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

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER XXIV

  THE IMPERIAL CISTERN GIVES UP ITS SECRET

  The reader will return--not unwillingly, it is hoped--to Lael.

  The keeper, on watch for her, made haste to bar the door behind thecarriers of the sedan, who, on their part, made greater haste to takeboat and fly the city. From his sitting-room he brought a lamp, andopening the chair found the passenger in a corner to appearance dead.The head was hanging low; through the dishevelled hair the slightestmargin of forehead shone marble white; a scarce perceptible rise andfall of the girlish bosom testified of the life still there. A woman atmercy, though dumb, is always eloquent.

  "Here she is at last!" the keeper thought, while making a profanesurvey of the victim.... "Well, if beauty was his object--beautywithout love--he may be satisfied. That's as the man is. I would ratherhave the bezants she has cost him. The market's full of just suchbeauty in health and strength--beauty matured and alive, not wiltedlike this! ... But every fish to its net, every man to his fate, as theinfidels on the other shore say. To the cistern she must go, and I mustput her there. Oh, how lucky! Her wits are out--prayers, tears,resistance would be uncomfortable. May the Saints keep her!" Closingthe door of the sedan, he hurried out into the court, and thence downthe cistern stairs to the lower platform, where he drew the boat in,and fixed it stationary by laying the oars across the gunwale from astep. The going and return were quick.

  "The blood of doves, or the tears of women--I am not yet decided whichis hardest on a soul.... Come along!... There is a palace at thefurther end of the road."...

  He lifted her from the chair. In the dead faint she was more aninconvenient burden than a heavy one.

  At the curbing he sat her down while he returned for the lamp. Thesteps within were slippery, and he dared take no risks. To get her intothe boat was trying: yet he was gentle as possible--that, however, wasfrom regard for the patron he was serving. He laid her head against aseat, and arranged her garments respectfully.

  "O sweet Mother of Blacherne!" he then said, looking at the face forthe first time fully exposed. "That pin on the shoulder--Heavens, howthe stone flashes! It invites me." Unfastening the trinket, he securedit under his jacket, then ran on: "She is so white! I must hurry--ordrop her overboard. If she dies"--his countenance showed concern, butbrightened immediately. "Oh, of course she jumped overboard to escape!"

  There was no further delay. With the lamp at the bow, he pushed off,and rowed vigorously. Through the pillared space he went, with manyquick turns. It were vain saying exactly which direction he took, orhow long he was going; after a time, the more considerable on accountof the obstructions to be avoided, he reached the raft heretoforedescribed as in the form of a cross and anchored securely between fourof the immense columns by which the roof of the cistern was upheld.Still Lael slept the merciful sleep.

  Next the keeper carried the unresisting body to a door of what in thefeeble light seemed a low, one-storied house--possibly hut were abetter word--thence into an interior where the blackness may be likenedto a blindfold many times multiplied. Yet he went to a couch, and laidher upon it.

  "There--my part is done!" he muttered, with a long-drawn breath...."Now to illuminate the Palace! If she were to awake in thispitch-black"--something like a laugh interrupted the speech--"it wouldstrangle her--oil from the press is not thicker."

  He brought in the light--in such essential midnight it wasindispensable, and must needs be always thought of--and amongst thethings which began to sparkle was a circlet of furbished metalsuspended from the centre of the ceiling. It proved to be a chandelier,provided with a number of lamps ready for lighting; and when they wereall lit, the revelation which ensued while a lesson in extravagance wasnot less a tribute to the good taste of the reckless genius by which itwas conceived.

  It were long reading the inventory of articles he had brought togetherthere for the edification and amusement of such as might become hisidols. They were everywhere apparently--books, pictures, musicalinstruments--on the floor, a carpet to delight a Sultana mother--overthe walls, arras of silk and gold in alternate threads--the ceiling anelaboration of wooden panels.

  By referring to the diagram of the raft, it will be seen one quarterwas reserved for a landing, while the others supported what may betermed pavilions, leaving an interior susceptible of division intothree rooms. Standing under the circlet of light, an inmate could seeinto the three open quarters, each designed and furnished for a specialuse; this at the right hand, for eating and drinking; that at the left,for sleeping; the third, opposite the door, for lounging and reading.In the first one, a table already set glittered with ware in glass andprecious metals; in the second, a mass of pink plush and fairy-likelace bespoke a bed; in the third were chairs, a lounge, and footrestswhich had the appearance of having been brought from a Ptolemaic palaceonly yesterday; and on these, strewn with an eye to artistic effect,lay fans and shawls for which the harem-queens of Persia and Hindostanmight have contended. The "crown-jewel" of this latter apartment,however, was undoubtedly a sheet of copper burnished to answer thepurpose of a looking-glass with a full-length view. On stands next themirror, was a collection of toilet necessaries.

  Elsewhere we have heard of a Palace of Love lying as yet in the highintent of Mahommed; here we have a Palace of Pleasure illustrative ofEpicureanism according to Demedes. The expense and care required tomake it an actuality beget the inference that the float, rough outside,splendid within, was not for Lael alone. A Princess of India mightinaugurate it, but others as fair and highborn were to come after her,recipients of the same worship. Whosoever the favorite of the hourmight be, the three pavilions were certainly the assigned limits of herbeing; while the getting rid of her would be never so easy--the waterflowing, no one knew whence or whither, was horribly suggestive. Onceinstalled there, it was supposed that longings for the upper worldwould go gradually out. The mistress, with nothing to wish for not athand, was to be a Queen, with Demedes and his chosen of the philosophiccircle for her ministers. In other words, the Academic Temple in theupper world was but a place of meeting; this was the Temple in fact.There the gentle priests talked business; here they worshipped; and oftheir psalter and litany, their faith and ceremonial practices, enoughthat the new substitute for religion was only a reembodiment of an oldphilosophy with the narrowest psychical idea for creed; namely, thatthe principle of Present Life was all there was in man worth cultureand gratification.

  The keeper cared little for the furnishments and curios. He was muchmore concerned in the restoration of his charge, being curious to seehow she would behave on waking. He sprinkled her face with water, andfanned her energetically, using an ostrich wing of the whiteness ofsnow, overlaid about the handle with scarab-gems. Nor did he forget topray.

  "O Holy Mother! O sweet Madonna of Blacherne! Do not let her die.Darkness is nothing to thee. Thou art clothed in brightness. Oh, asthou lovest all thy children, descend hither, and open her eyes, andgive her speech!"

  The man was in earnest.

  Greatly to his delight, he beheld the blood at length redden the prettymouth, and the eyelids begin to tremble. Then a long, deep inhalation,and an uncertain fearful looking about; first at the circlet of thelamps, and next at the keeper, who, as became a pious Byzantine, burstinto exclamation:

  "Oh Holy Mother! I owe you a candle!"

  Directly, having risen to a sitting posture, Lael found her tongue:

  "You are not my father Uel, or my father the Prince of India?"

  "No," he returned, plying the fan.

  "Where are they? Where is Sergius?"

  "I do not know."

  "Who are you?"

  "I am appointed to see that no harm comes to you."

  This was intended kindly enough; it had, however, the opposite effect.She arose, and with both hands holding the hair from her eyes, staredwildly at objects in the three rooms, and fell to the couch againinsensible. And again the water, the ostrich-wing, and the prayer tothe Lady of Blacherne--again an awakening.


  "Where am I?" she asked.

  "In the Palace of"--

  He had not time to finish; with tears, and moans, and wringing of handsshe sat up: "Oh, my father! Oh, that I had heeded him! ... You willtake me to him, will you not? He is rich, and loves me, and he willgive you gold and jewels until you are rich. Only take me to him....See--I am praying to you!"--and she cast herself at his feet.

  Now the keeper was not used to so much loveliness in great distress,and he moved away; but she tried to follow him on her knees, crying:"Oh, as you hope mercy for yourself, take me home!" And beginning todoubt his strength, he affected harshness.

  "It is useless praying to me. I could not take you out if your fatherrained gold on me for a month--I could not if I wished to.... Besensible, and listen to me."

  "Then you did not bring me here."

  "Listen to me, I say.... You will get hungry and thirsty--there arebread, fruit, and water and wine--and when you are sleepy, yonder isthe bed. Use your eyes, and you are certain to find in one room or theother everything you can need; and whatever you put hand on is yours.Only be sensible, and quit taking on so. Quit praying to me. Prayer isfor the Madonna and the Blessed Saints. Hush and hear. No? Well, I amgoing now."

  "Going?--and without telling me where I am? Or why I was brought here?Or by whom? Oh, my God!"

  She flung herself on the floor distracted; and he, apparently notminding, went on:

  "I am going now, but will come back for your orders in the morning, andagain in the evening. Do not be afraid; it is not intended to hurt you;and if you get tired of yourself, there are books; or if you do notread, maybe you sing--there are musical instruments, and you can chooseamongst them. Now I grant you I am not a waiting-maid, having had noeducation in that line; still, if I may advise, wash your face, anddress your hair, and be beautiful as you can, for by and by he willcome"--

  "Who will come?" she asked, rising to her knees, and clasping her hands.

  The sight was more than enough for him. He fled incontinently, saying:"I will be back in the morning." As he went he snatched up theindispensable lamp; outside, he locked the door; then rowed away,repeating, "Oh, the blood of doves and the tears of women!"

  Left thus alone, the unfortunate girl lay on the floor a long time,sobbing, and gradually finding the virtue there is in tears--especiallytears of repentance. Afterwhile, with the return of reason--meaningpower to think--the silence of the place became noticeable. Listeningclosely, she could detect no sign of life--nothing indicative of astreet, or a house adjoining, or a neighbor, or that there was anyoutdoors about her at all. The noise of an insect, the note of a bird,a sough of wind, the gurgle of water, would have relieved her from thesense of having in some way fallen off the earth, and been caught by afar away uninhabited planet. That would certainly have been hard; butworse--the idea of being doomed to stay there took possession of her,and becoming intolerable, she walked from room to room, and even triedto take interest in the things around. Will it ever be that a woman canpass a mirror without being arrested by it? Before the tall copperplate she finally stopped. At first, the figure she saw startled her.The air of general discomfiture--hair loose, features tear-stained,eyes red and swollen, garments disarranged--made it look like astranger. The notion exaggerated itself, and further on she found apositive comfort in the society of the image, which not only lookedsomebody else, but more and more somebody else who was lost likeherself, and, being in the same miserable condition, would be happy toexchange sympathy for sympathy.

  Now the spectacle of a person in distress is never pleasant; whereforepermission is begged to dismiss the passage of that night in thecistern briefly as possible. From the couch to the mirror; fearing now,then despairing; one moment calling for help, listening next, herdistracted fancy caught by an imaginary sound; too much fevered to carefor refreshments; so overwhelmed by the awful sense of being hopelesslyand forever lost, she could neither sleep nor control herself mentally.Thus tortured, there were no minutes or hours to her, only a time, thatbeing a peculiarity of the strange planet her habitat. To be sure, sheexplored her prison intent upon escape, but was as often beaten back bywalls without window, loophole or skylight--walls in which there wasbut one door, fastened outside.

  The day following was to the captive in nothing different from thenight--a time divisionless, and filled with fear, suspense, andhorrible imaginings--a monotony unbroken by a sound. If she could haveheard a bell, though ever so faint, or a voice, to whomsoeveraddressed, it would yet prove her in an inhabited world--nay, could shebut have heard a cricket singing!

  In the morning the keeper kept his appointment. He came alone andwithout business except to renew the oil in the lamps. After a carefulsurvey of the palace, as he called it, probably in sarcasm, and as hewas about to leave, he offered, if she wanted anything, to bring itupon his return. Was there ever prisoner not in want of liberty? Theproposal did but reopen the scene of the evening previous; and he fledfrom it, repeating as before, "Oh, the blood of doves and the tears ofwomen!"

  In the evening he found her more tractable; so at least he thought; andshe was in fact quieter from exhaustion. None the less he again fled toescape the entreaties with which she beset him.

  She took to the couch the second night. The need of nature was toostrong for both grief and fear, and she slept. Of course she knew notof the hunt going on, or of the difficulties in the way of finding her;and in this ignorance the sensation of being lost gradually yielded tothe more poignant idea of desertion. Where was Sergius? Would thereever be a fitter opportunity for display of the superhuman intelligencewith which, up to this time, she had invested her father, the Prince ofIndia? The stars could tell him everything; so, if now they were silentrespecting her, it could only be because he had not consulted them.Situations such as she was in are right quarters of the moon forunreasonable fantasies; and she fell asleep oppressed by a convictionthat all the friendly planets, even Jupiter, for whose appearance shehad so often watched with the delight of a lover, were hastening totheir Houses to tell him where she was, but for some reason he ignoredthem.

  Still later, she fell into a defiant sullenness, one of the manyaspects of despair.

  In this mood, while lying on the couch, she heard the sound of oars,and almost immediately after felt the floor jar. She sat up, wonderingwhat had brought the keeper back so soon. Steps then approached thedoor; but the lock there proving troublesome, suggested oneunaccustomed to it; whereupon she remembered the rude advice to washher face and dress her hair, for by and by somebody was coming.

  "Now," she thought, "I shall learn who brought me here, and why."

  A hope returned to her.

  "Oh, it may be my father has at last found me!"

  She arose--a volume of joy gathered in her heart ready to burst intoexpression--when the door was pushed open, and Demedes entered.

  We know the figure he thus introduced to her. With averted face hereinserted the key in the lock. She saw the key, heavy enough inemergency for an aggressive weapon--she saw a gloved hand turn it, andheard the bolt plunge obediently into its socket--and the flicker ofhope went out. She sunk upon the couch again, sullenly observant.

  The visitor--at first unrecognized by her--behaved as if at home, andconfident of an agreeable reception. Having made the door safe on theoutside, he next secured it inside, by taking the key out. Stillaverting his face, he went to the mirror, shook the great cloak fromhis shoulders, and coolly surveyed himself, turning this way and that.He rearranged his cape, took off the cap, and, putting the plumes inbetter relation, restored it to his head--thrust his gloves on one sideunder a swordless belt, and the ponderous key under the same belt buton the other side, where it had for company a straight dagger ofthreatening proportions.

  Lael kept watch on these movements, doubtful if the stranger were awareof her presence. Uncertainty on that score was presently removed.Turning from the mirror, he advanced slowly toward her. When under thecirclet, just at the point where the light was
most favorable for anexhibition of himself, he stopped, doffed the cap, and said to her:

  "The daughter of the Prince of India cannot have forgotten me."

  Now if, from something said in this chronicle, the reader has been ledto exalt the little Jewess into a Bradamante, it were just to undeceivehim. She was a woman in promise, of fair intellect subordinate to apure heart. Any great thing said or done by her would be certain tohave its origin in her affections. The circumstances in which she wouldbe other than simple and unaffected are inconceivable. In the beautifularmor, Demedes was handsome, particularly as there was no other mannear to force a comparison of stature; yet she did not see any of hisbraveries--she saw his face alone, and with what feeling may beinferred from the fact that she now knew who brought her where she was,and the purpose of the bringing.

  Instead of replying, she shrank visibly further and further from him,until she was an apt reminder of a hare cornered by a hound, or a doveat last overtaken by a hawk.

  The suffering she had undergone was discernible in her appearance, forshe had not taken the advice of the keeper; in a word, she was at themoment shockingly unlike the lissome, happy, radiant creature whom wesaw set out for a promenade two days before. Her posture was crouching;the hair was falling all ways; both hands pressed hard upon her bosom;and the eyes were in fixed gaze, staring at him as at death. She was inthe last extremity of fear, and he could not but see it.

  "Do not be afraid," he said, hurriedly, and in a tone of pity. "Youwere never safer than you are here--I swear it, O Princess!"

  Observing no change in her or indication of reply, he continued: "I seeyour fear, and it may be I am its object. Let me come and sit by you,and I will explain everything--where you are--why you were broughthere--and by whom.... Or give me a place at your feet.... I will notspeak for myself, except as I love you--nay, I will speak for love."

  Still not a word from her--only a sullenness in which he fancied therewas a threat.... A threat? What could she do? To him, nothing; he wasin shirt of steel; but to herself much.... And he thought of suicide,and then of--madness.

  "Tell me, O Princess, if you have received any disrespect since youentered this palace? There is but one person from whom it could haveproceeded. I know him; and if, against his solemn oath, he has dared anunseemly look or word--if he has touched you profanely--you may choosethe dog's death he shall die, and I will give it him. For that I wearthis dagger. See!"

  In this he was sincere; yet he shall be a student very recently come tolessons in human nature who fails to perceive the reason of hissincerity; possibly she saw it; we speak with uncertainty, for shestill kept silent. Again he cast about to make her speak. Reproach,abuse, rage, tears in torrents, fury in any form were preferable tothat look, so like an animal's conscious of its last moment.

  "Must I talk to you from this distance? I can, as you see, but it iscruel; and if you fear me"--he smiled, as if the idea were amusing."Oh! if you still fear me, what is there to prevent my compelling thefavors I beg?"

  The menace was of no more effect than entreaty. Paralysis of spiritfrom fright was new to him; yet the resources of his wit were withoutend. Going to the table, he looked it over carefully.

  "What!" he cried, turning to her with well-dissembled astonishment."Hast thou eaten nothing? Two days, and not a crumb of bread in thypretty throat?--not a drop of wine? This shall not go on--no, by allthe goodness there is in Heaven!"

  On a plate he then placed a biscuit and a goblet filled with red wineof the clearest sparkle, and taking them to her, knelt at her feet.

  "I will tell you truly, Princess--I built this palace for you, andbrought you here under urgency of love. God deny me forever, if I oncedreamed of starving you! Eat and drink, if only to give me ease ofconscience."

  He offered the plate to her.

  She arose, her face, if possible, whiter than before.

  "Do not come near me--keep off!" Her voice was sharp and high. "Keepoff!... Or take me to my father's house. This palace is yours--you havethe key. Oh, be merciful!"

  Madness was very near her.

  "I will obey you in all things but one," he said, and returned theplate to the table, content with having brought her to speech. "In allthings but one," he repeated peremptorily, standing under the circlet."I will not take you to your father's house. I brought you here toteach you what I would never have a chance to teach you there--that youare the idol for whom I have dared every earthly risk, and imperilledmy soul.... Sit down and rest yourself. I will not come near youto-night, nor ever without your consent.... Yes, that is well. And nowyou are seated, and have shown a little faith in my word--for which Ithank you and kiss your hand--hear me further and be reasonable.... Youshall love me."

  Into this declaration he flung all the passion of his nature.

  "No, no! Draw not away believing yourself in peril. You shall love me,but not as a scourged victim. I am not a brute. I may be won toolightly, by a voice, by bright eyes, by graces of person, byfaithfulness where faithfulness is owing, by a soul created for loveand aglow with it as a star with light; but I am not of those who killthe beloved, and justify the deed, pleading coldness, scorn, preferencefor another. Be reasonable, I say, O Princess, and hear how I willconquer you.... Are not the better years of life ours? Why should Istruggle or make haste, or be impatient? Are you not where I havechosen to put you?--where I can visit you day and night to assuremyself of your health and spirits?--all in the world, yet out of itssight?... You may not know what a physician Time is. I do. He has amedicine for almost every ailment of the mind, every distemper of thesoul. He may not set my lady's broken finger, but he will knit it so,when sound again, the hurt shall be forgotten. He drops a month--inextreme cases, a year or years--on a grief, or a bereavement, and itbecomes as if it had never been. So he lets the sun in on prejudicesand hates, and they wither, and where they were, we go and gather thefruits and flowers of admiration, respect--ay, Princess, of love. Now,in this cause, I have chosen Time for my best friend; he and I willcome together, and stay"--

  The conclusion of the speech must be left to the reader, for with thelast word some weighty solid crashed against the raft until it trembledthroughout. Demedes stopped. Involuntarily his hand sought the dagger;and the action was a confession of surprise. An interval of quietensued; then came a trial of the lock--at first, gentle--another, withenergy--a third one rattled the strong leaf in its frame.

  "The villain! I will teach him--No, it cannot be--he would notdare--and besides I have the boat."

  As Demedes thus acquitted the keeper, he cast a serious glance aroundhim, evidently in thought of defence.

  Again the raft was shaken, as if by feet moving rapidly under a heavyburden. Crash!--and the door was splintered. Once more--crash!--anddoor and framework shot in--a thunderbolt had not wrought the wreckmore completely.

  Justice now to the Greek. Though a genius all bad, he was manly.Retiring to a position in front of Lael, he waited, dagger in hand. Andhe had not breathed twice, before Nilo thrust his magnificent personthrough the breach, and advanced under the circlet.

  Returning now. Had the King been in toils, and hard pressed, he wouldnot have committed himself to the flood and darkness of the cistern inthe manner narrated; at least the probabilities are he would havepreferred battle in the court, and light, though of the city on fire,by which to conquer or die. But his blood was up, and he was inpursuit, not at bay; to the genuine fighting man, moreover, a taste ofvictory is as a taste of blood to tigers. He was not in humor to botherhimself with practical considerations such as--If I come upon thehiding-place of the Greek, how, being deaf and dumb, am I to know it?Of what use are eyes in a hollow rayless as this? Whether he consideredthe obvious personal dangers of the adventure--drowning, forinstance--is another matter.

  The water was cold, and his teeth chattered; for it will be recollectedhe was astride the poles of the sedan, lashed together. That his bodywas half submerged was a circumstance he little heeded, since it wasrather helpful t
han otherwise to the hand strokes with which hepropelled himself. Nor need it be supposed he moved slowly. The speedattainable by such primitive means in still water is wonderful.

  Going straight from the lower platform of the stair, he was presentlyin total darkness. With a row of columns on either hand, he managed tokeep direction; and how constantly and eagerly he employed the oneavailable sense left him may be imagined. His project was to push onuntil stayed by a boundary wall--then he would take another course, andso on to the end. The enemy, by his theory, was in a boat or floatinghouse. Hopeful, determined, inspirited by the prospect of combat, hemade haste as best he could. At last, looking over his left shoulder,he beheld a ruddy illumination, and changed direction thither.Presently he swept into the radius of a stationary light, broken, ofcourse, by intervening pillars and the shadows they cast; then, at hisright, a hand lamp in front of what had the appearance of a houserising out of the water, startled him.

  Was it a signal?

  The King approached warily, until satisfied no ambush wasintended--until, in short, the palace of the Greek was before him.

  It was his then to surprise; so he drove the ends of the poles againstthe landing with force sufficient, as we have seen, to interruptDemedes explaining how he meant to compel the love of Lael.

  With all his nicety of contrivance, the Greek had at the last momentforgotten to extinguish the lamp or take it into the house with him.The King recognized it and the boat, yet circumspectly drew his humblecraft up out of the water. He next tried the lock, and then the door;finally he used the poles as a ram.

  Taking stand under the circlet, there was scant room between it and theblue handkerchief on his head; while the figure he presented, nude tothe waist, his black skin glistening with water, his trousers clingingto his limbs, his nostrils dilating, his eyes jets of flame, his cruelwhite teeth exposed--this figure the dullest fancy can evoke--and itmust have appeared to the guilty Greek a very genius of vengeance.

  Withal, however, the armor and the dagger brought Demedes up to acertain equality; and, as he showed no flinching, the promise of combatwas excellent. It happened, however, that while the two silentlyregarded each other, Lael recognized the King, and unable to controlherself, gave a cry of joy, and started to him. Instinctively Demedesextended a hand to hold her back; the giant saw the opening; two stepsso nearly simultaneous the movement was like a leap--and he had thewrist of the other's armed hand in his grip. Words can convey no ideaof the outburst attending the assault--it was the hoarse inarticulatefalsetto of a dumb man signalizing a triumph. If the reader can thinkof a tiger standing over him, its breath on his cheek, its roar in hisears, something approximate to the effect is possible.

  The Greek's cap fell off, and the dagger rattled to the floor. Hiscountenance knit with sudden pain--the terrible grip was crushing thebones--yet he did not submit. With the free hand, he snatched the keyfrom his belt, and swung it to strike--the blow was intercepted--thekey wrenched away. Then Demedes' spirit forsook him--mortal terrorshowed in his face turned gray as ashes, and in his eyes, enlarged yetready to burst from their sockets. He had not the gladiator'sresignation under judgment of death.

  "Save me, O Princess, save me!... He is killing me.... MyGod--see--hear--he is crushing my bones!... Save me!"

  Lael was then behind the King, on her knees, thanking Heaven forrescue. She heard the imploration, and, woman-like, sight of the awfulagony extinguished the memory of her wrongs.

  "Spare him, Nilo, for my sake, spare him!" she cried.

  It was not alone her wrongs that were forgotten--she forgot that theavenger could not hear.

  Had he heard, it is doubtful if he had obeyed; for we again remark hewas fighting less for her than for his master--or rather for her in hismaster's interest. And besides, it was the moment of victory, when, ofall moments, the difference between the man born and reared underChristian influences and the savage is most impressible.

  While she was entreating him, he repeated the indescribable howl, andcatching Demedes bore him to the door and out of it. At the edge of thelanding, he twisted his fingers in the long locks of the screamingwretch, whose boasted philosophy was of so little worth to him now thathe never thought of it--then he plunged him in the water, and held himunder until--enough, dear reader!

  Lael did not go out. The inevitable was in the negro's face. Retreatingto the couch, she there covered her ears with her hands, trying toescape the prayers the doomed man persisted to the last in addressingher.

  By and by Nilo returned alone.

  He took the cloak from the floor, wrapped her in it, and signed her togo with him; but the distresses she had endured, together with thehorrors of the scene just finished, left her half fainting. In his armsshe was a child. Almost before she knew it, he had placed her in theboat. With a cord found in the house, he tied the poles behind thevessel, and set out to find the stairs, the tell-tale lamp twinkling atthe bow.

  Safely arrived there, the good fellow carried his fair charge up thesteps to the court--descending again, he brought the poles--going backonce more, he drew the boat on the lower platform. Then to hasten tothe street door, unbar it, and admit Sergius were scarce a minute'swork.

  The monk's amazement and delight at beholding Lael, and hers at sightof him, require no labored telling. At that meeting, conventionalitieswere not observed. He carried her into the passage, and gave her thekeeper's chair; after which, reminded of the programme so carefullylaid out by him, he returned with Nilo to the court, where theillumination in the sky still dropped its relucent flush. Turning theKing face to him he asked:

  "Where is the keeper?"

  The King walked to the sedan, opened the door, and dragging the deadman forth, flung him sprawling on the pavement.

  Sergius stood speechless, seeing what the victor had not--arrests,official inquests, and the dread machinery of the law started, withresults not in foresight except by Heaven. Before he had fairlyrecovered, Nilo had the sedan out and the poles fixed to it, and in themost cheerful, matter-of-fact manner signed him to take up the forwardends.

  "Where is the Greek?" the monk asked.

  That also the King managed to answer.

  "In the cistern--drowned!" exclaimed Sergius, converting the reply intowords.

  The King drew himself up proudly.

  "O Heavens! What will become of us?"

  The exclamation signified a curtain rising upon a scene of prosecutionagainst which the Christian covered his face with his hands.... AgainNilo brought him back to present duty.... In a short time Lael was inthe chair, and they bearing her off.

  Sergius set out first for Uel's house. The time was near morning; butfor the conflagration the indications of dawn might have been seen inthe east. He was not long in getting to understand the awfulness of thecalamity the city had suffered, and that, with thousands of others, thedwellings of Uel and the Prince of India were heaps of ashes on whichthe gale was expending its undiminished strength.

  What was to be done with Lael?

  This Sergius answered by leading the way to the town residence of thePrincess Irene. There the little Jewess was received, while he tookboat and hurried to Therapia.

  The Princess came down, and under her roof, Lael found sympathy, rest,and safety. In due time also Uel's last testament reached her, with thepurse of jewels left by the Prince of India, and she then assumedguardianship of the bereaved girl.