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

her being carried

off, or of the thrice gallant rescue of her by Rupert. Little wonder

that I thought so highly of him even at the first moment I had a

clear view of him when he sank down to sleep before me. Why, the man

must be a marvel. Even our mountaineers could not match such

endurance as his. In the course of her narrative my daughter told me

of how, being wearied with her long waiting in the tomb, and waking

to find herself alone when the floods were out, and even the Crypt

submerged, she sought safety and warmth elsewhere; and how she came

to the Castle in the night, and found the strange man alone. I said:

“That was dangerous, daughter, if not wrong. The man, brave and

devoted as he is, must answer me—your father.” At that she was

greatly upset, and before going on with her narrative, drew me close

in her arms, and whispered to me:

 

“Be gentle to me, father, for I have had much to bear. And be good

to him, for he holds my heart in his breast!” I reassured her with a

gentle pressure—there was no need to speak. She then went on to

tell me about her marriage, and how her husband, who had fallen into

the belief that she was a Vampire, had determined to give even his

soul for her; and how she had on the night of the marriage left him

and gone back to the tomb to play to the end the grim comedy which

she had undertaken to perform till my return; and how, on the second

night after her marriage, as she was in the garden of the Castle—

going, as she shyly told me, to see if all was well with her husband-

-she was seized secretly, muffled up, bound, and carried off. Here

she made a pause and a digression. Evidently some fear lest her

husband and myself should quarrel assailed her, for she said:

 

“Do understand, father, that Rupert’s marriage to me was in all ways

regular, and quite in accord with our customs. Before we were

married I told the Archbishop of my wish. He, as your representative

during your absence, consented himself, and brought the matter to the

notice of the Vladika and the Archimandrites. All these concurred,

having exacted from me—very properly, I think—a sacred promise to

adhere to my self-appointed task. The marriage itself was orthodox

in all ways—though so far unusual that it was held at night, and in

darkness, save for the lights appointed by the ritual. As to that,

the Archbishop himself, or the Archimandrite of Spazac, who assisted

him, or the Vladika, who acted as Paranymph, will, all or any of

them, give you full details. Your representative made all inquiries

as to Rupert Sent Leger, who lived in Vissarion, though he did not

know who I was, or from his point of view who I had been. But I must

tell you of my rescue.”

 

And so she went on to tell me of that unavailing journey south by her

captors; of their bafflement by the cordon which Rupert had

established at the first word of danger to “the daughter of our

leader,” though he little knew who the “leader” was, or who was his

“daughter”; of how the brutal marauders tortured her to speed with

their daggers; and how her wounds left blood-marks on the ground as

she passed along; then of the halt in the valley, when the marauders

came to know that their road north was menaced, if not already

blocked; of the choosing of the murderers, and their keeping ward

over her whilst their companions went to survey the situation; and of

her gallant rescue by that noble fellow, her husband—my son I shall

call him henceforth, and thank God that I may have that happiness and

that honour!

 

Then my daughter went on to tell me of the race back to Vissarion,

when Rupert went ahead of all—as a leader should do; of the

summoning of the Archbishop and the National Council; and of their

placing the nation’s handjar in Rupert’s hand; of the journey to

Ilsin, and the flight of my daughter—and my son—on the aeroplane.

 

The rest I knew.

 

As she finished, the sleeping man stirred and woke—broad awake in a

second—sure sign of a man accustomed to campaign and adventure. At

a glance he recalled everything that had been, and sprang to his

feet. He stood respectfully before me for a few seconds before

speaking. Then he said, with an open, engaging smile:

 

“I see, sir, you know all. Am I forgiven—for Teuta’s sake as well

as my own?” By this time I was also on my feet. A man like that

walks straight into my heart. My daughter, too, had risen, and stood

by my side. I put out my hand and grasped his, which seemed to leap

to meet me—as only the hand of a swordsman can do.

 

“I am glad you are my son!” I said. It was all I could say, and I

meant it and all it implied. We shook hands warmly. Teuta was

pleased; she kissed me, and then stood holding my arm with one hand,

whilst she linked her other hand in the arm of her husband.

 

He summoned one of the sentries without, and told him to ask Captain

Rooke to come to him. The latter had been ready for a call, and came

at once. When through the open flap of the tent we saw him coming,

Rupert—as I must call him now, because Teuta wishes it; and I like

to do it myself—said:

 

“I must be off to board the Turkish vessel before it comes inshore.

Good-bye, sir, in case we do not meet again.” He said the last few

words in so low a voice that I only could hear them. Then he kissed

his wife, and told her he expected to be back in time for breakfast,

and was gone. He met Rooke—I am hardly accustomed to call him

Captain as yet, though, indeed, he well deserves it—at the edge of

the cordon of sentries, and they went quickly together towards the

port, where the yacht was lying with steam up.

 

BOOK VII: THE EMPIRE OF THE AIR

 

FROM THE REPORT OF CRISTOFEROS, WAR-SCRIBE TO THE NATIONAL COUNCIL.

July 7, 1907.

 

When the Gospodar Rupert and Captain Rooke came within hailing

distance of the strange ship, the former hailed her, using one after

another the languages of England, Germany, France, Russia, Turkey,

Greece, Spain, Portugal, and another which I did not know; I think it

must have been American. By this time the whole line of the bulwark

was covered by a row of Turkish faces. When, in Turkish, the

Gospodar asked for the Captain, the latter came to the gangway, which

had been opened, and stood there. His uniform was that of the

Turkish navy—of that I am prepared to swear—but he made signs of

not understanding what had been said; whereupon the Gospodar spoke

again, but in French this time. I append the exact conversation

which took place, none other joining in it. I took down in shorthand

the words of both as they were spoken:

 

THE GOSPODAR. “Are you the Captain of this ship?”

 

THE CAPTAIN. “I am.”

 

GOSPODAR. “To what nationality do you belong?”

 

CAPTAIN. “It matters not. I am Captain of this ship.”

 

GOSPODAR. “I alluded to your ship. What national flag is she

under?”

 

CAPTAIN (throwing his eye over the top-hamper). “I do not see that

any flag is flying.”

 

GOSPODAR. “I take it that, as commander, you can allow me on board

with my two companions?”

 

CAPTAIN. “I can, upon proper request being made!”

 

GOSPODAR (taking off his cap). “I ask your courtesy, Captain. I am

the representative and accredited officer of the National Council of

the Land of the Blue Mountains, in whose waters you now are; and on

their account I ask for a formal interview on urgent matters.”

 

The Turk, who was, I am bound to say, in manner most courteous as

yet, gave some command to his officers, whereupon the companion-ladders and stage were lowered and the gangway manned, as is usual

for the reception on a ship of war of an honoured guest.

 

CAPTAIN. “You are welcome, sir—you and your two companions—as you

request.”

 

The Gospodar bowed. Our companion-ladder was rigged on the instant,

and a launch lowered. The Gospodar and Captain Rooke—taking me with

them—entered, and rowed to the warship, where we were all honourably

received. There were an immense number of men on board, soldiers as

well as seamen. It looked more like a warlike expedition than a

fighting-ship in time of peace. As we stepped on the deck, the

seamen and marines, who were all armed as at drill, presented arms.

The Gospodar went first towards the Captain, and Captain Rooke and I

followed close behind him. The Gospodar spoke:

 

“I am Rupert Sent Leger, a subject of his Britannic Majesty,

presently residing at Vissarion, in the Land of the Blue Mountains.

I am at present empowered to act for the National Council in all

matters. Here is my credential!” As he spoke he handed to the

Captain a letter. It was written in five different languages—

Balkan, Turkish, Greek, English, and French. The Captain read it

carefully all through, forgetful for the moment that he had seemingly

been unable to understand the Gospodar’s question spoken in the

Turkish tongue. Then he answered:

 

“I see the document is complete. May I ask on what subject you wish

to see me?”

 

GOSPODAR. “You are here in a ship of war in Blue Mountain waters,

yet you fly no flag of any nation. You have sent armed men ashore in

your boats, thus committing an act of war. The National Council of

the Land of the Blue Mountains requires to know what nation you

serve, and why the obligations of international law are thus broken.”

 

The Captain seemed to wait for further speech, but the Gospodar

remained silent; whereupon the former spoke.

 

CAPTAIN. “I am responsible to my own—chiefs. I refuse to answer

your question.”

 

The Gospodar spoke at once in reply.

 

GOSPODAR. “Then, sir, you, as commander of a ship—and especially a

ship of war—must know that in thus violating national and maritime

laws you, and all on board this ship, are guilty of an act of piracy.

This is not even piracy on the high seas. You are not merely within

territorial waters, but you have invaded a national port. As you

refuse to disclose the nationality of your ship, I accept, as you

seem to do, your status as that of a pirate, and shall in due season

act accordingly.”

 

CAPTAIN (with manifest hostility). “I accept the responsibility of

my own acts. Without admitting your contention, I tell you now that

whatever action you take shall be at your own peril and that of your

National Council. Moreover, I have reason to believe that my men who

were sent ashore on special service have been beleaguered in a tower

which can be seen from the ship. Before dawn this morning firing was

heard from that direction, from which I gather that attack was made

on them. They, being only a small party, may have been murdered. If

such be so, I tell you that you and your miserable little nation, as

you call it, shall pay such blood-money as you never thought of. I

am responsible for this, and, by Allah! there shall be a great

revenge. You have not in all your navy—if navy you have at all—

power to cope with even one ship like this, which is but