Michael Strogoff; Or, The Courier of the Czar

  CHAPTER V "LOOK WHILE YOU MAY!"

  MICHAEL was held before the Emir's throne, at the foot of the terrace,his hands bound behind his back. His mother overcome at last by mentaland physical torture, had sunk to the ground, daring neither to look norlisten.

  "Look while you may," exclaimed Feofar-Kahn, stretching his arm towardsMichael in a threatening manner. Doubtless Ivan Ogareff, being wellacquainted with Tartar customs, had taken in the full meaning of thesewords, for his lips curled for an instant in a cruel smile; he then tookhis place by Feofar-Khan.

  A trumpet call was heard. This was the signal for the amusements tobegin. "Here comes the ballet," said Alcide to Blount; "but, contrary toour customs, these barbarians give it before the drama."

  Michael had been commanded to look at everything. He looked. A troopof dancers poured into the open space before the Emir's tent. DifferentTartar instruments, the "doutare," a long-handled guitar, the "kobize,"a kind of violoncello, the "tschibyzga," a long reed flute; windinstruments, tom-toms, tambourines, united with the deep voices of thesingers, formed a strange harmony. Added to this were the strains of anaerial orchestra, composed of a dozen kites, which, fastened by stringsto their centers, resounded in the breeze like AEolian harps.

  Then the dancers began. The performers were all of Persian origin;they were no longer slaves, but exercised their profession at liberty.Formerly they figured officially in the ceremonies at the court ofTeheran, but since the accession of the reigning family, banished ortreated with contempt, they had been compelled to seek their fortuneelsewhere. They wore the national costume, and were adorned with aprofusion of jewels. Little triangles of gold, studded with jewels,glittered in their ears. Circles of silver, marked with black,surrounded their necks and legs.

  These performers gracefully executed various dances, sometimes alone,sometimes in groups. Their faces were uncovered, but from time to timethey threw a light veil over their heads, and a gauze cloud passed overtheir bright eyes as smoke over a starry sky. Some of these Persianswore leathern belts embroidered with pearls, from which hung littletriangular bags. From these bags, embroidered with golden filigree, theydrew long narrow bands of scarlet silk, on which were braided versesof the Koran. These bands, which they held between them, formed a beltunder which the other dancers darted; and, as they passed each verse,following the precept it contained, they either prostrated themselveson the earth or lightly bounded upwards, as though to take a place amongthe houris of Mohammed's heaven.

  But what was remarkable, and what struck Alcide, was that the Persiansappeared rather indolent than fiery. Their passion had deserted them,and, by the kind of dances as well as by their execution, they recalledrather the calm and self-possessed nauch girls of India than theimpassioned dancers of Egypt.

  When this was over, a stern voice was heard saying:

  "Look while you may!"

  The man who repeated the Emir's words--a tall spare Tartar--was he whocarried out the sentences of Feofar-Khan against offenders. He had takenhis place behind Michael, holding in his hand a broad curved saber, oneof those Damascene blades which are forged by the celebrated armorers ofKarschi or Hissar.

  Behind him guards were carrying a tripod supporting a chafing-dishfilled with live coals. No smoke arose from this, but a light vaporsurrounded it, due to the incineration of a certain aromatic andresinous substance which he had thrown on the surface.

  The Persians were succeeded by another party of dancers, whom Michaelrecognized. The journalists also appeared to recognize them, for Blountsaid to his companion, "These are the Tsiganes of Nijni-Novgorod."

  "No doubt of it," cried Alcide. "Their eyes, I imagine, bring more moneyto these spies than their legs."

  In putting them down as agents in the Emir's service, Alcide Jolivetwas, by all accounts, not mistaken.

  In the first rank of the Tsiganes, Sangarre appeared, superb in herstrange and picturesque costume, which set off still further herremarkable beauty.

  Sangarre did not dance, but she stood as a statue in the midst of theperformers, whose style of dancing was a combination of that of allthose countries through which their race had passed--Turkey, Bohemia,Egypt, Italy, and Spain. They were enlivened by the sound of cymbals,which clashed on their arms, and by the hollow sounds of the "daires"--asort of tambourine played with the fingers.

  Sangarre, holding one of those daires, which she played between herhands, encouraged this troupe of veritable corybantes. A young Tsigane,of about fifteen years of age, then advanced. He held in his hand a"doutare," strings of which he made to vibrate by a simple movement ofthe nails. He sung. During the singing of each couplet, of very peculiarrhythm, a dancer took her position by him and remained there immovable,listening to him, but each time that the burden came from the lips ofthe young singer, she resumed her dance, dinning in his ears with herdaire, and deafening him with the clashing of her cymbals. Then, afterthe last chorus, the remainder surrounded the Tsigane in the windings oftheir dance.

  At that moment a shower of gold fell from the hands of the Emir and histrain, and from the hands of his officers of all ranks; to the noisewhich the pieces made as they struck the cymbals of the dancers, beingadded the last murmurs of the doutares and tambourines.

  "Lavish as robbers," said Alcide in the ear of his companion. And infact it was the result of plunder which was falling; for, with theTartar tomans and sequins, rained also Russian ducats and roubles.

  Then silence followed for an instant, and the voice of the executioner,who laid his hand on Michael's shoulder, once more pronounced the words,which this repetition rendered more and more sinister:

  "Look while you may"

  But this time Alcide observed that the executioner no longer held thesaber bare in his hand.

  Meanwhile the sun had sunk behind the horizon. A semi-obscurity beganto envelop the plain. The mass of cedars and pines became blacker andblacker, and the waters of the Tom, totally obscured in the distance,mingled with the approaching shadows.

  But at that instant several hundreds of slaves, bearing lighted torches,entered the square. Led by Sangarre, Tsiganes and Persians reappearedbefore the Emir's throne, and showed off, by the contrast, their dancesof styles so different. The instruments of the Tartar orchestra soundedforth in harmony still more savage, accompanied by the guttural cries ofthe singers. The kites, which had fallen to the ground, once more wingedtheir way into the sky, each bearing a parti-colored lantern, and undera fresher breeze their harps vibrated with intenser sound in the midstof the aerial illumination.

  Then a squadron of Tartars, in their brilliant uniforms, mingled inthe dances, whose wild fury was increasing rapidly, and then began aperformance which produced a very strange effect. Soldiers came on theground, armed with bare sabers and long pistols, and, as they executeddances, they made the air re-echo with the sudden detonations of theirfirearms, which immediately set going the rumbling of the tambourines,and grumblings of the daires, and the gnashing of doutares.

  Their arms, covered with a colored powder of some metallic ingredient,after the Chinese fashion, threw long jets--red, green, and blue--sothat the groups of dancers seemed to be in the midst of fireworks.In some respects, this performance recalled the military dance ofthe ancients, in the midst of naked swords; but this Tartar dancewas rendered yet more fantastic by the colored fire, which wound,serpent-like, above the dancers, whose dresses seemed to be embroideredwith fiery hems. It was like a kaleidoscope of sparks, whose infinitecombinations varied at each movement of the dancers.

  Though it may be thought that a Parisian reporter would be perfectlyhardened to any scenic effect, which our modern ideas have carried sofar, yet Alcide Jolivet could not restrain a slight movement of thehead, which at home, between the Boulevard Montmartre and La Madeleinewould have said--"Very fair, very fair."

  Then, suddenly, at a signal, all the lights of the fantasia wereextinguished, the dances ceased, and the performers disappeared. Theceremony was over, and the torches alone lighted
up the plateau, which afew instants before had been so brilliantly illuminated.

  On a sign from the Emir, Michael was led into the middle of the square.

  "Blount," said Alcide to his companion, "are you going to see the end ofall this?"

  "No, that I am not," replied Blount.

  "The readers of the Daily Telegraph are, I hope, not very eager for thedetails of an execution a la mode Tartare?"

  "No more than your cousin!"

  "Poor fellow!" added Alcide, as he watched Michael. "That valiantsoldier should have fallen on the field of battle!"

  "Can we do nothing to save him?" said Blount.

  "Nothing!"

  The reporters recalled Michael's generous conduct towards them; theyknew now through what trials he must have passed, ever obedient to hisduty; and in the midst of these Tartars, to whom pity is unknown, theycould do nothing for him. Having little desire to be present at thetorture reserved for the unfortunate man, they returned to the town.An hour later, they were on the road to Irkutsk, for it was amongthe Russians that they intended to follow what Alcide called, byanticipation, "the campaign of revenge."

  Meantime, Michael was standing ready, his eyes returning the Emir'shaughty glance, while his countenance assumed an expression of intensescorn whenever he cast his looks on Ivan Ogareff. He was prepared todie, yet not a single sign of weakness escaped him.

  The spectators, waiting around the square, as well as Feofar-Khan'sbody-guard, to whom this execution was only one of the attractions, wereeagerly expecting it. Then, their curiosity satisfied, they would rushoff to enjoy the pleasures of intoxication.

  The Emir made a sign. Michael was thrust forward by his guards to thefoot of the terrace, and Feofar said to him, "You came to see our goingsout and comings in, Russian spy. You have seen for the last time. In aninstant your eyes will be forever shut to the day."

  Michael's fate was to be not death, but blindness; loss of sight, moreterrible perhaps than loss of life. The unhappy man was condemned to beblinded.

  However, on hearing the Emir's sentence Michael's heart did not growfaint. He remained unmoved, his eyes wide open, as though he wishedto concentrate his whole life into one last look. To entreat pity fromthese savage men would be useless, besides, it would be unworthy of him.He did not even think of it. His thoughts were condensed on his mission,which had apparently so completely failed; on his mother, on Nadia, whomhe should never more see! But he let no sign appear of the emotion hefelt. Then, a feeling of vengeance to be accomplished came over him."Ivan," said he, in a stern voice, "Ivan the Traitor, the last menace ofmy eyes shall be for you!"

  Ivan Ogareff shrugged his shoulders.

  But Michael was not to be looking at Ivan when his eyes were put out.Marfa Strogoff stood before him.

  "My mother!" cried he. "Yes! yes! my last glance shall be for you, andnot for this wretch! Stay there, before me! Now I see once more yourwell-beloved face! Now shall my eyes close as they rest upon it...!"

  The old woman, without uttering a word, advanced.

  "Take that woman away!" said Ivan.

  Two soldiers were about to seize her, but she stepped back and remainedstanding a few paces from Michael.

  The executioner appeared. This time, he held his saber bare in his hand,and this saber he had just drawn from the chafing-dish, where he hadbrought it to a white heat. Michael was going to be blinded in theTartar fashion, with a hot blade passed before his eyes!

  Michael did not attempt to resist. Nothing existed before his eyes buthis mother, whom his eyes seemed to devour. All his life was in thatlast look.

  Marfa Strogoff, her eyes open wide, her arms extended towards where hestood, was gazing at him. The incandescent blade passed before Michael'seyes.

  A despairing cry was heard. His aged mother fell senseless to theground. Michael Strogoff was blind.

  His orders executed, the Emir retired with his train. There remainedin the square only Ivan Ogareff and the torch bearers. Did the wretchintend to insult his victim yet further, and yet to give him a partingblow?

  Ivan Ogareff slowly approached Michael, who, feeling him coming, drewhimself up. Ivan drew from his pocket the Imperial letter, he opened it,and with supreme irony he held it up before the sightless eyes of theCzar's courier, saying, "Read, now, Michael Strogoff, read, and go andrepeat at Irkutsk what you have read. The true Courier of the Czar isIvan Ogareff."

  This said, the traitor thrust the letter into his breast. Then, withoutlooking round he left the square, followed by the torch-bearers.

  Michael was left alone, at a few paces from his mother, lying lifeless,perhaps dead. He heard in the distance cries and songs, the variednoises of a wild debauch. Tomsk, illuminated, glittered and gleamed.

  Michael listened. The square was silent and deserted. He went, gropinghis way, towards the place where his mother had fallen. He found herwith his hand, he bent over her, he put his face close to hers, helistened for the beating of her heart. Then he murmured a few words.

  Did Marfa still live, and did she hear her son's words? Whether shedid so or not, she made not the slightest movement. Michael kissed herforehead and her white locks. He then raised himself, and, groping withhis foot, trying to stretch out his hand to guide himself, he walked bydegrees to the edge of the square.

  Suddenly Nadia appeared. She walked straight to her companion. A knifein her hand cut the cords which bound Michael's arms. The blind man knewnot who had freed him, for Nadia had not spoken a word.

  But this done: "Brother!" said she.

  "Nadia!" murmured Michael, "Nadia!"

  "Come, brother," replied Nadia, "use my eyes whilst yours sleep. I willlead you to Irkutsk."