The Rise of Iskander

Iskander paced the room with a troubled step and thoughtful brow. After some minutes he leant down by the Prince of Athens, and endeavoured to console him.

“It is in vain, Iskander, it is in vain,” said Nicæus. “I wish to die.”

“Were I a favoured lover, in such a situation,” replied Iskander, “I should scarcely consider death my duty, unless the sacrifice of myself preserved my mistress.”

“Hah!” exclaimed Nicæus, starting from the ground. “Do you conceive, then, the possibility of rescuing her?”

“If she live, she is a prisoner in the Seraglio at Adrianople. You are as good a judge as myself of the prospect that awaits your exertions. It is, without doubt, a difficult adventure, but such, methinks, as a Christian knight should scarcely shun.”

“To horse;” exclaimed Nicæus, “to horse—And yet what can I do? Were she in any other place but the capital I might rescue her by force, but in the heart of their empire, it is impossible. Is there no ransom that can tempt the Turk? My principality would rise in the balance beside this jewel.”

“That were scarcely wise, and certainly not just,” replied Iskander; “but ransom will be of no avail. Hunniades has already offered to restore Karam Bey, and all the prisoners of rank, and the chief trophies, and Amurath has refused to listen to any terms. The truth is, Iduna has found favour in the eyes of his son, the young Mahomed.”

“Holy Virgin! hast thou no pity on this Christian maid?” exclaimed Nicæus. “The young Mahomed! Shall this licentious infidel—ah! Iskander, dear, dear Iskander, you who have so much wisdom, and so much courage; you who can devise all things, and dare all things; help me, help me; on my knees I do beseech you, take up this trying cause of foul oppression, and for the sake of all you love and reverence, your creed, your country, and perchance your friend, let your great genius, like some solemn angel, haste to the rescue of the sweet Iduna, and save her, save her!”

“Some thoughts like these were rising in my mind when first I spoke,” replied Iskander. “This is a better cue, far more beseeming princes than boyish tears, and all the outward misery of woe, a tattered garment and dishevelled locks. Come, Nicæus, we have to struggle with a mighty fortune. Let us be firm as Fate itself.”

CHAPTER 8

Immediately after his interview with Nicæus, Iskander summoned some of the chief citizens of Croia to the citadel, and submitting to them his arrangements for the administration of Epirus, announced the necessity of his instant departure for a short interval; and the same evening, ere the moon had risen, himself and the Prince of Athens quitted the city, and proceeded in the direction of Adrianople. They travelled with great rapidity until they reached a small town upon the frontiers, where they halted for one day. Here, in the Bazaar, Iskander purchased for himself the dress of an Armenian physician. In his long dark robes, and large round cap of black wool, his face and hands stained, and his beard and mustachios shaven, it seemed impossible that he could be recognised. Nicæus was habited as his page, in a dress of coarse red cloth, setting tight to his form, with a red cap, with a long blue tassel. He carried a large bag containing drugs, some surgical instruments, and a few books. In this guise, as soon as the gates were open on the morrow, Iskander, mounted on a very small mule, and Nicæus on a very large donkey, the two princes commenced the pass of the mountainous range, an arm of the Balkan which divided Epirus from Roumelia.

“I broke the wind of the finest charger in all Asia when I last ascended these mountains,” said Iskander; “I hope this day’s journey way be accepted as a sort of atonement.”

“Faith! there is little doubt I am the best mounted of the two,” said Nicæus. “However, I hope we shall return at a sharper pace.”

“How came it, my Nicæus,” said Iskander, “that you never mentioned to me the name of Iduna when we were at Athens? I little supposed when I made my sudden visit to Hunniades, that I was about to appeal to so fair a host. She is a rarely gifted lady.”

“I knew of her being at the camp as little as yourself,” replied the Prince of Athens, “and for the rest, the truth is, Iskander, there are some slight crosses in our loves, which Time, I hope, will fashion rightly.” So saying Nicæus pricked on his donkey, and flung his stick at a bird which was perched on the branch of a tree. Iskander did not resume a topic to which his companion seemed disinclined. Their journey was tedious. Towards nightfall they reached the summit of the usual track; and as the descent was difficult, they were obliged to rest until daybreak.

On the morrow they had a magnificent view of the rich plains of Roumelia, and in the extreme distance, the great city of Adrianople, its cupolas and minarets blazing and sparkling in the sun. This glorious prospect at once revived all their energies. It seemed that the moment of peril and of fate had arrived. They pricked on their sorry steeds; and on the morning of the next day, presented themselves at the gates of the city. The thorough knowledge which Iskander possessed of the Turkish character obtained them an entrance, which was at one time almost doubtful, from the irritability and impatience of Nicæus. They repaired to a caravansera of good repute in the neighbourhood of the seraglio; and having engaged their rooms, the Armenian physician, attended by his page, visited several of the neighbouring coffee-houses, announcing, at the same time, his arrival, his profession, and his skill.

As Iskander felt pulses, examined tongues, and distributed drugs and charms, he listened with interest and amusement to the conversation of which he himself was often the hero. He found that the Turks had not yet recovered from their consternation at his audacity and success. They were still wondering, and if possible more astounded than indignant. The politicians of the coffee-houses, chiefly consisting of Janissaries, were loud in their murmurs. The popularity of Amurath had vanished before the triumph of Hunniades, and the rise of Iskander.

“But Allah has in some instances favoured the faithful,” remarked Iskander; “I heard in my travels of your having captured a great princess of the Giaours.”

“God is great!” said an elderly Turk with a long white heard. “The Hakim congratulates the faithful because they have taken a woman!”

“Not so merely,” replied Iskander; “I heard the woman was a princess. If so, the people of Franguestan will pay any ransom for their great women; and, by giving up this fair Giaour, you may free many of the faithful.”

“Mashallah!” said another ancient Turk, sipping his coffee. “The Hakim speaks wisely.”

“May I murder my mother!” exclaimed a young Janissary, with great indignation. “But this is the very thing that makes me wild against Amurath. Is not this princess a daughter of that accursed Giaour, that dog of dogs, Hunniades? and has he not offered for her ransom our brave Karam Bey himself, and his chosen warriors? and has not Amurath said nay? And why has he said nay? Because his son, the Prince of Mahomed, instead of fighting against the Giaours, has looked upon one of their women, and has become a Mejnoun. Pah! May I murder my mother, but if the Giaours were in full march to the city, I’d not fight. And let him tell this to the Cadi who dares; for there are ten thousand of us, and we have sworn by the Kettle but we will not fight for Giaours, or those who love Giaours!”

“If you mean me, Ali, about going to the Cadi,” said the chief eunuch of Mahomed, who was standing by, “let me tell you I am no tale-bearer, and scorn to do an unmanly act. The young prince can beat the Giaours without the aid of those who are noisy enough in a coffee-house when they are quiet enough in the field. And, for the rest of the business, you may all ease your hearts; for the Frangy princess you talk of is pining away, and will soon die. The Sultan has offered a hundred purses of gold to any one who cures her; but the gold will never be counted by the Hasnadar, or I will double it.”

“Try your fortune, Hakim,” said several laughing loungers to Iskander.

“Allah has stricken the Frangy princess,” said the old Turk with a white beard.

“He will strike all Giaours,” said his ancient companion, sipping his coffee. “It is so written.”

“Well! I do not like to hear of women slaves pining to death,” said the young Janissary, in a softened tone, “particularly when they are young. Amurath should have ransomed her, or he might have given her to one of his officers, or any young fellow that had particularly distinguished himself.” And so, twirling his mustachios, and flinging down his piastre, the young Janissary strutted out of the coffee-house.

“When we were young,” said the old Turk with the white beard to his companion, shaking his head, “when we were young—”

“We conquered Anatolia, and never opened our mouths,” rejoined his companion.

“I never offered an opinion till I was sixty,” said the old Turk; “and then it was one which had been in our family for a century.”

“No wonder Hunniades carries everything before him,” said his companion.

“And that accursed Iskander,” said the old man.

The chief eunuch, finishing his vase of sherbet, moved away. The Armenian physician followed him.

CHAPTER 9

The chief eunuch turned into a burial-ground, through which a way led, by an avenue of cypress-trees, to the quarter of the Seraglio. The Armenian physician, accompanied by his page, followed him.

“Noble sir!” said the Armenian physician; “may I trespass for a moment on your lordship’s attention?”

“Worthy Hakim, is it you?” replied the chief eunuch, turning round with an encouraging smile of courteous condescension, “your pleasure?”

“I would speak to you of important matters,” said the physician.

The eunuch carelessly seated himself on a richly-carved tomb, and crossing his legs with an air of pleasant superiority, adjusted a fine emerald that sparkled on his finger, and bade the Hakim address him without hesitation.

“I am a physician,” said the Armenian.

The eunuch nodded.

“And I heard your lordship in the coffee-house mention that the Sultan, our sublime Master, had offered a rich reward to any one who could effect the cure of a favourite captive.”

“No less a reward than one hundred purses of gold,” remarked the eunuch. “The reward is proportioned to the exigency of the cue. Believe me, worthy sir, it is desperate.”

“With mortal means,” replied the Armenian; “but I possess a talisman of magical influence, which no disorder can resist. I would fain try its efficacy.”

“This is not the first talisman that has been offered us, worthy doctor,” said the eunuch, smiling incredulously.

“But the first that has been offered on these terms,” said the Armenian. “Let me cure the captive, and of the one hundred purses, a moiety shall belong to yourself. Ay! so confident am I of success, that I deem it no hazard to commence our contract by this surety.” And so saying, the Armenian took from his finger a gorgeous carbuncle, and offered it to the eunuch. The worthy dependent of the Seraglio had a great taste in jewellery. He examined the stone with admiration, and placed it on his finger with complacency. “I require no inducements to promote the interests of science, and the purposes of charity,” said the eunuch, with a patronising air. “‘Tis assuredly a pretty stone, and, as the memorial of an ingenious stranger, whom I respect, I shall, with pleasure, retain it. You were saying something about a talisman. Are you serious? I doubt not that there are means which might obtain you the desired trial; but the Prince Mahomed is as violent when displeased or disappointed as munificent when gratified. Cure this Christian captive, and we may certainly receive the promised purses: fail, and your head will as assuredly be flung into the Seraglio moat, to say nothing of my own.”

“Most noble sir!” said the physician, “I am willing to undertake the experiment on the terms you mention. Rest assured that the patient, if alive, must, with this remedy, speedily recover. You marvel! Believe me, had you witnessed the cures which it has already effected, you would only wonder at its otherwise incredible influence.”

“You have the advantage,” replied the eunuch, “of addressing a man who has seen something of the world. I travel every year to Anatolia with the Prince Mahomed. Were I a narrow-minded bigot, and had never been five miles from Adrianople in the whole course of my life, I might indeed be sceptical. But I am a patron of science, and have heard of talismans. How much might this ring weigh, think you?”

“I have heard it spoken of as a carbuncle of uncommon size,” replied the Armenian.

“Where did you say you lodged, Hakim?”