-night, that should it harm her, it would equally affect me. But I have studied her case well, and you will find when yonder fair moon now rising from behind the hills of Scutari shall sink again to rest, your daughter will be well."

"Then will I stop and watch the wonderful operation of thy drugs."

"Nay, they must be applied in the open air and beneath the moon's rays, with none to observe, save the stars."

"Then may the Prophet protect you. I will leave my child in your care. Shall I do this, Zillah?"

"Father, yes, with thy blessing first," said the fair girl; for well she knew, that the medicine which was to cure her, would carry her away from his side and her childhood home, perhaps forever.

The Bey pressed his lips to her forehead, and with a curious glance at the strange jars and vials, which the pretended Jew had displayed, he turned away and left them together.

"Ah, dearest Zillah," said Selim, as soon as he found himself alone with her he loved, "all is prepared as I promised thee, and at midnight we will leave this palace forever."

"Alas! dear Selim, my heart is ever with thee, but it is very sad to turn away from these scenes among which I have grown up from infancy; but full well I know I can never be thine otherwise."

"In time your father will be reconciled to us both, Zillah, and then we may return again," said the disguised lover, striving to re-assure the gentle girl, whose heart almost failed her.

"But what a fearful risk you incur even now," she said; "your disguise once discovered, Selim, and to-morrow's sun would never shine upon you; your life would be forfeited."

"Fear not for me, dearest. I am well versed in the part I am to play. But come, it is already time for us to walk forth in the moonlight. Clothe thyself thoughtfully, Zillah, for your dress must be such as will suffice you for many days, since we must fly far away over the sea, beyond the reach of pursuit."

"I will be thoughtful," answered the gentle girl, retiring a few moments from his side.

They wandered on among the fairy-like scenes of the garden, where the trees overhung the Bosphorus, repeating once more the story of their love, and renewing those oft-repeated promises of eternal fidelity, until nearly midnight, when Selim suddenly started as he heard the low, muffled sound of oars. He paused but for a moment, then hastily seizing upon Zillah's arm, he urged her to follow him quickly to the water's edge. Throwing a heavy, long military cloak about her, he completely screened her from all eyes, and placing her in the stern of the boat that came for him, with a wave of the hand he bade his men give way, while he steered the caique towards a craft that lay up the river towards the city, and soon disappeared among the forest of masts and shipping that lay at anchor off Seraglio Point.

They had made good their escape at least for the present, and were safe on board the ship commanded by Captain Selim. The very boldness of his scheme would prevent him from being discovered, and neither feared that the ship of the Sultan would be searched at any event, to find the lost daughter of the old Bey.

On the subsequent day the old Bey summoned his royal master to assist him to find his child. The Armenian doctor, who recommended the pretended Jew, was called upon to explain matters, but, to the astonishment of the Turk, he denied in toto any knowledge of what he referred to, declared before the Sultan that he had neither offered to send any one to the Bey's house, nor had he done so, nor did he know a single Jewish leech in the capital.

Confounded at such a flat contradiction, and having not the least evidence to rebut it, the Turk was obliged to withdraw from the royal presence discomfited, while the Armenian doctor retired to his own dwelling, comforting himself, in the first place, if he had uttered a falsehood it was in a good cause; and next, that he held it no crime to deceive or to cheat an infidel, and ever one knows how little love exists between the Turks and Armenians, at Constantinople.

The truth was that the Armenian had long known Selim, had taught him his religion, and, had instructed him much at various times in such matters as it behooved him to know, and which had placed him at an early age far above many others in the service, who had all sorts of favoritism to advance their interests. He knew of Selim's love for the old Bey's daughter, and when chance led the father to consult him about his child, the idea of sending Selim to his house, as he succeeded in doing, flashed across his mind, and he proposed it to the father, as we have seen.

Selim's Armenian friend repaired on board his vessel as soon as he was released from the presence of the Sultan, upon the inquiry to which we have alluded. It would have gone hard with him had it not been that his skill in his profession had long since recommended him to the Sultan, in whose household he frequently appeared. Selim greeted him kindly, and told him he was indebted to him for his future happiness in life.

"We have been so successful in this plan," said the Armenian, "that I have half a mind to try one of a similar, but far bolder character, if you will assist me."

"With all my heart. What is it you propose?" asked Captain Selim.

"In my visits to the Sultan's harem, I have more than once been brought--"

"Is the attempt to be made upon the Sultan's harem?" interrupted Selim.

"Be patient and hear my story."

"I will, but this must be a bold business."

"I say, in my visits to the Sultan's household, I have often been brought in contact with one whom I know to be very unhappy, and who is detained there against her will. She is queen, I think, not only of the harem, but also of its master's heart, her beauty and bearing being of surpassing loveliness. Her history, too, as far as I can learn, is one of romantic interest, and she pines to return to her home in Circassia, from whence she was violently torn. At first when she came here, I was called upon to treat her case, for she had lately recovered from some severe sickness, and I then saw how tenderly the Sultan regarded her. Well, at that time she was both deaf and dumb, but--"

"Hold! do you say she was deaf and dumb?" asked Selim, as if he recalled some memory of the past.

"I did."

"Strange," mused the officer; "it must be the slave that I bid for in the market."

And so indeed it was the same beautiful being who had so earnestly attracted him, as the reader will remember, when the Sultan's agent, Mustapha, overbid him in the bazaar.

"You know her then?" asked the Armenian.

"I think so; but go on."

"Well, I am satisfied that she pines to be released, and from hearing her story, and tending her in a short illness, I have become deeply interested in her. You know, Selim, that I hate the Turks in my heart, and if I can by any means rob the Sultan of this girl, and restore her to her home, I would risk much to do so."

"The very idea looks to me like an impossibility," answered the young officer.

"Nothing is impossible where will and energy combine."

"What is your plan?"

"You have resolved to fly from here, you tell me at least, by to-morrow night."

"Yes. I have purchased that skimmer of the waters, the Petrel, and I shall sail at that time with Zillah, for the Russian coast, or Trebizond on the south of the Black Sea."

"Very good; now why not take