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

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER III

  MIRZA DOES AN ERRAND FOR MAHOMMED

  Vegetation along the Bosphorus was just issuing from what may be calledits budded state. In the gardens and protected spots on the Europeanside white and yellow winged butterflies now and then appeared withoutlighting, for as yet there was nothing attractive enough to keep them.Like some great men of whom we occasionally hear, they were in theworld before their time. In other words the month of May was about aweek old, and there was a bright day to recommend it--bright, only alittle too much tinctured with March and April to be all enjoyable. Theearth was still spongy, the water cold, the air crisp, and the sundeceitful.

  About ten o'clock in the morning Constantinopolitans lounging on thesea-wall were surprised by explosive sounds from down the Marmora.Afterwhile they located them, so to speak, on a galley off St.Stephano. At stated intervals, pale blue smoke would burst from thevessel, followed by a hurry-skurry of gulls in the vicinity, and thenthe roar, muffled by distance. The age of artillery had not yetarrived; nevertheless, cannon were quite well known to fame.Enterprising traders from the West had sailed into the Golden Horn withsamples of the new arm on their decks; they were of such rudeconstruction as to be unfit for service other than saluting. [Footnote:Cannon were first made of hooped iron, widest at the mouth. The processof casting them was just coming in.] So, now, while the idlers on thewall were not alarmed, they were curious to make out who theextravagant fellows were, and waited for the flag to tell them.

  The stranger passed swiftly, firing as it went; and as the canvas wasnew and the hull freshly painted in white, it rode the waves toappearances a very beautiful "thing of life;" but the flag told nothingof its nationality. There were stripes on it diagonally set, green,yellow, and red, the yellow in the middle.

  "The owners are not Genoese"--such was the judgment on the wall.

  "No, nor Venetian, for that is not a lion in the yellow."

  "What, then, is it?"

  Pursued thus, the galley, at length rounding Point Serail (Demetrius),turned into the harbor. When opposite the tower of Galata, a lastsalute was fired from her deck; then the two cities caught up theinterest, and being able to make out decisively that the sign in theyellow field of the flag was but a coat-of-arms, they said emphatically:

  "It is not a national ship--only a great Lord;" and thereupon thequestion became self-inciting:

  "Who is he?"

  Hardly had the anchor taken hold in the muddy bed of the harbor infront of the port of Blacherne, before a small boat put off from thestrange ship, manned by sailors clad in flowing white trousers, shortsleeveless jackets, and red turbans of a style remarkable foramplitude. An officer, probably the sailing-master, went with them, andhe, too, was heavily turbaned. A gaping crowd on the landing receivedthe visitor when he stepped ashore and asked to see the captain of theguard. To that dignitary he delivered a despatch handsomely envelopedin yellow silk, saying, in imperfect Greek:

  "My Lord, just arrived, prays you to read the enclosure, and send itforward by suitable hand. He trusts to your knowledge of what theproprieties require. He will await the reply on his galley."

  The sailing-master saluted profoundly, resumed seat in his boat, andstarted back to the ship, leaving the captain of the guard to open theenvelope and read the communication, which was substantially as follows:

  "From the galley, St. Agostino, May 5, Year of our Blessed Saviour,1451.

  "The undersigned is a Christian Noble of Italy, more particularly fromhis strong Castle Corti on the eastern coast of Italy, near the ancientcity of Brindisi. He offers lealty to His Most Christian Majesty, theEmperor of Constantinople, Defender of the Faith according to thecrucified Son of God (to whom be honor and praise forevermore), andhumbly represents that he is a well-knighted soldier by profession,having won his spurs in battle, and taken the accolade from the hand ofCalixtus the Third, Bishop of Rome, and, yet more worthily, HisHoliness the Pope: that the time being peaceful in his country, exceptas it was rent by baronial feuds and forays not to his taste, he leftit in search of employment and honors abroad; that he made thepilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre first, and secured there a number ofprecious relics, which he is solicitous of presenting to His ImperialMajesty; that from long association with the Moslems, whom Heaven, inits wisdom impenetrable to the understanding of men, permits to profanethe Holy Land with their presence and wicked guardianship, he acquireda speaking knowledge of the Arabic and Turkish languages; that heengaged in warfare against those enemies of God, having the powerfulsanction therefor of His Holiness aforesaid, by whose direction heoccupied himself chiefly with chastising the Berber pirates of Tripoli,from whom he took prisoners, putting them at his oars, where some ofthem now are. With the august city of Byzantium he has been acquaintedmany years through report, and, if its fame be truly published, hedesires to reside in it, possibly to the end of his days. Wherefore hepresumes to address this his respectful petition, praying itssubmission to His Most Christian Majesty, that he may be assured if theproposal be agreeable to the royal pleasure, and in the meantime havequiet anchorage for his galley.

  UGO, COUNT CORTI."

  In the eyes of the captain of the guard the paper was singular, butexplicit; moreover, the request seemed superfluous, considering thelaxity prevalent with respect to the coming and going of persons of allnativities and callings. To be sure, trade was not as it used to be,and, thanks to the enterprise and cunning of the Galatanese across theharbor, the revenues from importations were sadly curtailed; still theold city had its markets, and the world was welcome to them. Theargument, however, which silenced the custodian's doubt was, that ofthe few who rode to the gates in their own galleys and kept them thereready to depart if their reception were in the least chilling, how manysigned themselves as did this one? Italian counts were famous fighters,and generally had audiences wherever they knocked. So he concluded tosend the enclosure up to the Palace without the intermediation of theHigh Admiral, a course which would at least save time.

  While the affair is thus pending, we may return to Count Corti, and sayan essential word or two of him.

  The cannon, it is to be remarked, was not the only novelty of thegalley. Over the stern, where the aplustre cast its shadow in ordinarycrafts, there was a pavilion-like structure, high-raised, flat-roofed,and with small round windows in the sides. Quite likely the progressiveship-builders at Palos and Genoa would have termed the new feature acabin. It was beyond cavil an improvement; and on this occasion theproprietor utilized it as he well might. Since the first gun off St.Stephano, he had held the roof, finding it the best position to get andenjoy a view of the capital, or rather of the walls and crownedeminences they had so long and all-sufficiently defended. A chair hadbeen considerately brought up and put at his service, but in witness ofthe charm the spectacle had for him from the beginning, he did not onceresort to it.

  If only to save ourselves description of the man, and rescue him from acharge of intrusion into the body of our story, we think it better totake the reader into confidence at once, and inform him that CountCorti is in fact our former acquaintance Mirza, the Emir of the Hajj.The difference between his situation now, and when we first had sightof him on his horse under the yellow flag in the valley of Zaribah isremarkable; yet he is the same in one particular at least--he was inarmor then, and he is still in armor--that is, he affects the samevisorless casque, with its cape of fine rings buckled under the chin,the same shirt and overalls of pliable mail, the same shoes oftransverse iron scales working into each other telescopically when thefeet are in movement, the same golden spurs, and a surcoat in everyparticular like the Emir's, except it is brick-dust red instead ofgreen. And this constancy in armor should not be accounted a vanity; itwas a habit acquired in the school of arms which graduated him, andwhich he persisted in partly for the inurement, and partly as a mark ofrespect for Mahommed, with whom the gleam and clink of steel wellfashioned and gracefully worn was a passion, out of which he evolved asuite rivalling those kins
men of the Buccleuch who--

  "--quitted not their harness bright, Neither by day nor yet by night."

  Returning once again. It was hoped when Mirza was first introduced thatevery one who might chance to spend an evening over these pages wouldperceive the possibilities he prefigured, and adopt him as a favorite;wherefore the interest may be more pressing to know what he, anIslamite supposably without guile, a Janissary of rank, lately so highin his master's confidence, is doing here, offering lealty to the MostChristian Emperor, and denouncing the followers of the Prophet asenemies of God. The appearances are certainly against him.

  The explanation due, if only for coherence in our narrative, would beclearer did the reader review the part of the last conversation in theWhite Castle between the Prince of India and Mahommed, in which thelatter is paternally advised to study the Greek capital, and keephimself informed of events within its walls. Yet, inasmuch as there isa current in reading which one once fairly into is loath to be pushedout of, we may be forgiven for quoting a material passage or two...."There is much for my Lord to do"--the Prince says, speaking to hisnoble eleve. "It is for him to think and act as if Constantinople werehis capital temporarily in possession of another.... It is for him tolearn the city within and without; its streets and edifices; its hillsand walls; its strong and weak places; its inhabitants, commerce,foreign relations; the character of its ruler, his resources andpolicies; its daily events; its cliques, clubs, and religious factions;especially is it for him to foment the differences Latin and Greekalready a fire which has long been eating out to air in an inflammablehouse."... Mahommed, it will be recollected, acceded to the counsel,and in discussing the selection of a person suitable for the secretagency, the Prince said: ... "He who undertakes it should enterConstantinople and live there above suspicion. He must be crafty,intelligent, courtly in manner, accomplished in arms, of high rank, andwith means to carry his state bravely; for not only ought he to beconspicuous in the Hippodrome; he should be welcome in the salons andpalaces; along with other facilities, he must be provided to buyservice in the Emperor's bedroom and council chamber--nay, at hiselbow. Mature of judgment, it is of prime importance that he possess myLord's confidence unalterably."... And when the ambitious Turkdemanded: "The man, Prince, the man!"--the wily tutor responded: "MyLord has already named him."--"I?"--"Only to-night my Lord spoke of himas a marvel."--"Mirza?"... The Jew then proceeded: "Despatch him toItaly; let him appear in Constantinople, embarked from a galley,habited like an Italian, and with a suitable Italian title. He speaksItalian already, is fixed in his religion, and in knightly honor. Notall the gifts at the despot's disposal, nor the blandishments ofsociety can shake his allegiance--he worships my Lord."...

  Mahommed demurred to the proposal, saying: "So has Mirza become a partof me, I am scarcely myself without him."

  Now he who has allowed himself to become interested in the bright youngEmir, and pauses to digest these excerpts, will be aware of a graveconcern for him. He foresees the outcome of the devotion to Mahommeddwelt upon so strongly by the Prince of India. An order to undertakethe secret service will be accepted certainly as it is given. The veryassurance that it will be accepted begets solicitude in the affair. DidMahommed decide affirmatively? What were the instructions given? Havingthus settled the coherences, we move on with the narrative.

  It will be remembered, further, that close after the departure of thePrincess Irene from the old Castle, Mahommed followed her to Therapia,and, as an Arab story-teller, was favored with an extended privateaudience in which he extolled himself to her at great length, andactually assumed the role of a lover. What is yet more romantic, hecame away a lover in fact.

  The circumstance is not to be lightly dismissed, for it was ofimmeasurable effect upon the fortunes of the Emir, and--if we can beexcused for connecting an interest so stupendous with one socomparatively trifling--the fate of Constantinople. Theretofore theTurk's ambition had been the sole motive of his designs against thatcity, and, though vigorous, driving, and possibly enough of itself tohave pushed him on, there might yet have been some delay in theachievement. Ambition derived from genius is cautious in its firstmovements, counts the cost, ponders the marches to be made and themeans to be employed, and is at times paralyzed by the simplecontemplation of failure; in other words, dread of loss of glory is notseldom more powerful than the hope of glory. After the visit toTherapia, however, love reenforced ambition; or rather the two passionspossessed Mahommed, and together they murdered his sleep. He becameimpatient and irritable; the days were too short, the months too long.Constantinople absorbed him. He thought of nothing else waking, anddreamed of nothing else. Well for him his faith in astrology, for by itthe Prince of India was able to hold him to methodic preparation.

  There were times when he was tempted to seize the Princess, and carryher off. Her palace was undefended, and he had but to raid it at night.Why not? There were two reasons, either of them sufficient: first, thestern old Sultan, his father, was a just man, and friendly to theEmperor Constantine; but still stronger, and probably the deterrent infact, he actually loved the Princess with a genuine romantic sentiment,her happiness an equal motive--loved her for herself--a thing perfectlyconsistent, for in the Oriental idea there is always One the Highest.

  Now, it was very lover-like in Mahommed, his giving himself up tothought of the Princess while gliding down the Bosphorus, after leavinghis safeguard on her gate. He closed his eyes against the mellow lighton the water, and, silently admitting her the perfection of womanhood,held her image before him until it was indelible in memory--face,figure, manner, even her dress and ornaments--until his longing for herbecame a positive hunger of soul.

  As if to give us an illustration of the mal-apropos in coincidence, hisaugust father had selected a bride for him, and he was on the road toAdrianople to celebrate the nuptials when he stopped at the WhiteCastle. The maiden chosen was of a noble Turkish family, but harem bornand bred. She might be charming, a very queen in the Seraglio; but,alas! the kinswoman of the Christian Emperor had furnished a glimpse ofattractions which the fiancee to whom he was going could neverattain--attractions of mind and manner more lasting than those of mereperson; and as he finished the comparison, he beat his breast, andcried out: "Ah, the partiality of the Most Merciful! To clothe thisGreek with all the perfections, and deny her to me!"

  Withal, there was a method in Mahommed's passion. Setting his facesternly against violating his own safeguard by abducting the Princess,he fell into revision of her conversation; and then a light broke inupon him--a light and a road to his object.

  He recalled with particularity her reply to the message delivered toher, supposably from himself, containing his avowal that he loved herthe more because she was a Christian, and singled out of it thesewords: ... "A wife I might become, not from temptation of gain orpower, or in surrender to love--I speak not in derision of the passion,since, like the admitted virtues, it is from God--nay, Sheik, inillustration of what may otherwise be of uncertain meaning to him, tellPrince Mahommed I might become his wife could I, by so doing, save orhelp the religion I profess."

  This he took to pieces.... "'She might become a wife.' Good!... 'Shemight become my wife'--on condition.... What condition?" ... He beathis breast again, this time with a laugh.

  The rowers looked at him in wonder. What cared he for them? He haddiscovered a way to make her his.... "Constantinople is the GreekChurch," he muttered, with flashing eyes. "I will take the city for myown glory--to her then the glory of saving the Church! On toConstantinople!"

  And from that moment the fate of the venerable metropolis may be saidto have been finally sealed.

  Within an hour after his return to the White Castle, he summoned Mirza,and surprised him by the exuberance of his joy. He threw his arm overthe Emir's shoulder, and walked with him, laughing and talking, like aman in wine. His nature was of the kind which, for the escape offeeling, required action as well as words. At length he sobered down.

  "Here, Mirza," he s
aid. "Stand here before me.... Thou lovest me, Ibelieve?"

  Mirza answered upon his knee: "My Lord has said it."

  "I believe thee.... Rise and take pen and paper, and write, standinghere before me." [Footnote: A Turkish calligraphist works on his feetas frequently as on a chair, using a pen made of reed and India inkreduced to fluid.]

  From a table near by the materials were brought, and the Emir, againupon his knees, wrote as his master dictated.

  The paper need not be given in full. Enough that it covered withuncommon literalness--for the Conqueror's memory was prodigious--thesuggestions of the Prince of India already quoted respecting the dutiesof the agent in Constantinople. While writing, the Emir was variouslymoved; one instant, his countenance was deeply flushed, and in the nextvery pale; sometimes his hand trembled. Mahommed meantime kept closewatch upon him, and now he asked:

  "What ails thee?"

  "My Lord's will is my will," was the answer--"yet"--

  "Out--speak out."

  "My Lord is sending me from him, and I dread losing my place at hisright hand."

  Mahommed laughed heartily.

  "Lay the fear betime," he then said, gravely. "Where thou goest, thoughout of reach of my right hand, there will my thought be. Hear--nay, atmy knee."

  He laid the hand spoken of on Mirza's shoulder, and stooped towardshim. "Ah, my Saladin, thou wert never in love, I take it? Well--I am.Look not up now, lest--lest thou think my bearded cheek hath changed toa girl's."

  Mirza did not look up, yet he knew his master was blushing.

  "Where thou goest, I would give everything but the sword of Othman tobe every hour of the day, for she abideth there.... I see a ring on thyhand--the ruby ring I gave thee the day thou didst unhorse theuncircumcised deputy of Hunyades. Give it back to me. 'Tis well. See, Iplace it on the third finger of my left hand. They say whoever lookethat her is thenceforth her lover. I caution thee, and so long as thisruby keepeth color unchanged, I shall know thou art keeping honorbright with me--that thou lovest her, because thou canst not help it,yet for my sake, and because I love her.... Look up now, myfalcon--look up, and pledge me."

  "I pledge my Lord," Mirza answered.

  "Now I will tell thee. She is that kinswoman of the _Gabour_ EmperorConstantine whom we saw here the day of our arrival. Or didst thou seeher? I have forgotten."

  "I did not, my Lord."

  "Well, thou wilt know her at sight; for in grace and beauty I think shemust be a daughter of the houri this moment giving immortal drink tothe beloved of Allah, even the Prophet."

  Mahommed changed his tone.

  "The paper and the pen."

  And taking them he signed the instructions, and the signature was thesame as that on the safeguard on the gate at Therapia.

  "There--keep it well; for when thou gettest to Constantinople, thouwilt become a Christian." He laughed again. "Mirza--the Mirza Mahommedswore by, and appointed keeper of his heart's secret--he a Christian!This will shift the sin of the apostasy to me."

  Mirza took the paper.

  "I have not chosen to write of the other matter. In what should it bewritten, if at all, except in my blood--so close is it to me?... Theseare the things I expect of thee. Art thou listening? She shall be tothee as thine eye. Advise me of her health, and where she goes; withwhom she consorts; what she does and says; save her from harm: does onespeak ill of her, kill him, only do it in my name--and forget not, O mySaladin!--as thou hopest a garden and a couch in Paradise--forget notthat in Constantinople, when I come, I am to receive her from thy handpeerless in all things as I left her to-day.... Thou hast my will alltold. I will send money to thy room to-night, and thou wilt leaveto-night, lest, being seen making ready in the morning, some idiotpursue thee with his wonder.... As thou art to be my other self, be itroyally. Kings never account to themselves.... Thou wantest now nothingbut this signet."

  From his breast he drew a large ring, its emerald setting graven withthe signature at the bottom of the instructions, and gave it to him.

  "Is there a Pacha or a Begler-bey, Governor of a city or a province,property of my father, who refuseth thy demand after showing him this,report him, and _Shintan_ will be more tolerable unto him than I, whenI have my own. It is all said. Go now.... We will speak of rewards whennext we meet.... Or stay! Thou art to communicate by way of thisCastle, and for that I will despatch a man to thee in Constantinople.Remember--for every word thou sendest me of the city, I look for two ofher.... Here is my hand." Mirza kissed it, and departed.