THE STORY OF THE HEWN OFF HAND.
I was born in Constantinople; my father was a Dragoman of the OttomanPorte, and carried on, besides, a tolerably lucrative trade inessences and silk goods. He gave me a good education, since he partlysuperintended it himself, and partly had me instructed by one of ourpriests. At first, he intended that I should one day take charge ofhis business: but since I displayed greater capacity than he expected,with the advice of his friends, he resolved that I should studymedicine; for a physician, if he only knows more than a common quack,can make his fortune in Constantinople.
Many Frenchmen were in the habit of coming to our house, and one ofthem prevailed upon my father to let me go to the city of Paris, inhis fatherland, where one could learn the profession gratuitously, andwith the best advantages: he himself would take me with him, at hisown expense, when he returned. My father, who in his youth had alsobeen a traveller, consented, and the Frenchman told me to hold myselfin readiness in three months. I was beside myself with delight to seeforeign lands, and could not wait for the moment in which we shouldembark. At last the stranger had finished his business, and was readyto start.
On the evening preceding our voyage, my father conducted me into hissleeping apartment; there I saw fine garments and weapons lying on thetable; but what most attracted my eye was a large pile of gold, for Ihad never before seen so much together. My father embraced me, andsaid,
"See, my son, I have provided thee with garments for thy journey.These weapons are thine; they are those which thy grandfather hungupon me, when I went forth into foreign lands. I know thou canst wieldthem; but use them not, unless thou art attacked; then, however, layon with right good-will. My wealth is not great; see! I have dividedit into three parts: one is thine; one shall be for my support, andspare money in case of necessity; the third shall be sacred anduntouched by me, it may serve thee in the hour of need." Thus spoke myold father, while tears hung in his eyes, perhaps from a presentiment,for I have never seen him since.
Our voyage was favorable; we soon reached the land of the Franks, andsix days' journey brought us to the large city, Paris. Here my Frenchfriend hired me a room, and advised me to be prudent in spending mymoney, which amounted to two thousand thalers. In this city I livedthree years, and learned all that a well-educated physician shouldknow. I would be speaking falsely, however, if I said that I was veryhappy, for the customs of the people pleased me not; moreover, I hadbut few good friends among them, but these were young men ofnobility.
The longing after my native land at length became irresistible; duringthe whole time I had heard nothing from my father, and I thereforeseized a favorable opportunity to return home. There was going anembassy from France to the Supreme Porte: I agreed to join the trainof the ambassador as surgeon, and soon arrived once more at Stamboul.
My father's dwelling, however, I found closed, and the neighbors,astonished at seeing me, said that my father had been dead for twomonths. The priest, who had instructed me in youth, brought me thekey. Alone and forsaken, I entered the desolate house. I found all asmy father had left it; but the gold which he promised to leave to me,was missing. I inquired of the priest respecting it, and he bowed andsaid:
"Your father died like a holy man, for he left his gold to theChurch!"
This was incomprehensible to me; nevertheless, what could I do? I hadno proofs against the priest, and could only congratulate myself thathe had not also looked upon the house, and wares of my father, in thelight of a legacy. This was the first misfortune that met me; but afterthis came one upon another. My reputation as a physician would notextend itself, because I was ashamed to play the quack; above all, Imissed the recommendation of my father, who had introduced me to therichest and most respectable families; but now they thought no more ofthe poor Zaleukos. Moreover, the wares of my father found no sale, forhis customers had been scattered at his death, and new ones came onlyafter a long time. One day, as I was reflecting sorrowfully upon mysituation, it occurred to me that in France I had often seen countrymenof mine, who travelled through the land, and exposed their goods at themarket-places of the cities: I recollected that people gladly purchasedof them, because they came from foreign lands; and that by such atrade, one could make a hundred-fold. My resolution was forthwithtaken; I sold my paternal dwelling, gave a portion of the moneyobtained thereby to a tried friend to preserve for me, and with theremainder purchased such articles as were rare in France,--shawls,silken goods, ointments, and oils; for these I hired a place upon avessel, and thus began my second voyage to France. It appeared as iffortune became favorable to me, the moment I had the Straits of theDardanelles upon my back. Our voyage was short and prosperous. Itravelled through the cities of France, large and small, and found, inall, ready purchasers for my goods. My friend in Stamboul continuallysent me fresh supplies, and I became richer from day to day. At lastwhen I had husbanded so well, that I believed myself able to venture onsome more extensive undertaking, I went with my wares into Italy. Imust, however, mention something that brought me in no little money; Icalled my profession also to my assistance. As soon as I arrived in acity I announced, by means of bills, that a Grecian physician wasthere, who had already cured many; and, truly, my balsam, and mymedicines, had brought me in many a zechin.
Thus at last I reached the city of Florence, in Italy. I proposed tomyself to remain longer than usual in this place, partly because itpleased me so well, partly, moreover, that I might recover from thefatigues of my journey. I hired myself a shop in the quarter of thecity called St. Croce, and in a tavern not far therefrom, took acouple of fine rooms which led out upon a balcony. Immediately I hadmy bills carried around, which announced me as a physician andmerchant. I had no sooner opened my shop than buyers streamed in uponme, and although I asked a tolerably high price, still I sold morethan others, because I was attentive and friendly to my customers.
Well satisfied, I had spent four days in Florence, when one evening,after I had shut my shop, and according to custom was examining mystock of ointment-boxes, I found, in one of the smaller ones, a letterwhich I did not remember to have put in. I opened it and found thereinan invitation to repair that night, punctually at twelve, to thebridge called the Ponte Vecchio. For some time I reflected upon this,as to who it could be that had thus invited me; as, however, I knewnot a soul in Florence, I thought, as had often happened already, thatone wished to lead me privately to some sick person. Accordingly Iresolved to go; nevertheless, as a precautionary measure, I put onthe sabre which my father had given me. As it was fast approachingmidnight, I set out upon my way, and soon arrived at the PonteVecchio; I found the bridge forsaken and desolate, and resolved towait until it should appear who had addressed me.
It was a cold night; the moon shone clear as I looked down upon thewaters of the Arno, which sparkled in her light. On the church of thecity the twelfth hour was sounding, when I looked up, and before mestood a tall man, entirely covered with a red cloak, a corner of whichhe held before his face. At this sudden apparition I was at firstsomewhat startled, but I soon recovered myself and said--
"If you have summoned me hither, tell me, what is your pleasure?"
The Red-mantle turned, and solemnly ejaculated, "Follow!"
My mind was nevertheless somewhat uneasy at the idea of going alonewith this Unknown; I stood still and said, "Not so, dear sir; you willfirst tell me whither; moreover, you may show me your face a little,that I may see whether you have good intentions towards me."
The Stranger, however, appeared not to be concerned thereat. "If thouwishest it not, Zaleukos, then remain!" answered he, moving away. Atthis my anger burned.
"Think you," I cried, "that I will suffer a man to play the fool withme, and wait here this cold night for nothing?" In three bounds Ireached him; crying still louder, I seized him by the cloak, layingthe other hand upon my sabre; but the mantle remained in my hand, andthe Unknown vanished around the nearest corner. My anger graduallycooled; I still had the cloak, and this should furnish the
key to thisstrange adventure. I put it on, and moved towards home. Before I hadtaken a hundred steps, somebody passed very near, and whispered in theFrench tongue, "Observe, Count, to-night, we can do nothing." Before Icould look around, this somebody had passed, and I saw only a shadowhovering near the houses. That this exclamation was addressed to themantle, and not to me, I plainly perceived; nevertheless, this threwno light upon the matter. Next morning I considered what was best tobe done. At first I thought of having proclamation made respectingthe cloak, that I had found it; but in that case the Unknown couldsend for it by a third person, and I would have no explanation of thematter. While thus meditating I took a nearer view of the garment. Itwas of heavy Genoese velvet, of dark red color, bordered with fur fromAstrachan, and richly embroidered with gold. The gorgeousness of thecloak suggested to me a plan, which I resolved to put in execution. Icarried it to my shop and offered it for sale, taking care, however,to set so high a price upon it, that I would be certain to find nopurchaser. My object in this was to fix my eye keenly upon every onewho should come to inquire after it; for the figure of the Unknown,which, after the loss of the mantle, had been exposed to me distinctlythough transiently, I could recognise out of thousands. Many merchantscame after the cloak, the extraordinary beauty of which drew all eyesupon it; but none bore the slightest resemblance to the Unknown, nonewould give for it the high price of two hundred zechins. It wassurprising to me, that when I asked one and another whether there wasa similar mantle in Florence, all answered in the negative, andprotested that they had never seen such costly and elegantworkmanship.
It was just becoming evening, when at last there came a young man whohad often been in there, and had also that very day bid high for themantle; he threw upon the table a bag of zechins, exclaiming--
"By Heaven! Zaleukos, I must have your mantle, should I be made abeggar by it." Immediately he began to count out his gold pieces. Iwas in a great dilemma; I had exposed the mantle, in order thereby toget a sight of my unknown friend, and now came a young simpleton togive the unheard-of price. Nevertheless, what remained for me? Icomplied, for on the other hand the reflection consoled me, that mynight adventure would be so well rewarded. The young man put on thecloak and departed; he turned, however, upon the threshold, while heloosened a paper which was attached to the collar, and threw ittowards me, saying, "Here, Zaleukos, hangs something, that does notproperly belong to my purchase." Indifferently, I received the note;but lo! these were the contents:--
"This night, at the hour thou knowest, bring the mantle to the PonteVecchio; four hundred zechins await thee!"
I stood as one thunder-struck: thus had I trifled with fortune, andentirely missed my aim. Nevertheless, I reflected not long; catchingup the two hundred zechins, I bounded to the side of the young man andsaid, "Take your zechins again, my good friend, and leave me thecloak; I cannot possibly part with it."
At first he treated the thing as a jest, but when he saw it wasearnest, he fell in a passion at my presumption, and called me a fool;and thus at last we came to blows. I was fortunate enough to seize themantle in the scuffle, and was already making off with it, when theyoung man called the police to his assistance, and had both of uscarried before a court of justice. The magistrate was much astonishedat the accusation, and adjudged the cloak to my opponent. I however,offered the young man twenty, fifty, eighty, at last a hundred,zechins, in addition to his two hundred, if he would surrender it tome. What my entreaties could not accomplish, my gold did. He took mygood zechins, while I went off in triumph with the mantle, obliged tobe satisfied with being taken for a madman by every one in Florence.Nevertheless, the opinion of the people was a matter of indifferenceto me, for I knew better than they, that I would still gain by thebargain.
With impatience I awaited the night; at the same hour as the precedingday, I proceeded to the Ponte Vecchio, the mantle under my arm. Withthe last stroke of the clock, came the figure out of darkness to myside: beyond a doubt it was the man of the night before.
"Hast thou the cloak?" I was asked.
"Yes, sir," I replied, "but it cost me a hundred zechins cash."
"I know it," rejoined he; "look, here are four hundred." He moved withme to the broad railing of the bridge and counted out the gold pieces;brightly they glimmered in the moonshine, their lustre delighted myheart--ah! it did not foresee that this was to be its last joy. I putthe money in my pocket, and then wished to get a good view of thegenerous stranger, but he had a mask before his face, through whichtwo dark eyes frightfully beamed upon me.
"I thank you, sir, for your kindness," said I to him; "what furtherdesire you of me? I told you before, however, that it must be nothingevil."
"Unnecessary trouble," answered he, throwing the cloak over hisshoulders; "I needed your assistance as a physician, nevertheless notfor a living, but for a dead person."
"How can that be?" exclaimed I in amazement.
"I came with my sister from a distant land," rejoined he, at the sametime motioning me to follow him, "and took up my abode with a friendof our family. A sudden disease carried off my sister yesterday, andour relations wished to bury her this morning. According to an oldusage of our family, however, all are to repose in the sepulchre ofour fathers; many who have died in foreign lands, nevertheless sleepthere embalmed. To my relations now I grant the body, but to my fathermust I bring at least the head of his daughter, that he may see itonce again."
In this custom of severing the head from near relatives there was tome, indeed, something awful; nevertheless, I ventured to say nothingagainst it, through fear of offending the Unknown. I told him,therefore, that I was well acquainted with the art of embalming thedead, and asked him to lead me to the body. Notwithstanding, I couldnot keep myself from inquiring why all this must be done so secretlyin the night. He answered me that his relations, who considered hispurpose inhuman, would prevent him from accomplishing it by day; butonly let the head once be cut off, and they could say little moreabout it: he could, indeed, have brought the head to me, but a naturalfeeling prevented him from cutting it off himself.
These words brought us to a large splendid house; my companion pointedit out to me as the termination of our nocturnal walk. We passed theprincipal door, and entering a small gate, which the strangercarefully closed after him, ascended, in the dark, a narrow, windingstaircase. This brought us to a dimly-lighted corridor, from which weentered an apartment; a lamp, suspended from the ceiling, shed itsbrilliant rays around.
In this chamber stood a bed, on which lay the corpse; the Unknownturned away his face, as if wishing to conceal his tears. He beckonedme to the bed, and bidding me set about my business speedily yetcarefully, went out by the door.
I seized my knives, which, as a physician, I constantly carried withme, and approached the bed. Only the head of the corpse was visible,but that was so beautiful that the deepest compassion involuntarilycame over me. In long braids the dark hair hung down; the face waspale, the eyes closed. At first, I made an incision in the skin,according to the practice of surgeons when they remove a limb. Then Itook my sharpest knife and cut entirely through the throat. But,horror! the dead opened her eyes--shut them again--and in a deep sighseemed now, for the first time, to breathe forth her life! Straightwaya stream of hot blood sprang forth from the wound. I was convincedthat I had killed the poor girl; for that she was dead there could beno doubt--from such a wound there was no chance of recovering. I stoodsome moments in anxious wo, thinking on what had happened. Had theRed-mantle deceived me, or was his sister, perhaps, only apparentlydead? The latter appeared to me more probable. Yet I dared not tellthe brother of the deceased, that, perhaps, a less rash blow wouldhave aroused, without having killed her; therefore I began to severthe head entirely--but once again the dying one groaned, stretchedherself out in a convulsion of pain, and breathed her last. Thenterror overpowered me, and I rushed shivering out of the apartment.
But outside in the corridor it was dark, for the lamp had died out; notrace of my companion wa
s perceptible, and I was obliged to move alongby the wall, at hazard in the dark, in order to reach thewinding-stairs. I found them at last, and descended, half falling,half gliding. There was no one below; the door was only latched, and Ibreathed more freely when I was in the street, out of the uneasyatmosphere of the house. Spurred on by fear, I ran to my dwelling, andburied myself in the pillow of my bed, in order to forget the horridcrime I had committed. But sleep fled my eyelids, and soon morningadmonished me again to collect myself. It seemed probable to me, thatthe man who had led me to this villainous deed, as it now appeared tome, would not denounce me. I immediately resolved to attend to mybusiness in my shop, and to put on as careless an air as possible.But, alas! a new misfortune, which I now for the first time observed,augmented my sorrow. My cap and girdle, as also my knives, weremissing; and I knew not whether they had been left in the chamber ofthe dead, or lost during my flight. Alas! the former seemed moreprobable, and they could discover in me the murderer.
I opened my shop at the usual time; a neighbor stepped in, as was hiscustom, being a communicative man. "Ah! what say you to the horriddeed," he cried, "that was committed last night?" I started as if Iknew nothing. "How! know you not that with which the whole city isfilled? Know you not that last night, the fairest flower in Florence,Bianca, the daughter of the Governor, was murdered? Ah! only yesterdayI saw her walking happily through the streets with her bridegroom, forto-day she would have had her nuptial festival!"
Every word of my neighbor was a dagger to my heart; and how oftenreturned my torments! for each of my customers told me the story, onemore frightfully than another; yet not one could tell it half sohorribly as it had seemed to me. About mid-day, an officer of justiceunexpectedly walked into my shop, and asked me to clear it of thebystanders.
"Signor Zaleukos," said he, showing me the articles I had lost,"belong these things to you?" I reflected whether I should notentirely disown them; but when I saw through the half-opened door, mylandlord and several acquaintances, who could readily testify againstme, I determined not to make the matter worse by a falsehood, andacknowledged the articles exhibited as my own. The officer told me tofollow him, and conducted me to a spacious building, which I soonrecognised as the prison. Then, a little farther on, he showed me intoan apartment.
My situation was terrible, as I reflected on it in my solitude. Thethought of having committed a murder, even against my wish, returnedagain and again. Moreover, I could not conceal from myself that theglance of the gold had dazzled my senses; otherwise I would not havefallen so blindly into the snare.
Two hours after my arrest, I was led from my chamber, and afterdescending several flights of stairs, entered a spacious saloon.Around a long table hung with black, were seated twelve men, mostlygray with age. Along the side of the room, benches were arranged, onwhich were seated the first people of Florence. In the gallery, whichwas built quite high, stood the spectators, closely crowded together.As soon as I reached the black table, a man with a gloomy, sorrowfulair arose--it was the Governor. He told the audience that, as afather, he could not judge impartially in this matter, and that he,for this occasion, would surrender his seat to the oldest of thesenators. The latter was a gray-headed man, of at least ninety years.He arose, stooping beneath the weight of age; his temples were coveredwith thin white hair, but his eyes still burned brightly, and hisvoice was strong and steady. He began by asking me whether I confessedthe murder. I entreated his attention, and with dauntless, distinctvoice, related what I had done and all that I knew. I observed thatthe Governor during my recital turned first pale, then red, and when Iconcluded, became furious. "How, wretch!" he cried out to me,"wishest thou thus to lay upon another, the crime thy avarice hascommitted?"
The Senator rebuked him for his interruption, after having of his ownfree will resigned his right; moreover, that it was not so clear, thatI had done the deed through avarice, for according to his owntestimony, nothing had been taken from the corpse. Yes, he went stillfurther; he told the Governor that he must give an account of hisdaughter's early life, for in this way only could one conclude whetherI had told the truth or not. Immediately he closed the court for thatday, for the purpose, as he said, of consulting the papers of thedeceased, which the Governor was to give him. I was carried back to myprison, where I passed a sorrowful day, constantly occupied with theardent hope, that they would in some way discover the connectionbetween the deceased and the Red-mantle.
Full of hope, I proceeded the next day to the justice-hall. Severalletters lay upon the table; the old Senator asked whether they were ofmy writing. I looked at them, and found that they were by the samehand as both the letters that I had received. This I disclosed to theSenator; but he seemed to give but little weight to it, answering thatI must have written both, for the name subscribed was unquestionably aZ, the initial of my name. The letters, however, contained menacesagainst the deceased, and warnings against the marriage which she wason the point of consummating. The Governor seemed to have impartedsomething strange and untrue, with respect to my person; for I wastreated this day with more suspicion and severity. For myjustification, I appealed to the papers, which would be found in myroom, but I was informed that search had been made and nothing found.Thus, at the close of the court, vanished all my hope; and when, onthe third day, I was led again to the hall, the judgment was readaloud, that I was convicted of a premeditated murder, and sentenced todeath. To such extremity had I come; forsaken by all that was dear tome on earth, far from my native land, innocent and in the bloom of myyears, I was to die by the axe!
On the evening of this terrible day which had decided my fate, I wasseated in my lonely dungeon, my hopes past, my thoughts seriouslyturned upon death, when the door of my prison opened, and a manentered who regarded me long in silence.
"Do I see you again, in this situation, Zaleukos?" he began. By thedim light of my lamp I had not recognised him, but the sound of hisvoice awoke within me old recollections. It was Valetty, one of thefew friends I had made during my studies at Paris. He said that he hadcasually come to Florence, where his father, a distinguished man,resided; he had heard of my story, and come to see me once more, toinquire with his own lips, how I could have been guilty of such anawful crime. I told him the whole history: he seemed lost in wonder,and conjured me to tell him, my only friend, all the truth, and not todepart with a lie upon my tongue. I swore to him with the most solemnoath, that I had spoken the truth; and that no other guilt could beattached to me, than that, having been blinded by the glance of thegold, I had not seen the improbability of the Stranger's story. "Thendid you not know Bianca?" asked he. I assured him that I had neverseen her. Valetty thereupon told me that there was a deep mystery inthe matter; that the Governor in great haste had urged mycondemnation, and that a report was current among the people, that Ihad known Bianca for a long time, and had murdered her out of revengefor her intended marriage with another. I informed him that all thiswas probably true of the Red-mantle, but that I could not prove hisparticipation in the deed. Valetty embraced me, weeping, and promisedme to do all that he could; to save my life, if nothing more. I hadnot much hope; nevertheless, I knew that my friend was a wise man, andwell acquainted with the laws, and that he would do all in his powerto preserve me.
Two long days was I in suspense; at length Valetty appeared. "I bringconsolation, though even that is attended with sorrow. You shall liveand be free, but with the loss of a hand!"
Overjoyed, I thanked my friend for my life. He told me that theGovernor had been inexorable, and would not once look into the matter:that at length, however, rather than appear unjust, he had agreed, ifa similar case could be found in the annals of Florentine history,that my penalty should be regulated by the punishment that was theninflicted. He and his father had searched, day and night, in the oldbooks, and had at length found a case similar in every respect tomine; the sentence there ran thus:--
"He shall have his left hand cut off; his goods shall be confiscated,and he himself banished forever
!"
Such now was my sentence, also, and I was to prepare for the painfulhour that awaited me. I will not bring before your eyes the frightfulmoment, in which, at the open market-place, I laid my hand upon theblock; in which my own blood in thick streams flowed over me!
Valetty took me to his house until I had recovered, and thengenerously supplied me with money for my journey, for all that I hadso laboriously acquired was confiscated to Justice. I went fromFlorence to Sicily, and thence, by the first ship I could find, toConstantinople. My hopes, which rested on the sum of money I had leftwith my friend, were not disappointed. I proposed that I should livewith him--how astonished was I, when he asked why I occupied not myown house! He told me that a strange man had, in my name, bought ahouse in the quarter of the Greeks, and told the neighbors that Iwould soon, myself, return. I immediately proceeded to it with myfriend, and was joyfully received by all my old acquaintances. An agedmerchant handed me a letter which the man who purchased for me hadleft. I read:--
"Zaleukos! two hands stand ready to work unceasingly, that thou mayestnot feel the loss of one. That house which thou seest and all thereinare thine, and every year shalt thou receive so much, that thou shaltbe among the rich of thy nation. Mayest thou forgive one who is moreunhappy than thyself!"
I could guess who was the writer, and the merchant told me, in answerto my inquiry that it was a man covered with a red cloak, whom he hadtaken for a Frenchman. I knew enough to convince me that the Unknownwas not entirely devoid of generous feeling. In my new house I foundall arranged in the best style; a shop, moreover, full of wares, finerthan any I had ever had. Ten years have elapsed since then; more incompliance with ancient custom, than because it is necessary, do Icontinue to travel in foreign lands for purposes of trade, but theland which was so fatal to me I have never seen since. Every year Ireceive a thousand pieces of gold; but although it rejoices me to knowthat this Unfortunate is so noble, still can his money never remove wofrom my soul, for there lives forever the heart-rending image of themurdered Bianca!
* * * * *
Thus ended the story of Zaleukos, the Grecian merchant. With greatinterest had the others listened; the stranger, in particular, seemedto be wrapt up in it: more than once he had drawn a deep sigh, andMuley looked as if he had had tears in his eyes. No one spoke for sometime after the recital.
"And hate you not the Unknown, who so basely cost you a noble memberof your body, and even put your life in danger?" inquired Selim.
"Perhaps there were hours at first," answered the Greek, "in which myheart accused him before God, of having brought this misfortune uponme, and embittered my life; but I found consolation in the religion ofmy fathers, which commanded me to love my enemies. Moreover, heprobably is more unhappy than myself."
"You are a noble man!" exclaimed Selim, cordially pressing the hand ofthe Greek.
The leader of the escort, however, here interrupted theirconversation. He came with a troubled air into the tent, and told themthat they could not give themselves up to repose, for this was theplace in which Caravans were usually attacked, and his guards imaginedthey had seen several horsemen in the distance.
The merchants were confounded at this intelligence. Selim, thestranger, however, expressed wonder at their alarm, saying they wereso well escorted they need not fear a troop of Arabian robbers.
"Yes, sir," rejoined to him the leader of the guard; "were he only acommon outlaw, we could compose ourselves to rest without anxiety; butfor some time back, the frightful Orbasan has shown himself again, andit is well to be upon our guard."
The stranger inquired who this Orbasan was, and Achmet, the oldmerchant, answered him:--
"Various rumors are current among the people with respect to thiswonderful man. Some hold him to be a supernatural being, because, withonly five or six men, he has frequently fallen upon a wholeencampment; others regard him as a bold Frenchman, whom misfortune hasdriven into this region: out of all this, however, thus much alone iscertain, that he is an abandoned robber and highwayman."
"That can you not prove," answered Lezah, one of the merchants."Robber as he is, he is still a noble man, and such has he shownhimself to my brother, as I can relate to you. He has formed hiswhole band of well-disciplined men, and as long as he marches throughthe desert, no other band ventures to show itself. Moreover, he robsnot as others, but only exacts a tribute from the caravans; whoeverwillingly pays this, proceeds without further danger, for Orbasan islord of the wilderness!"
Thus did the travellers converse together in the tent; the guards,however, who were stationed around the resting-place, began to becomeuneasy. A tolerably large band of armed horsemen showed themselves atthe distance of half a league. They appeared to be riding straight tothe encampment; one of the guard came into the tent, to inform themthat they would probably be attacked.
The merchants consulted among themselves as to what they should do,whether to march against them, or await the attack. Achmet and the twoelder merchants inclined to the latter course; the fiery Muley,however, and Zaleukos desired the former, and summoned the stranger totheir assistance. He, however, quietly drew forth from his girdle alittle blue cloth spangled with red stars, bound it upon a lance,and commanded one of the slaves to plant it in front of the tent: hewould venture his life upon it, he said, that the horsemen, when theysaw this signal, would quietly march back again. Muley trusted not theresult; still the slave put out the lance in front of the tent.Meanwhile all in the camp had seized their weapons, and were lookingupon the horsemen in eager expectation. The latter, however, appearedto have espied the signal; they suddenly swerved from their directcourse towards the encampment, and, in a large circle, moved off tothe side.
Struck with wonder, the travellers stood some moments, gazingalternately at the horsemen and the stranger. The latter stood infront of the tent quite indifferently, as though nothing had happened,looking upon the plain before him. At last Muley broke the silence.
"Who art thou, mighty stranger," he exclaimed, "that restrainest witha glance the wild hordes of the desert?"
"You rate my art higher than it deserves," answered Selim Baruch. "Iobserved this signal when I fled from captivity; what it means, I knownot--only this much I know, that whoever travels with this sign, isunder great protection."
The merchants thanked the stranger, and called him their preserver;indeed, the number of the robbers was so great, that the Caravan couldnot, probably, for any length of time, have offered an effectualresistance.
With lighter hearts they now gave themselves to sleep; and when thesun began to sink, and the evening wind to pass over the sand-plain,they struck their tents, and marched on. The next day they haltedsafely, only one day's journey from the entrance of the desert. Whenthe travellers had once more collected in the large tent, Lezah, themerchant, took up the discourse.
"I told you, yesterday, that the dreaded Orbasan was a noble man;permit me to prove it to you, to-day, by the relation of my brother'sadventure. My father was Cadi of Acara. He had three children; I wasthe eldest, my brother and sister being much younger than myself. WhenI was twenty years old, a brother of my father took me under hisprotection; he made me heir to his property, on condition that Ishould remain with him until his death. He however had reached an oldage, so that before two years I returned to my native land, havingknown nothing, before, of the misfortune which had meanwhile fallenupon my family, and how Allah had turned it to advantage."