The Lady of the Shroud - Bram Stoker (phonics reader txt) 📗

returned at once, and set the signallers to work to spread

amongst our own people such news as we had.

 

When presently such discoveries as had been made were signalled with

flags to the Castle, it was found that the marauders had, in their

flight, followed a strangely zigzag course. It was evident that, in

trying to baffle pursuit, they had tried to avoid places which they

thought might be dangerous to them. This may have been simply a

method to disconcert pursuit. If so, it was, in a measure,

excellent, for none of those immediately following could possibly

tell in what direction they were heading. It was only when we worked

the course on the great map in the signaller’s room (which was the

old guard room of the Castle) that we could get an inkling of the

general direction of their flight. This gave added trouble to the

pursuit; for the men who followed, being ignorant of their general

intent, could not ever take chance to head them off, but had to be

ready to follow in any or every direction. In this manner the

pursuit was altogether a stern chase, and therefore bound to be a

long one.

 

As at present we could not do anything till the intended route was

more marked, I left the signalling corps to the task of receiving and

giving information to the moving bands, so that, if occasion served,

they might head off the marauders. I myself took Rooke, as captain

of the yacht, and swept out of the creek. We ran up north to

Dalairi, then down south to Olesso, and came back to Vissarion. We

saw nothing suspicious except, far off to the extreme southward, one

warship which flew no flag. Rooke, however, who seemed to know ships

by instinct, said she was a Turk; so on our return we signalled along

the whole shore to watch her. Rooke held The Lady—which was the

name I had given the armoured yacht—in readiness to dart out in case

anything suspicious was reported. He was not to stand on any

ceremony, but if necessary to attack. We did not intend to lose a

point in this desperate struggle which we had undertaken. We had

placed in different likely spots a couple of our own men to look

after the signalling.

 

When I got back I found that the route of the fugitives, who had now

joined into one party, had been definitely ascertained. They had

gone south, but manifestly taking alarm from the advancing line of

guards, had headed up again to the north-east, where the country was

broader and the mountains wilder and less inhabited.

 

Forthwith, leaving the signalling altogether in the hands of the

fighting priests, I took a small chosen band of the mountaineers of

our own district, and made, with all the speed we could, to cut

across the track of the fugitives a little ahead of them. The

Archimandrite (Abbot) of Spazac, who had just arrived, came with us.

He is a splendid man—a real fighter as well as a holy cleric, as

good with his handjar as with his Bible, and a runner to beat the

band. The marauders were going at a fearful pace, considering that

they were all afoot; so we had to go fast also! Amongst these

mountains there is no other means of progressing. Our own men were

so aflame with ardour that I could not but notice that they, more

than any of the others whom I had seen, had some special cause for

concern.

 

When I mentioned it to the Archimandrite, who moved by my side, he

answered:

 

“All natural enough; they are not only fighting for their country,

but for their own!” I did not quite understand his answer, and so

began to ask him some questions, to the effect that I soon began to

understand a good deal more than he did.

 

Letter from Archbishop Stevan Palealogue, Head of the Eastern Church

of the Blue Mountains, to the Lady Janet MacKelpie, Vissarion.

Written July 9, 1907.

 

HONOURED LADY,

 

As you wish for an understanding regarding the late lamentable

occurrence in which so much danger was incurred to this our Land of

the Blue Mountains, and one dear to us, I send these words by request

of the Gospodar Rupert, beloved of our mountaineers.

 

When the Voivode Peter Vissarion made his journey to the great nation

to whom we looked in our hour of need, it was necessary that he

should go in secret. The Turk was at our gates, and full of the

malice of baffled greed. Already he had tried to arrange a marriage

with the Voivodin, so that in time to come he, as her husband, might

have established a claim to the inheritance of the land. Well he

knew, as do all men, that the Blue Mountaineers owe allegiance to

none that they themselves do not appoint to rulership. This has been

the history in the past. But now and again an individual has arisen

or come to the front adapted personally for such government as this

land requires. And so the Lady Teuta, Voivodin of the Blue

Mountains, was put for her proper guarding in the charge of myself as

Head of the Eastern Church in the Land of the Blue Mountains, steps

being taken in such wise that no capture of her could be effected by

unscrupulous enemies of this our Land. This task and guardianship

was gladly held as an honour by all concerned. For the Voivodin

Teuta of Vissarion must be taken as representing in her own person

the glory of the old Serb race, inasmuch as being the only child of

the Voivode Vissarion, last male of his princely race—the race which

ever, during the ten centuries of our history, unflinchingly gave

life and all they held for the protection, safety, and well-being of

the Land of the Blue Mountains. Never during those centuries had any

one of the race been known to fail in patriotism, or to draw back

from any loss or hardship enjoined by high duty or stress of need.

Moreover, this was the race of that first Voivode Vissarion, of whom,

in legend, it was prophesied that he—once known as “The Sword of

Freedom,” a giant amongst men—would some day, when the nation had

need of him, come forth from his water-tomb in the lost Lake of Reo,

and lead once more the men of the Blue Mountains to lasting victory.

This noble race, then, had come to be known as the last hope of the

Land. So that when the Voivode was away on his country’s service,

his daughter should be closely guarded. Soon after the Voivode had

gone, it was reported that he might be long delayed in his

diplomacies, and also in studying the system of Constitutional

Monarchy, for which it had been hoped to exchange our imperfect

political system. I may say inter alia that he was mentioned as to

be the first king when the new constitution should have been

arranged.

 

Then a great misfortune came on us; a terrible grief overshadowed the

land. After a short illness, the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion died

mysteriously of a mysterious ailment. The grief of the mountaineers

was so great that it became necessary for the governing Council to

warn them not to allow their sorrow to be seen. It was imperatively

necessary that the fact of her death should be kept secret. For

there were dangers and difficulties of several kinds. In the first

place it was advisable that even her father should be kept in

ignorance of his terrible loss. It was well known that he held her

as the very core of his heart and that if he should hear of her

death, he would be too much prostrated to be able to do the intricate

and delicate work which he had undertaken. Nay, more: he would

never remain afar off, under the sad circumstances, but would

straightway return, so as to be in the land where she lay. Then

suspicions would crop up, and the truth must shortly be known afield,

with the inevitable result that the Land would become the very centre

of a war of many nations.

 

In the second place, if the Turks were to know that the race of

Vissarion was becoming extinct, this would encourage them to further

aggression, which would become immediate should they find out that

the Voivode was himself away. It was well known that they were

already only suspending hostilities until a fitting opportunity

should arise. Their desire for aggression had become acute after the

refusal of the nation, and of the girl herself, that she should

become a wife of the Sultan.

 

The dead girl had been buried in the Crypt of the church of St. Sava,

and day after day and night after night, singly and in parties, the

sorrowing mountaineers had come to pay devotion and reverence at her

tomb. So many had wished to have a last glimpse of her face that the

Vladika had, with my own consent as Archbishop, arranged for a glass

cover to be put over the stone coffin wherein her body lay.

 

After a little time, however, there came a belief to all concerned in

the guarding of the body—these, of course, being the priests of

various degrees of dignity appointed to the task—that the Voivodin

was not really dead, but only in a strangely-prolonged trance.

Thereupon a new complication arose. Our mountaineers are, as perhaps

you know, by nature deeply suspicious—a characteristic of all brave

and self-sacrificing people who are jealous of their noble heritage.

Having, as they believed, seen the girl dead, they might not be

willing to accept the fact of her being alive. They might even

imagine that there was on foot some deep, dark plot which was, or

might be, a menace, now or hereafter, to their independence. In any

case, there would be certain to be two parties on the subject, a

dangerous and deplorable thing in the present condition of affairs.

 

As the trance, or catalepsy, whatever it was, continued for many

days, there had been ample time for the leaders of the Council, the

Vladika, the priesthood represented by the Archimandrite of Spazac,

myself as Archbishop and guardian of the Voivodin in her father’s

absence, to consult as to a policy to be observed in case of the girl

awaking. For in such case the difficulty of the situation would be

multiplied indefinitely. In the secret chambers of St. Sava’s we had

many secret meetings, and were finally converging on agreement when

the end of the trance came.

 

The girl awoke!

 

She was, of course, terribly frightened when she found herself in a

tomb in the Crypt. It was truly fortunate that the great candles

around her tomb had been kept lighted, for their light mitigated the

horror of the place. Had she waked in darkness, her reason might

have become unseated.

 

She was, however, a very noble girl; brave, with extraordinary will,

and resolution, and self-command, and power of endurance. When she

had been taken into one of the secret chambers of the church, where

she was warmed and cared for, a hurried meeting was held by the

Vladika, myself, and the chiefs of the National Council. Word had

been at once sent to me of the joyful news of her recovery; and with

the utmost haste I came, arriving in time to take a part in the

Council.

 

At the meeting the Voivodin was herself present, and full confidence

of the situation was made to her. She herself proposed that the

belief in her death should be allowed to prevail until the return of

her father, when all could be effectively made clear. To this end

she undertook to submit to the terrific