CHAPTER IV.
The company which Kabilovitsch and the children had joined was haltedat the edge of the great camp. Other peasants and non-combatantscrowded in from their desolated homes; but neither Milosch's face, norHelena's, nor yet little Michael's, were among those they anxiouslyscanned. The command of King Vladislaus secured for the three favoredrefugees every comfort which the rude soldiers could furnish. The boyand girl were soon asleep by a fire, while the old man lay closebeside them, that no one could approach without arousing him. He,however, could not sleep. On the one side was the noisy revelry ofthe victors; on the other, the darkness of the plain. Here and therewere groups of soldiers, and beyond them an occasional gleam of thespear-head of some sentinel, who, saluting his comrade, turned at theend of his beat.
The dusky form of a huge man attracted Kabilovitsch's eye. As thestranger drew near, his long bear-skin cape terminating above in arough and ungraceful hood, and his long pointed shoes with blocks ofwood for their soles, indicated that he was some peasant. He seemed tobe wandering about with no other aim than to keep himself warm. YetKabilovitsch noted that he lingered as he passed by the variousgroups, as if to scan the faces of his fellow-sufferers.
"Heaven grant that all his kids be safe to-night!" muttered the oldman.
As the walking figure passed across the line of a fagot fire, herevealed a splendid form; too straight for one accustomed to bend athis daily toil.
"A mountaineer? a hunter?" thought Kabilovitsch, "for thefield-tillers are all round of shoulder, and bow-backed. But no! Histread is too firm and heavy for that sort of life. One's limbs arespringy, agile, who climbs the crags. A hunter will use the toes morein stepping."
Kabilovitsch's curiosity could not keep his eyes from growing heavywith the cold and the flicker of the fire light, when they were forcedwide open again by the approach of the stranger. The old man felt,rather than saw, that he was being closely studied from behind thefolds of the hood which the wanderer drew close over his face, tokeep out the cutting wind which swept in gusts down from themountains. He passed very near, and was talking to himself, as is aptto be the custom of men who lead lonely lives.
"It is bitter cold," he said, with chattering teeth, "bitter cold, bythe beard of Moses!"
The last words startled Kabilovitsch so that he gave a sudden motion.The stranger noticed it and paused. Gazing intently upon the old man,who had now assumed a sitting posture, he addressed him--
"By the beard of Moses! it's an awful night, neighbor."
"Ay, by the beard of Moses! it is; and one could wear the beard ofAaron, too, with comfort--Aaron's beard was longer than Moses' beard;is not that what the priest says?" said Kabilovitsch, veiling hisexcitement under forced indifference of manner, at the same timemaking room for the visitor, who, without ceremony stretched himselfby his side, bringing his face close to that of the old man, andglaring into it. Kabilovitsch returned his gaze with equal sharpness.
"What know you of the beard of Moses?" said the stranger. "Was it grayor black?"
"Black," said Kabilovitsch, studying the other's face with suspicionand surprise. "Black as an Albanian thunder cloud, and his eye was asundimmed by age as that of the eagle that flies over the lake ofOchrida."[14]
"You speak well," replied the stranger, pushing back his hood.
His face was massive and strong. No peasant was he, but one born tocommand and accustomed to it.
"You are----Drakul?" asked the man.
"No."
"Harion?"
"No."
"Kabilovitsch?"
"Ay, and you?"
"Castriot."
Kabilovitsch sprang to his feet.
"Lie down! Lie down! Let me share your blanket," said the visitor."This air is too crisp and resonant for us to speak aloud in it; andwaking ears at night-time are over quick to hear what does not concernthem. We can muffle our speech beneath the blanket."
Kabilovitsch felt the hesitation of reverence in assuming a proximityof such intimacy with his guest; but also felt the authority of thecommand and the wisdom of the precaution. He obeyed.
"I feared that I should find no one who recognized our password. Imust see General Hunyades to-night; yet must not approach hisquarters. Can you get to his tent?"
"Readily," said Kabilovitsch. "During the day my little lass yonderwon the attention of King Vladislaus, and he gave me the password ofthe camp to-night for her safety. '_Christus natus est_'."
"You must go to him at once, and say that I would see him here. Youwill trust me to keep guard over these two kids while you are away? Iwill not wolf them."
"Heaven grant that you may shepherd all Albania,"--and the old man wasoff.
"I knew that the prodigal Prince George would come back some day,"said he to himself. "Many a year have I kept my watch in the Pass, andamong the mountains of Albania. And many a service have I rendered asa simple goatherd which I could not have done had I worn my country'scolors anywhere except in my heart. And, 'by the beard of Moses!'During some weeks now I have carried many a message, had some fightingand hard scratching which I did not understand, except that it was 'bythe beard of Moses!' And now Moses has come; refused at last to becalled the son of Pharaoh's daughter, and will free his people. Godwill it! And George Castriot has lain under my blanket! I will hangthat blanket in the church at Croia as an offering to the HolyVirgin.--But no, it belongs to the trooper. Heaven keep me discreet,or, for the joy of it, I cannot do my errand safely. I'll draw my hoodclose, lest the moon yonder should guess my secret."
Kabilovitsch was challenged at every turn as he wound between thehundreds of camp-fires and tents; but the magic words, "Christus natusest," opened the way.
A circle of splendid tents told him he drew near to headquarters. Inthe midst of them blazed an immense fire. Camp-tables, gleaming withtankards and goblets of silver, were ranged beneath gorgeous canopiesof flaxen canvas, which were lined with blue and purple tapestries. Amultitude of gaily dressed servitors thronged into and out of them.Here was the royal splendor of Hungary and Poland; there the pavilionof the Despot of Servia; there the glittering cross of Rome; and, atthe extreme end of this extemporized array of palatial and courtlypride, the more modest, but still rich, banner of the White Knight.
Kabilovitsch approached the latter.
"Your errand, man?" said the guard, holding his spear across theflapping doorway of the tent.
"Christus natus est!" was the response.
"That will do elsewhere, but not here," rejoined the guard.
"My business is solely with General Hunyades," said Kabilovitsch.
"It cannot be," said the spearman. "He has no business with any onebut himself. If you are a shepherd of Bethlehem come to adore theInfant Jesu--as you look to be--you must wait until the morning."
"My message is as important to him as that of the angels on thatblessed night," said the goatherd, making a deep obeisance and lookingup to heaven as if in prayer, as he spoke.
"Then proclaim your message, old crook-staff! we have had glad tidingsto-day, but can endure to hear more," said the guard, pushing himaway.
"No ear on earth shall hear mine but the general's," cried the oldman, raising his voice: "No! by the beard of Moses! it shall not."
"A strange swear that, old leather-skin! Did you keep your sheep inMidian, where Moses did, that you know he had a beard. Your cloak isragged enough to have belonged to father Jethro; and I warrant it isas full of vermin as were those of the Egyptians after the plaguethat Moses sent on them. But the ten plagues take you! Get away!"
"No, by the beard of Moses!" shouted Kabilovitsch.
"Let him pass!" said a voice from deep within the tent.
"Let him pass!" said another nearer.
"Let him pass!" repeated one just inside the outer curtain.
The goatherd passed between a line of sentinels, closely watched byeach. The tent was a double one, composing a room or pavilion,enclosed by the great tent; so that there was a large space arou
nd theprivate apartment of the general, allowing the sentinels to patrolentirely about it without passing into the outer air.
At the entrance of the inner tent Hunyades appeared. He was of lightbuild but compactly knit, with ample forehead and generous, butscarred face; which, however, was more significantly seamed with thelines that denote thought and courage. He was wrapped in a loose robeof costly furs. He waved his hand for Kabilovitsch to enter, and badethe guards retire. Throwing himself on a plain soldier's couch, hedrew close to it a camp seat, and motioned his visitor to sit.
"You have news from the Albanians, by the beard of Moses?" saidHunyades inquiringly.
A moment or two sufficed for the delivery of Kabilovitsch's message.
"Ho, guard! when this old man goes, let no one enter until he comesback; then admit him without the pass, instantly," said Hunyades,springing from the couch. "Now, old man, give me your bear skin--nowyour shoes--your cap. Here, wrap yourself in mine. You need not shrinkfrom occupying Hunyades' skin for a while, since you have had to-nighta more princely soldier under your blanket. Did you say to the north?On the edge of the camp? A boy and a girl by the fire; and he?"
The disguised general passed out.
FOOTNOTE:
[14] A lake in Albania.
The Captain of the Janizaries Page 4