The Prince of India; Or, Why Constantinople Fell — Volume 02

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER XXI

  SERGIUS LEARNS A NEW LESSON

  Syama, always thoughtful, took care of the treasure brought from Plati,and standing by the door watched his master through the night,wondering what the outcome of his agitation would be.

  It were useless attempting to describe how the gloomy soul of the Jewexercised itself. His now ungovernable passions ran riot within him. Hewho had seen so much of life, who had made history as the loomsmen ofBokhara make carpets, who dealt with kings and kingdoms, and thesuperlatives of every kind canonized in the human imagination--he to beso demeaned! Yet it was not the disrespect to himself personally thatdid the keenest stinging, nor even the enmity of Heaven denying him thelove permitted every other creature, bird, beast, crawling reptile,monster of the sea--these were as the ruffling of the weather feathersof a fighting eagle, compared with the torture he endured fromconsciousness of impotency to punish the wrongdoers as he would like topunish them.

  That Lael was immured somewhere in the city, he doubted not; and hewould find her, for what door could stand shut against knocking by ahand with money in it? But might it not be too late? The flower hecould recover, but the fragrance and purity of bloom--what of them? Howhis breast enlarged and shrank under the electric touch of that idea!The devil who did the deed might escape him, for hell was vast anddeep; yet the city remained, even the Byzantium ancient of days likehimself, and he would hold it a hostage for the safe return of his GulBahar.

  All the night long he walked without pause; it seemed unending to him;at length the faintest rosy tint, a reflection from morning's paletteof splendor, lodged on the glass of his eastern window, and woke himfrom his misery. At the door he found Syama.

  "Syama," he said, kindly, "bring me the little case which has in it mychoicest drugs."

  It was brought him, an oblong gold box encrusted with brilliants.Opening it, he found a spatula of fine silver on a crystal lid, andunder the lid, in compartments, pellets differently colored, one ofwhich he selected, and dropped in his throat.

  "There, put it back," he said, returning the box to Syama, who went outwith it. Looking then at the brightness brighter growing through thewindow, "Welcome," he continued, speaking to the day as it were aperson: "Thou wert slow coming, yet welcome. I am ready for this newlabor imposed on me, and shall not rest, or sleep, or hunger, or thirstuntil it is done. Thou shalt see I have not lived fourteen centuriesfor nothing; that in a hunt for vengeance I have not lost my cunning. Iwill give them till thou hast twice run thy course; then, if they bringher not, they will find the God they worship once more the Lord God ofIsrael."

  Syama returned.

  "Thou art a faithful man, Syama, and I love thee. Get me a cup of theCipango leaves--no bread, the cup alone."

  While waiting, the Prince continued his silent walk; but when the teawas brought, he said: "Good! It shall go after the meat of thepoppies"--adding to Syama--"While I drink, do thou seek Uel, and bringhim to me."

  When the son of Jahdai entered, the Prince looked at him a moment, andasked: "Hast thou word of her?"

  "Not a word, not one word," and with the reply the merchant's face sunkuntil the chin rested on his breast. The hopelessness observable in thevoice, joined to the signs of suffering apparent in the manner, wasirresistibly touching. Another instant, then the elder advanced to him,and took his hand.

  "We are brothers," he said, with exceeding gentleness. "She was ourchild--ours--thine, yet mine. She loved us both. We loved her, thou notmore, I not less. She went not willingly from us; we know that much,because we know she loved us, me not less, thee not more. A pitfall wasdigged for her. Let us find it. She is calling for us from thebottom--I hear her--now thy name, now mine--and there is no time to belost. Wilt thou do as I say?"

  "You are strong, and I weak; be it entirely as you say," Uel answered,without looking up, for there were tears in his eyes, and a great groangrowing in his throat.

  "Well, see thou now. We will find the child, be the pit ever so deep;but--it is well bethinking--we may not find her the undefiled she was,or we may find her dead. I believe she had a spirit to prefer death todishonor--but dead or dishonored, wilt thou merge thy interest in herinto mine?"

  "Yes."

  "I alone am to decide then what best becomes us to do. Is it agreed?"

  "Yes--such faith have I in you."

  "Oh, but understand thee, son of Jahdai! I speak not merely as afather, but as an Israelite."

  Uel looked at the speaker's face, and was startled. The calm voice, lowand evenly toned, to which he had been listening, had not prepared himfor the livid pursing he saw under the eyes, and the pupils lurid andunnaturally dilated--effects we know, good reader, of the meat of thepoppies assisted by the friendly Cipango leaves. Yet the merchantreplied, strong in the other's strength: "Am not I, too, anIsraelite?--Only do not take her from me."

  "Fear not. Now, son of Jahdai, let us to work. Let us first find ourpretty child."

  Again Uel was astonished. The countenance was bright and beaming withconfidence. A world of energy seemed to have taken possession of theman. He looked inspired--looked as if a tap of his finger could fetchthe extremities of the continent rolling like a carpet to his feet.

  "Go now, my brother Uel, and bring hither all the clerks in the market."

  "All of them--all? Consider the expense."

  "Nay, son of Jahdai, be thou a true Israelite. In trade, this for that,consider the profits and stand on them closely, getting all thou canst.But here is no trade--here is honor--our honor--thine, mine. Shall aChristian beat us, and wear the virtue of our daughter as it were aleman's favor? No, by Abraham--by the mother of Israel"--a returningsurge of passion blackened his face again, and quickened hisspeech--"by Rachael and Sarah, and all the God-loving asleep in Hebron,in this cause our money shall flow like water--even as the Euphrates inswollen tide goes bellowing to the sea, it shall flow. I will fill themouths and eyes as well as the pockets of this Byzantium with it, untilthere shall not be a dune on the beach, a cranny in the wall, a ratholein its accursed seven hills unexamined. Yes, the say is mine--so thoudidst agree--deny it not! Bid the clerks come, and quickly--only see toit that each brings his writing material, and a piece of paper large ashis two hands. This house for their assemblage. Haste. Time flies--andfrom the pit, out of the shadows in the bottom of the pit, I hear thevoice of Lael calling now to thee, now to me."

  Uel was not deficient in strength of purpose, nor for that matter injudgment; he went and in haste; and the clerks flocked to the Prince,and wrote at his dictation. Before half the breakfasts in the city wereeaten, vacant places at the church doors, the cheeks of all the gates,and the fronts of houses blazed with handbills, each with a readerbefore it proclaiming to listening groups:

  "BYZANTINES!

  "FATHERS AND MOTHERS OF BYZANTIUM!

  "Last evening the daughter of Uel the merchant, a child of sixteen,small in stature, with dark hair and eyes, and fair to see, was setupon in the garden of the Bucoleon, and stolen out of her sedan chair.Neither she, nor the Bulgarians carrying her have been heard of since.

  "REWARDS.

  "Out of love of the child, whose name was Lael, I will pay him whoreturns her to me living or dead

  "6,000 BEZANTS IN GOLD.

  "And to him who brings me the abductor, or the name of any one engagedin the crime, with proof to convict him,

  "5,000 BEZANTS IN GOLD.

  "Inquire of me at Uel's stall in the Market.

  "PRINCE OF INDIA."

  Thus the Jew began his campaign of discovery, meaning to follow it upwith punishment first, and then vengeance, the latter in conditionalmood.

  Let us not stop to ask about motives. This much is certain, the cityarose with one mind. Such a running here and there had never beenknown, except possibly the times enemies in force sat down before thegates. The walls landwardly by the sea and harbor, and the towers ofthe walls above and below; old houses whose solitariness and decay weresuspicious; new houses and their cellar
s; churches from crypt to pulpitand gallery; barracks and magazines, even the baker's ovens attached tothem; the wharves and vessels tied up and the ships at anchor--allunderwent a search. Hunting parties invaded the woods. Scorpions wereunnested, and bats and owls made unhappy by daylight where daylight hadnever been before. Convents and monasteries were not exempt. The seawas dragged, and the great moat from the Golden Gate to the Cynegionraked for traces of a new-made grave. Nor less were the cemeteriesoverhauled, and tombs and sarcophagi opened, and Saints' Rests dug intoand profaned. In short, but one property in Byzantium wasrespected--that of the Emperor. By noon the excitement had crossed toGalata, and was at high tide in the Isles of the Princes. Such powerwas there in the offer of bezants in gold--six thousand for the girl,five thousand for one of her captors--singly, a fortune to stir thecupidity of a Duke--together, enough to enlist a King in the work. Andeverywhere the two questions--Has she been found? and who is the Princeof India? Poor Uel had not space to think of his loss or yield tosorrow; the questions kept him so busy.

  It must not be supposed now in this all but universal search, nobodythought of the public cisterns. They were visited. Frequently throughthe day parties followed each other to the Imperial reservoir; but thekeeper was always in his place, cool, wary, and prepared for them. Hekept open door and offered no hindrance to inspection of his house. Tointerrogators he gave ready replies:

  "I was at home last night from sunset to sunrise. At dark I closed up,and no one could have come in afterwards without my seeing him.... Iknow the chair of the merchant's daughter. It is the finest in thecity. The Bulgarians have carried it past my house, but they neverstopped.... Oh, yes, you are welcome to do with the cistern what youplease. There is the doorway to the court, and in the court is thedescent to the water." Sometimes he would treat the subjectfacetiously: "If the girl were here, I should know it, and if I knewit--ha, ha, ha!--are bezants in gold by the thousand more precious toyou than to me? Do you think I too would not like to be rich?--I wholive doggedly on three noumias, helped now and then by scantypalm-salves from travellers?"

  This treatment was successful. One party did insist on going beyond thecourt. They descended the steps about half way, looked at the greatgray pillars in ghostly rows receding off into a blackness of silencethick with damps and cellar smells, each a reminder of contagion; thenat the motionless opaque water, into which the pillars sank to anunknown depth: and they shivered, and cried: "Ugh! how cold and ugly!"and hastened to get out.

  Undoubtedly appearances helped save the ancient cistern fromexamination; yet there were other influences to the same end. Itsvastness was a deterrent. A thorough survey required organization andexpensive means, such as torches, boats, fishing tongs and drag-nets;and why scour it at all, if not thoroughly and over every inch? Well,well--such was the decision--the trouble is great, and the uncertaintygreater. Another class was restrained by a sentiment possibly theoldest and most general amongst men; that which casts a spell ofsanctity around wells and springs, and stays the hand about to toss animpurity into a running stream; which impels the North American Indianto replace the gourd, and the Bedouin to spare the bucket for the nextcomer, though an enemy. In other words, the cistern was in daily use.

  One can imagine the scene at the Prince's through the day. To bring afamiliar term into service, his house was headquarters.

  About eight o'clock the sedan was brought home empty, and without asign of defacement inside or out. It told no tale.

  Noon, and still no clew.

  In the afternoon there was an observable cessation of vigor in thequest. Thousands broke off, and went about their ordinary business,giving the reason.

  "Which way now?" would be asked them.

  "Home."

  "What! Has she been found?"

  "Not that we know."

  "Ah, you have given up."

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "We are satisfied the Bulgarians stole the girl. The Turks have her;and now for a third part of either of the rewards he offers, the Princeof India, whoever he is, can ransom her. He will have plenty of time.There is no such thing as haste in a harem."

  By lamplighting in the evening, the capital resumed its customaryquiet, and of the turmoil of the day, the rush and eager halloo, thepromiscuous delving into secret places, and upturning of things strangeand suspicious, there remained nothing but a vast regret--vast in thecollective sense--for the rewards lost.

  Quiet crept into headquarters. To the Prince's insistence that the huntgo on, he was advised to prosecute the inquest on the other side of theBosphorus. The argument presented him was plausible; either--thus itran--the Bulgarians carried the child away with them or she was takenfrom them. They were stout men, yet there is no sign of a struggle. Ifthey were killed, we should find their bodies; if they are alive andinnocent, why are they not here? They would be entitled to the rewardsalong with the best of us.

  Seeing the drift, the Prince refrained from debate. He only looked moregrim and determined. When the house was cleared, he took the flooragain fiercely restless as before. Later on Uel came in, tired,spirit-worn, and apparently in the last stage of despondency.

  "Well, son of Jahdai, my poor brother," said the Prince, much moved,and speaking tenderly. "It is night, and what bringest thou?"

  "Alas! Nothing, except the people say the Bulgarians did it."

  "The Bulgarians! Would it were so; for look thee, in their hands shewould be safe. Their worst of villany would be a ransom wrung from us.Ah, no! They might have been drawn into the conspiracy; but take her,they did not. How could they have passed the gates unseen? The nightwas against them. And besides, they have not the soul to devise or darethe deed. This is no common criminal, my brother. When he is found--andhe will be, or hell hath entered into partnership with him--thou wiltsee a Greek of title, bold from breeding and association, behind him aninfluence to guarantee him against the law and the Emperor. Of theclasses in Byzantium to-day, who are the kings? Who but the monks? Andhere is a morsel of wisdom, true, else my experience is a delusion: Indecaying and half-organized states, the boldest in defying publicopinion are they who have the most to do in making it."

  "I do not understand you," Uel interposed.

  "Thou art right, my brother. I know not why I am arguing; yet I oughtnot to leave thee in the dark now; therefore I will go a step further.Thou art a Jew--not a Hebrew, or an Israelite, mark thee--but in thecontemptuous Gentile sense, a Jew. She, our gentle Gul-Bahar, hath herbeating of heart from blood thou gavest her. I also am a Jew. Now, ofthe classes in Byzantium, which is it by whom hate of Jews is thearticle of religion most faithfully practised? Think if it be not thesame from whose shops proceed the right and wrong of the time--the sameI myself scarce three days gone saw insult and mortify the man theychose Emperor, and not privately, in the depths of a monastery orchapel, but publicly, his court present.... Ah, now thou seest mymeaning! In plainest speech, my brother, when he who invented thiscrime is set down before us, look not for a soldier, or a sailor, orone of thy occupation--look not for a beggar, or a laborer, or anIslamite--look rather for a Greek, with a right from relationship nearor remote to summon the whole priestly craft to hold up his handsagainst us, Jews that we are. But I am not discouraged. I shall findher, and the titled outlaw who stole her. Or--but threats now are idle.They shall have tomorrow to bring her home. I pray pardon for keepingthee from rest and sleep. Go now. In the morning betimes see thou thatthe clerks come back to me here. I will have need of them again,for"--he mused a moment--"yes, if that I purpose must be, then, theworst betiding us, they shall not say I was hard and merciless, and cuttheir chances scant."

  Uel was at the door going, when the Prince called him back.

  "Wait--I do not need rest. Thou dost. Is Syama there?"

  "Yes."

  "Send him to me."

  When the slave was come, "Go," the master said, "and bring me thegolden case."

  And when it was brought, he took out a pellet, and gave it to Uel
.

  "There--take it, and thou shalt sleep sound as the dead, and have nevera dream--sound, yet healthfully. To-morrow we must work. To-morrow," herepeated when Uel was gone--"to-morrow! Till then, eternity."

  Let us now shift the scene to the Monastery of the St. James'.

  It is eight o'clock in the morning--about the time the empty sedan wasbeing brought to the Prince's house. Sergius had been hearkening forthe Hegumen's bell, and at the moment we look in upon him, he is withthe venerable superior, helping him to breakfast, if a meal so frugaldeserves the name.

  The young Russian, it is to be said, retired to his cell immediatelyupon the conclusion of the Festival of Flowers the evening before.Awaking early, he made personal preparation for the day, and with theBrotherhood in the chapel, performed the matinal breviary services,consisting of lauds, psalms, lections and prayers. Then he took seat byhis superior's door. By and by the bell called him in, andthenceforward he was occupied in the kitchen or at the elder's elbow.In brief, he knew nothing of the occurrence which had so overwhelmedthe merchant and the Prince of India.

  The Hegumen sat on a broad armless chair, very pale and weak--sopoorly, indeed, that the brethren had excused him from chapel duties.Having filled a flagon with water, Sergius was offering it to him, whenthe door opened without knock, or other warning, and Demedes entered.Moving silently to his father, he stooped, and kissed his hand with anunction which brought a smile to the sunken face.

  "God's benison on you, my boy. I was thinking of the airs of Prinkipoor Halki, and that they might help me somewhat; but now you are here, Iwill put them off. Bring the bench to my right hand, and partake withme, if but to break a crust."

  "The crust has the appearance of leaven in it, and you know the partyto which I belong. I am not an _azymite_."

  There was scarcely an attempt to conceal the sneer with which the youngman glanced at the brown loaf gracing the platter on the Hegumen'sknees. Seeing then a look of pain on the paternal countenance, hecontinued: "No, I have had breakfast, and came to see how you are, andto apprise you that the city is being stirred from the foam on top tothe dregs at the bottom, all because of an occurrence last evening, soincredible, so strange, so audacious, and so wicked it weakensconfidence in society, and almost forces one to look up and wonder ifGod does not sometimes sleep."

  The Hegumen and his attendant were aroused. Both gazed at Demedeslooking the same question.

  "I hesitate to tell you, my dear father, of the affair, it is soshocking. The chill of the first hearing has not left me. I am excitedbody and mind, and you know how faithfully I have tried to schoolmyself against excitement--it is unbecoming--only the weak suffer it.Rather than trust myself to the narrative--though as yet there are nodetails--I plucked a notice from a wall while coming, and as it was thefirst I had of the news, and contains all I know, I brought it along;and if you care to hear, perhaps our friend Sergius will kindly giveyou the contents. His voice is better than mine, and he is perfectlycalm."

  "Yes, Sergius will read. Give him the paper."

  Thereupon Demedes passed to Sergius one of the handbills with which thePrince of India had sown the city. After the first line, the monk beganstammering and stumbling; at the close of the first sentence, hestopped. Then he threw a glance at the Greek, and from the gaze withwhich he was met, he drew understanding and self-control. "I ask thygrace, Father," he said, raising the paper, and looking at thesignature. "I am acquainted with Uel the merchant, and with the childsaid to be stolen. I also know the man whose title is here attached. Hecalls himself Prince of India, but by what right I cannot say. Thecircumstance is a great surprise to me; so, with thy pardon, I will trythe reading again."

  Sergius finished the paper, and returned it to Demedes.

  The Hegumen folded his hands, and said: "Oh, the flow of mercy cannotendure forever!"

  Then the young men looked at each other.

  To be surprised when off guard, is to give our enemy his bestopportunity. This was the advantage the Greek then had. He wassatisfied with the working of his scheme; yet one dread had disturbedhim through the night. What would the Russian do? And when he read thePrince's proclamation, and saw the rewards offered, in amounts undreamtof, he shivered; not, as he told the Hegumen, from horror at the crime;still less from fear that the multitude might blunder on discovery; andleast of all from apprehension of betrayal from his assistants, for,with exception of the cistern-keeper, they were all in flight, and anight's journey gone. Be the mass of enemies ever so great, there isalways one to inspire us with liveliest concern. Here it was Sergius.He had come so recently into the world--descent from a monastery in thefar north was to the metropolitan much like being born again--there wasno telling what he might do. Thus moved and uncertain, the conspiratorresolved to seek his adversary, if such he were, and boldly try him. Inwhat spirit would he receive the news? That was the thought behind thegaze Demedes now bent on the unsophisticated pupil of the saintlyFather Hilarion.

  Sergius returned the look without an effort to hide the pain he reallyfelt. His utmost endeavor was to control his feelings. With no idea ofsimulation, he wanted time to think. Altogether it would have beenimpossible for him to have chosen a course more perplexing to Demedes,who found himself driven to his next play.

  "You know now," he said to his father, "why I decline to break a crustwith you. I must go and help uncover this wicked deed. The rewards aregreat"--he smiled blandly--"and I should like to win one of them atleast--the first one, for I have seen the girl called Lael. Sheinterested me, and I was in danger from her. On one occasion"--hepaused to throw a glance to Sergius--"I even made advances to becomeacquainted with her, but she repulsed me. As the Prince of India says,she was fair to see. I am sure I have your permission to engage in thehunt."

  "Go, and God speed you," the Hegumen responded.

  "Thank you; yet another request."

  He turned to the Russian.

  "Now is Sergius here tall, and, if his gown belie him not, stout, andthere may be need of muscle as well as spirit; for who can tell whereour feet will take us in a game like this, or what or whom we mayconfront? I ask you to permit him to go with me."

  "Nay," said the Hegumen, "I will urge him to go."

  Sergius answered simply:

  "Not now. I am under penance, and to-day bound to the third breviaryprayers. When they are finished, I will gladly go."

  "I am disappointed," Demedes rejoined. "But I must make haste."

  He kissed the Hegumen's hand and retired; after which, the mealspeedily concluded, Sergius gathered the few articles of service on theplatter, and raised it, but stopped to say: "After prayers, with yourconsent, reverend Father, I will take part in this affair."

  "Thou hast my consent."

  "It may take several days."

  "Give thyself all the time required. The errand is of mercy."

  And the holy man extended his hand, and Sergius saluted it reverently,and went out.

  If the young monastic kept not fast hold of the holy forms prescribedimmemorially for the third hour's service, there is little doubt he wasforgiven in the higher court before which he was supposed present, fornever had he been more nearly shaken out of his better self than by thePrince's proclamation. He had managed to appear composed while underDemedes' observation. In the language of the time, some protectingSaint prompted him to beware of the Greek, and keeping the admonition,he had come well out of the interview; but hardly did the Hegumen'sdoor close behind him before Lael's untoward fate struck him witheffect. He hurried to his cell, thinking to recover himself; but it wasas if he were pursued by a voice calling him, and directly the voiceseemed hers, sharp and piercing from terror. A little later he took toanswering the appeal--I hear, but where art thou? His agitation grewuntil the bell summoned him to the chapel, and the sound was gladdeningon account of the companionship it promised. Surely the voice would belost in the full-toned responses of the brethren. Not so. He heard iteven more clearly. Then, to place himself certainly beyond
it, hebegged an ancient worshipper at his side to loan him his triptych. Foronce, however, the sorrowful figure of the Christ on the central tabletwas of no avail, hold it close as he might; strange to say, the face ofthe graven image assumed her likeness; so he was worse off than before,for now her suffering look was added to her sorrowful cry.

  At last the service was over. Rushing back to his cell he exchanged hisblack gown for the coarse gray garment with which he had sallied fromBielo-Osero. Folding the veil, and putting it carefully away in hishat, he went forth, a hunter as the multitude were hunters; only, as weshall presently see, his zeal was more lasting than theirs, and he wasowner of an invaluable secret.

  On the street he heard everywhere of the rewards, and everywhere thequestion, Has she been found? The population, women and childrenincluded, appeared to have been turned out of their houses. The cornerswere possessed by them, and it will be easy for readers who have oncelistened to Greeks in hot debate to fancy how on this occasion theywere heard afar. Yet Sergius went his way unobservant of the remarksdrawn by the elephantine ears of his outlandish hood, his tall form,and impeded step.

  Had one stopped him to ask, Where are you going? it is doubtful if hecould have told. He had no plan; he was being pulled along by a pain ofheart rather than a purpose--moving somnolently through a light whichwas also a revelation, for now he knew he loved the lost girl--knew it,not by something past, such as recollections of her sweetness andbeauty, but by a sense of present bereavement, an agonizing impulsion,a fierce desire to find the robber, a murderous longing the like ofwhich had never assailed him. The going was nearest an answer he couldmake to the voice calling him, equivalent to, I am coming.

  He sped through the Hippodrome outwalking everybody; then through theenclosure of Sancta Sophia; then down the garden terraces--Oh, that thecopse could have told him the chapter it had witnessed!--then up thebroad stairway to the promenade, and along it toward Port St. Julian,never pausing until he was at the bench in the angle of the wall fromwhich he had overheard Demedes' story of the Plague of Crime.

  Now the bench was not in his mind when he started from the monastery;neither had he thought of it on the way, or of the dark history it hadhelped him to; in a freak, he took the seat he had formerly occupied,placed his arm along the coping of the parapet, and closed his eyes.And strange to say, the conversation of that day repeated itself almostword for word. Stranger still, it had now a significancy not thenobserved; and as he listened, he interpreted, and the fever of spiritleft him.

  About an hour before noon, he arose from the bench like one refreshedby sleep, cool, thoughtful, capable. In the interval he had put offboyishness, and taken on manhood replete with a faculty for worldlythinking that would have alarmed Father Hilarion. In other words, hewas seeing things as they were; that bad and good, for instance, werecoexistent, one as much a part of the plan of creation as the other;that religion could only regulate and reform; that the end of dayswould find good men striving with bad men--in brief, that Demedes wasperforming the role to which his nature and aptitude assigned him, justas the venerable Hegumen, his father, was feebly essaying acounterpart. Nor was that all. The new ideas to which he had beenconverted facilitated reflection along the lines of wickedness. In thePlague of Crime, told the second time, he believed he had found whathad befallen Lael. Demedes, he remembered, gave the historic episode toconvince his protesting friend how easy it would be to steal anddispose of her. The argument pointed to the Imperial cistern as thehiding-place.

  Sergius' first prompting was to enlist the aid of the Prince of India,and go straight to the deliverance; but he had arisen from the bench aperson very different from a blind lover. Not that his love hadcooled--ah, no! But there were things to be done before exposing hissecret. Thus, his curiosity had never been strong enough to induce himto look into the cistern. Was it not worth while to assure himself ofthe possibility of its conversion to the use suspected? He turned, andwalked back rapidly--down the stairway, up the terraces, and throughthe Hippodrome. Suddenly he was struck with the impolicy of presentinghimself to the cistern-keeper in his present costume--it would be sucha help to identification by Demedes. So he continued on to themonastery, and resumed the black gown and tall hat.

  The Hegumen's door, which he had to pass in going out again, served himwith another admonition. If Demedes were exposed through his endeavor,what of the father? If, in the conflict certain of precipitation, thelatter sided with his son--and what could be more natural?--would notthe Brotherhood follow him? How then could he, Sergius, a foreigner,young, and without influence, combat a fraternity powerful in the cityand most powerful up at Blacherne?

  At this, it must be confessed, the young man's step lost itselasticity; his head sunk visibly, and the love just found was drivento divide its dominion with a well-grounded practical apprehension. Yethe walked on, out of the gate, and thence in the direction of thecistern.

  Arrived there, he surveyed the wooden structure doubtfully. The doorwas open, and just inside of it the keeper sat stick in hand drummingupon the brick pavement, a man of medium height and rather pleasantdemeanor.

  "I am a stranger here," Sergius said to him. "The cistern is public, Ibelieve; may I see it?"

  "It is public, and you may look at it all you want. The door there atthe end of the passage will let you into the court. If you have troublein finding the stairway down, call me."

  Sergius dropped some small coin into the keeper's hand.

  The court was paved with yellow Roman brick, and moderately spacious.An oblong curbing in the centre without rails marked the place ofdescent to the water. Overhead there was nothing to interfere with thefall of light from the blue sky, except that in one corner a shed hadbeen constructed barely sufficient to protect a sedan chair depositedthere, its poles on end leant against the wall. Sergius noticed thechair and the poles, then looked down over the curbing into a doorway,and saw four stone steps leading to a platform three or four feetsquare. Observing a further descent, he went down to the landing, wherehe paused long enough to be satisfied that the whole stairway was builtinto the eastern wall of the cistern. The light was already dim.Proceeding carefully, for the stones were slippery, he counted fourteensteps to another landing, the width of the first but quite ten feetlong, and slightly submerged with water. Here, as he could go nofurther, he stopped to look about him.

  It is true there was not much to be seen, yet he was at once impressedwith a sense of vastness and durability. A dark and waveless sheet laystretched before him, merging speedily into general blackness. Aboutfour yards away and as many apart, two gigantic pillars arose out ofthe motionless flood stark and ghostly gray. Behind them, suggestive ofrows with an aisle between, other pillars were seen, mere uprightstreaks of uncertain hue fainter growing in the shadowy perspective.Below there was nothing to arrest a glance. Raising his eyes to theroof above him, out of the semi-obscurity, he presently defined a brickvault springing boldly from the Corinthian capitals of the nearestpillars, and he knew straightway the roof was supported by a system ofvaults susceptible of indefinite extension. But how was he, standing ona platform at the eastern edge of the reservoir, mighty in so manysenses, to determine its shape, width, length? Stooping he looked downthe vista straining his vision, but there was no opposite wall--onlydarkness and impenetrability. He filled his lungs trying the air, andit was damp but sweet. He stamped with force--there was a rumble in thevault overhead--that was all. He called: "Lael, Lael"--there was noanswer, though he listened, his soul in his ears. Therewith he gaveover trying to sound the great handmade cavern, and lingered awhilemuttering:

  "It is possible, it is possible! At the end of this row of pillars"--hemade a last vain effort to discover the end--"there may be a houseafloat, and she"--he clinched his hands, and shook with a return ofmurderous passion--"God help her! Nay, God help me! If she is here, asI believe, I will find her."

  In the court he again noticed the sedan in the corner.

  "I am obliged to you," he said to
the keeper by the door. "How old isthe cistern?"

  "Constantine begun it, and Justinian finished it, they say."

  "Is it in use now?"

  "They let buckets down through traps in the roof."

  "Do you know how large it is?" [Footnote: Yere Batan Serai, or theUnderground Palace, the ancient Royal Cistern, or cistern ofConstantine, is in rank, as well as in interest and beauty, the chiefByzantine cistern. It is on the right-hand side of the tramway street,west of St. Sophia. The entrance is in the yard of a large Ottomanhouse in last street on the right of tramway street before the tramwayturns abruptly west (to right) after passing St. Sophia.

  This cistern was built by Constantine the Great, and deepened andenlarged by Justinian the Great in 527, the first year of his reign. Ithas been in constant use ever since. The water is supplied from unknownand subterranean sources, sometimes rising nearly to the capitals ofthe columns. It is still in admirable preservation: all its columns arein position, and almost the entire roof is intact. The columns arearranged in twelve rows of twenty-eight, there being in all threehundred and thirty-six, which are twelve feet distant from each otheror from the wall. Some of the capitals are Corinthian; others plain,hardly more than truncated pyramids. The roof consists of a successionof brick vaults.

  On left side in yard of the large Ottoman house already mentioned is atrap-door. One is let down over a rickety ladder about four feet to thetop of four high stone steps, which descend on the left to a platformabout three and one-half feet square which projects without railingover the water. Thence fourteen steps, also without railing, conduct toanother platform below, about three and one-half feet wide and ten feetlong. Sometimes this lower platform and the nearer steps are coveredwith water, though seldom in summer and early fall. These steps areuneven--in places are broken and almost wanting; and they as well asboth platforms are exceedingly slippery. The place is absolutely darksave for the feeble rays which glimmer from the lantern of the guide.One should remember there is no railing or barrier of any sort, and notadvance an inch without seeing where he puts his foot. Then there is nodanger. Moreover, the platform below is less slippery than the steps orthe platform above. Visitors will do well to each bring his own candleor small lantern, not for illumination but for safety. When thevisitors have arrived on the lower platform, which is near the middleof the eastern side against the wall, the guide, who has not descendedthe steps, lights a basket of shavings or other quick combustible onthe platform above. The effect is instantaneous and magical. Suddenlyfrom an obscurity so profound that only the outline of the nearestcolumns can be faintly discerned by the flicker of a candle, the entiremaze of columns flashes into being resplendent and white. The roof andthe water send the light back to each other. Not a sound is heard savedistant splashes here and there as a bucket descends to supply thenecessities of some house above. Nowhere can be beheld a scene moreweird and enchanting. It will remain printed on the memory when manyanother experience of Stamboul is dim or forgotten.

  PROFESSOR GROSVENOR. CONSTANTINOPLE.]

  The keeper laughed, and pommelled the pavement vigorously: "I was neverthrough it--haven't the courage--nor do I know anybody who has been.They say it has a thousand pillars, and that it is supplied by a river.They tell too how people have gone into it with boats, and never comeout, and that it is alive with ghosts; but of these stories I saynothing, because I know nothing."

  Sergius thereupon departed.