CHAPTER II
MAHOMMED AND COUNT CORTI MAKE A WAGER
Upon the retirement of the Prince of India and the counsellors,Mahommed took seat by the table, and played with the sword of Solomon,making the pearls travel up and down the groove in the blade, listeningto their low ringing, and searching for inscriptions. This went onuntil Count Corti began to think himself forgotten. At length theSultan, looking under the guard, uttered an exclamation--lookedagain--and cried out:
"O Allah! It is true!--May I be forgiven for doubting him!--Come,Mirza, come see if my eyes deceive me. Here at my side!"
The Count mastered his surprise, and was presently leaning over theSultan's shoulder.
"You remember, Mirza, we set out together studying Hebrew. Against yourwill I carried you along with me until you knew the alphabet, and couldread a little. You preferred Italian, and when I brought the learnedmen, and submitted to them that Hebrew was one of a family of tonguesmore or less alike, and would have sent you with them to the Sidoniancoast for inscriptions, you refused. Do you remember?"
"My Lord, those were the happiest days of my life."
Mahommed laughed. "I kept you three days on bread and water, and letyou off then because I could not do without you.... But for the matternow. Under this guard--look--are not the brilliants set in the form ofletters?"
Corti examined closely.
"Yes, yes; there are letters--I see them plainly--a name."
"Spell it."
"S-O-L-O-M-O-N."
"Then I have not deceived myself," Mahommed exclaimed. "Nor less hasthe Prince of India deceived me." He grew more serious. "A marvellousman! I cannot make him out. The more I do with him the moreincomprehensible he becomes. The long past is familiar to him as thepresent to me. He is continually digging up things ages old, andamazing me with them. Several times I have asked him when he was born,and he has always made the same reply: 'I will tell when you are Lordof Constantinople.' ... How he hates Christ and the Christians! ...This is indeed the sword of Solomon--and he found it in the tomb ofHiram, and gives it to me as the elect of the stars now. Ponder it, OMirza! Now at the mid of the night in which I whistle up my dogs of warto loose them on the _Gabour_--How, Mirza--what ails you? Why thatchange of countenance? Is he not a dog of an unbeliever? On your kneesbefore me--I have more to tell you than to ask. No, spurs aretroublesome. To the door and bid the keeper there bring a stool--andlook lest the lock have an ear hanging to it. Old Kalil, going out,though bowing, and lip-handing me, never took his eyes off you."
The stool brought, Corti was about to sit.
"Take off your cap"--Mahommed spoke sternly--"for as you are not theMirza I sent away, I want to see your face while we talk. Sit here, inthe full of the light."
The Count seated, placed his hooded cap on the floor. He was perfectlycollected. Mahommed fingered the ruby hilt while searching the eyeswhich as calmly searched his.
"How brave you are!" the Sultan began, but stopped. "Poor Mirza!" hebegan again, his countenance softened. One would have said some tenderrecollection was melting the shell of his heart. "Poor Mirza! I lovedyou better than I loved my father, better than I loved my brothers,well as I loved my mother--with a love surpassing all I ever knew butone, and of that we will presently speak. If honor has a soul, it livesin you, and the breath you draw is its wine, purer than the firstexpressage of grapes from the Prophet's garden down by Medina. Youreyes look truth, your tongue drips it as a broken honey-comb dripshoney. You are truth as God is God."
He was speaking sincerely.
"Fool--fool--that I let you go!--and I would not--no, by the rose-doorof Paradise and the golden stairs to the House of Allah, I would nothad I loved my full moon of full moons less. She was parted from me;and with whose eyes could I see her so well as with yours, O my falcon?Who else would report to me so truly her words? Love makes men andlions mad; it possessed me; and I should have died of it but for yourministering. Wherefore, O Mirza"--
The Count had been growing restive; now he spoke. "My Lord is aboutcommitting himself to some pledge. He were wise, did he hear me first."
"Perhaps so," the Sultan rejoined, uncertainly, but added immediately:"I will hear you."
"It is true, as my Lord said, I am not the Mirza he despatched toItaly. The changes I have undergone are material; and in recountingthem I anticipate his anger. He sees before him the most wretched ofmen to whom death would be mercy."
"Is it so bad? You were happy when you went away. Was not the missionto your content?"
"My Lord's memory is a crystal cup from which nothing escapes--a cupwithout a leak. He must recall how I prayed to stay with him."
"Yes, yes."
"My dread was prophetic."
"Tell me of the changes."
"I will--and truly as there is but one God, and he the father of lifeand maker of things. First, then, the affection which at my going wasmy Lord's, and which gave me to see him as the Light of the World, andthe perfection of glory in promise, is now divided."
"You mean there is another Light of the World? Be it so, and still youleave me flattered. How far you had to travel before finding the other!Who is he?"
"The Emperor of the Greeks."
"Constantine? Are his gifts so many and rich? The next."
"I am a Christian."
"Indeed? Perhaps you can tell me the difference between God and Allah.Yesterday Kourani said they were the same."
"Nay, my Lord, the difference is between Christ and Mahomet."
"The mother of the one was a Jewess, the mother of the other an Arab--Isee. Go on."
The Count did not flinch. "My Lord, great as is your love of thePrincess Irene"--Mahommed half raised his hands, his brows knit, hiseyes filled with fire, but the Count continued composedly--"mine isgreater."
The Sultan recovered himself.
"The proof, the proof!" he said, his voice a little raised. "My love ofher is consuming me, but I see you alive."
"My Lord's demand is reasonable. I came here to make the avowal, anddie. Would my Lord so much?"
"You would die for the Princess?"
"My Lord has said it."
"Is there not something else in the urgency?"
"Yes--honor."
The Count's astonishment was unspeakable. He expected an outburst ofwrath unappeasable, a summons for an executioner; instead, Mahommed'seyes became humid, and resting his elbow on the table, and his face onthe thumb and forefinger, he said, gazing sorrowfully:
"Ahmed was my little brother. His mother published before my father'sdeath, that my mother was a slave. She was working for her childalready, and I had him smothered in a bath. Cruel? God forgive me! Itwas my duty to provide for the peace of my people. I had a right totake care of myself; yet will I never be forgiven. Kismet!... I havehad many men slain since. I travel, going to mighty events beckoned bydestiny. The ordinary cheap soul cannot understand how necessary it isthat my path should be smooth and clear; for sometime I may want torun; and he will amuse or avenge himself by stamping me in history amonster without a soul. Kismet! ... But you, my poor Mirza, you shouldknow me better. You are my brother without guile. I am not afraid tolove you. I do love you. Let us see.... Your letters fromConstantinople--I have them all--told me so much more than youintended, I could not suspect your fidelity. They prepared me foreverything you have confessed. Hear how in my mind I disposed of thempoint by point.... 'Mirza,' I said, 'pities the _Gabour_ Emperor; inthe end he will love him. Loving a hundred men is less miraculous in aman than loving one. He will make comparisons. Why not? The _Gabour_appeals to him through his weakness, I through my strength. I wouldrather be feared than pitied. Moreover, the _Gabour's_ day runs to itsclose, and as it closes, mine opens. Pity never justified treason.' ...And I said, too, on reading the despatch detailing your adventures inItaly: 'Poor Mirza! now has he discovered he is an Italian, stolen whena child, and having found his father's castle and his mother, a noblewoman, he will become a Christian, for so would I in his place.' Did
Istop there? The wife of the Pacha who received you from your abductorsis in Broussa. I sent to her asking if she had a keepsake or mementowhich would help prove your family and country. See what she returnedto me."
From under a cloth at the further end of the table, Mahommed drew abox, and opening it, produced a collar of lace fastened with a cameopin. On the pin there was a graven figure.
"Tell me, Mirza, if you recognize the engraving." The Count took thecameo, looked at it, and replied, with a shaking voice:
"The arms of the Corti! God be praised!"
"And here--what are these, and what the name on them?"
Mahommed gave him a pair of red morocco half-boots for a child, onwhich, near the tops, a name was worked in silk.
"It is mine, my Lord--my name--'Ugo.'"
He cast himself before the Sultan, and embraced his knees, saying, insnatches as best he could:
"I do not know what my Lord intends--whether he means I am to die orlive--if it be death, I pray him to complete his mercy by sending theseproofs to my mother"--
"Poor Mirza, arise! I prefer to have your face before me."
Directly the Count was reseated, Mahommed continued:
"And you, too, love the Princess Irene? You say you love her more thanI? And you thought I could not endure hearing you tell it? That I wouldsummon black Hassan with his bowstring? With all your opportunities,your seeing and hearing her, as the days multiplied from tens tohundreds, is it for me to teach you she will come to no man except as asacrifice? What great thing have you to offer her? While I--well, bythis sword of Solomon, to-morrow morning I set out to say to her: 'Forthy love, O my full Moon of full Moons, for thy love thou shalt havethe redemption of thy Church.'... And besides, did I not foresee yourpassion? Courtiers stoop low and take pains to win favor; but nocourtier, not even a professional, intending merely to please me, couldhave written of her as you did; and by that sign, O Mirza, I knew youwere in the extremity of passion. Offended? Not so, not so! I sent youto take care of her--fight for her--die, if her need were so great. Ofwhom might I expect such service but a lover? Did I not, the night ofour parting, foretell what would happen?" He paused gazing at the rubyof the ring on his finger.
"See, Mirza! There has not been a waking hour since you left me but Ihave looked at this jewel; and it has kept color faithfully. Often as Ibeheld it, I said: 'Mirza loves her because he cannot help it; yet heis keeping honor with me. Mirza is truth, as God is God. From his handwill I receive her in Constantinople'"--
"O my Lord"--
"Peace, peace! The night wanes, and you have to return. Of what was Ispeaking? Oh, yes"--
"But hear me, my Lord. At the risk of your displeasure I must speak."
"What is it?"
"In her presence my heart is always like to burst, yet, as I am to bejudged in the last great day, I have kept faith with my Lord. Once shethanked me--it was after I offered myself to the lion--O Heaven! hownearly I lost my honor! Oh, the agony of that silence! The anguish ofthat remembrance! I have kept the faith, my Lord. But day by day nowthe will to keep it grows weaker. All that holds me steadfast is myposition in Constantinople. What am I there?"
The Count buried his face in his hands, and through the links in hissurcoat the tremor which shook his body was apparent.
Mahommed waited.
"What am I there? Having come to see the goodness of the Emperor, Imust run daily to betray him. I am a Christian; yet as Judas sold hisMaster, I am under compact to sell my religion. I love a noble woman,yet am pledged to keep her safely, and deliver her to another. O myLord, my Lord! This cannot go on. Shame is a vulture, and it is tearingme--my heart bleeds in its beak. Release me, or give me to death. Ifyou love me, release me."
"Poor Mirza!"
"My Lord, I am not afraid."
Mahommed struck the table violently, and his eyes glittered. "That everone should think I loved a coward! Yet more intolerable, that he whom Ihave called brother should know me so little! Can it be, O Mirza, canit be, you tell me these things imagining them new to me? ... Let mehave done. What we are saying would have become us ten years ago, notnow. It is unmanly. I had a purpose in sending for you.... Your missionin Constantinople ends in the morning at four o'clock. In other words,O Mirza, the condition passes from preparation for war with the_Gabour_ to war. Observe now. You are a fighting man--a knight of skilland courage. In the rencounters to which I am going--the sorties, theassaults, the duels single and in force, the exchanges with all arms,bow, arbalist, guns small and great, the mines and countermines--youcannot stay out. You must fight. Is it not so?"
Corti's head arose, his countenance brightened.
"My Lord, I fear I run forward of your words--forgive me."
"Yes, give ear.... The question now is, whom will you fight--me or the_Gabour?_"
"O my Lord"--
"Be quiet, I say. The issue is not whether you love me less. I preferyou give him your best service."
"How, my Lord?"
"I am not speaking in contempt, but with full knowledge of yoursuperiority with weapons--of the many of mine who must go down beforeyou. And that you may not be under restraint of conscience or arm-tiedin the melee, I not only conclude your mission, but release you fromevery obligation to me."
"Every obligation!"
"I know my words, Emir, yet I will leave nothing uncertain.... You willgo back to the city free of every obligation to me--arm-free,mind-free. Be a Christian, if you like. Send me no more despatchesadvisory of the Emperor"--
"And the Princess Irene, my Lord?"
Mahommed smiled at the Count's eagerness.
"Have patience, Mirza.... Of the moneys had from me, and the propertiesheretofore mine in trust, goods, horses, arms, armor, the galley andits crew, I give them to you without an accounting. You cannot deliverthem to me or dispose of them, except with an explanation which wouldweaken your standing in Blacherne, if not undo you utterly. You haveearned them."
Corti's face reddened.
"With all my Lord's generosity, I cannot accept this favor. Honor"--
"Silence, Emir, and hear me. I have never been careless of your honor.When you set out for Italy, preparatory to the mission atConstantinople, you owed me duty, and there was no shame in theperformance; but now--so have the changes wrought--that which washonorable to Mirza the Emir is scandalous to Count Corti. After fouro'clock you will owe me no duty; neither will you be in my service.From that hour Mirza, my falcon, will cease to be. He will havevanished. Or if ever I know him more, it will be as Count Corti,Christian, stranger, and enemy."
"Enemy--my Lord's enemy? Never!"
The Count protested with extended arms.
"Yes, circumstances will govern. And now the Princess Irene."
Mahommed paused; then, summoning his might of will, and giving itexpression in a look, he laid a forcible hand on the listener'sshoulder.
"Of her now.... I have devised a promotion for you, Emir. Afterto-night we will be rivals."
Corti was speechless--he could only stare.
"By the rose-door of Paradise--the only oath fit for a lover--or, asmore becoming a knight, by this sword of Solomon, Emir, I mean therivalry to be becoming and just. I have an advantage of you. With womenrank and riches are as candles to moths. On the other side youradvantage is double; you are a Christian, and may be in her eyes dayafter day. And not to leave you in mean condition, I give you themoneys and property now in your possession; not as a payment--Godforbid!--but for pride's sake--my pride. Mahommed the Sultan may notdispute with a knight who has only a sword."
"I have estates in Italy."
"They might as well be in the moon. I shall enclose Constantinoplebefore you could arrange with the Jews, and have money enough to buy afeather for your cap. If this were less true, comes then the argument:How can you dispose of the properties in hand, and quiet the gossips inthe _Gabour's_ palace? 'Where are your horses?' they will ask. Whatanswer have you? 'Where your galley?' Answer. 'Where your Mohammedancrew?' Answer."
The Count yielded the debate, saying: "I cannot comprehend my Lord.Such thing was never heard of before."
"Must men be restrained because the thing they wish to do was neverheard of before? Shall I not build a mosque with five minarets becauseother builders stopped with three? ... To the sum of it all now.Christian or Moslem, are you willing to refer our rivalry for the youngwoman to God?"
"My wonder grows with listening to my Lord."
"Nay, this surprises you because it is new. I have had it in mind formonths. It did not come to me easily. It demandedself-denial--something I am unused to.... Here it is--I am willing tocall Heaven in, and let it decide whether she shall be mine oryours--this lily of Paradise whom all men love at sight. Dare you asmuch?"
The soldier spirit arose in the Count.
"Now or then, here or there, as my Lord may appoint. I am ready. He hasbut to name his champion."
"I protest. The duel would be unequal. As well match a heron and ahawk. There is a better way of making our appeal. Listen.... The wallsof Constantinople have never succumbed to attack. Hosts have dashedagainst them, and fled or been lost. It may be so with me; but I willmarch, and in my turn assault them, and thou defending with thy bestmight. If I am beaten, if I retire, be the cause of failure this orthat, we--you and I, O Mirza--will call it a judgment of Heaven, andthe Princess shall be yours; but if I success and enter the city, itshall be a judgment no less, and then"--Mahommed's eyes were full offire--"then"--
"What then, my Lord?"
"Thou shalt see to her safety in the last struggle, and conduct her toSancta Sophia, and there deliver her to me as ordered by God."
Corti was never so agitated. He turned pale and red--he trembledvisibly.
Mahommed asked mockingly: "Is it Mirza I am treating with, or CountCorti? Are Christians so unwilling to trust God?"
"But, my Lord, it is a wager you offer me."
"Call it so."
"And its conditions imply slavery for the Princess. Change them, myLord--allow her to be consulted and have her will, be the judgment thisor that."
Mahommed clinched his hands.
"Am I a brute? Did ever woman lay her head on my breast perforce?"
The Count replied, firmly:
"Such a condition would be against us both alike."
The Sultan struggled with himself a moment.
"Be it so," he rejoined. "The wager is my proposal, and I will gothrough with it. Take the condition, Emir. If I win, she shall come tome of her free will or not at all."
"A wife, my Lord?"
"In my love first, and in my household first--my Sultana."
The animation which then came to the Count was wonderful. He kissedMahommed's hand.
"Now has my Lord outdone himself in generosity. I accept. In no othermode could the issue be made so absolutely a determination of Heaven."
Mahommed arose.
"We are agreed.--The interview is finished.--Ali is waiting for you."
He replaced the cover on the box containing the collar and thehalf-boots.
"I will send these to the Countess your mother; for hereafter you areto be to me Ugo, Count Corti.... My falcon hath cast its jess and hood.Mirza is no more. Farewell Mirza."
Corti was deeply moved. Prostrating himself, he arose, and replied:
"I go hence more my Lord's lover than ever. Death to the stranger whoin my presence takes his name in vain."
As he was retiring, Mahommed spoke again:
"A word, Count.... In what we are going to, the comfort and safety ofthe Princess Irene may require you to communicate with me. You haveready wit for such emergencies. Leave me a suggestion."
Corti reflected an instant.
"The signal must proceed from me," he said. "My Lord will pitch histent in sight"--
"By Solomon, and this his sword, yes! Every _Gabour_ who dares lookover the wall shall see it while there is a hill abiding."
The Count bowed.
"I know my Lord, and give him this--God helping me, I will make myselfnotorious to the besiegers as he will be to the besieged. If at anytime he sees my banderole, or if it be reported to him, let him look ifmy shield be black; if so, he shall come himself with a shield thecolor of mine, and place himself in my view. My Lord knows I make myown arrows. If I shoot one black feathered, he must pick it up. Theferrule will be of hollow lead covering a bit of scrip."
"Once more, Count Corti, the issue is with God. Good night."
Traversing the passage outside the door, the Count met the Prince ofIndia.
"An hour ago I would have entitled you Emir: but now"--the Princesmiled while speaking--"I have stayed to thank Count Corti for hiskindness to my black friend Nilo."
"Your servant?"
"My friend and ally--Nilo the King.... If the Count desires to add tothe obligation, he will send the royal person to me with Ali when hereturns to-night."
"I will send him."
"Thanks, Count Corti."
The latter lingered, gazing into the large eyes and ruddy face,expecting at least an inquiry after Lael. He received merely a bow, andthe words: "We will meet again."
Night was yet over the city, when Ali, having landed the Count, drewout of the gate with Nilo. The gladness of the King at being restoredto his master can be easily fancied.