The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia
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of her wrath; and notbeing, in reality, ill-natured; saw it was useless opposing an affair,which was, indeed, no business of hers. She therefore turned away for afew minutes, during which time Thaddeus snatched a parting embrace fromhis mistress, drawing a promise from her to meet him again on the nextday.
When the old nurse returned, the intruder, much to her satisfaction, wasgone. Ina then entered the anderoon, when Zara, throwing aside theembroidery she was engaged on, sprang forward to meet her.
"Dear Ina," she exclaimed, "I feared some other danger had befallen you,that you returned not before."
"No danger could happen to me where I went," answered Ina; "I was safefrom every harm. So lovely an evening to wander out!" she added, with alittle pardonable deceit. "I wonder you can bear to be so shut up."
"I, too, should like to wander out to breathe the air of evening,"answered Zara; "but old Kahija will not hear of it."
"What is that you say?" said the old nurse entering. "What! are youtrying to teach Zara to follow your own wild customs? But you will notsucceed; she is too good a girl to wish to do any thing of the sort.When she marries young Alp Beg, she may do what she can; but she will beshut up close enough then; and so will you, Ina, if you marry a truebeliever, instead of one of these heathen countrymen of ours."
Happy were the slumbers of Ina that night as she laid her face upon herpillow. She dreamed that again she trod the sacred grove with him sheloved--that again she heard his voice speaking those magic words whichchanged her very being--she felt the pressure of his hand in hers--andshe saw the moon rise amidst the trees, the witness of their love.
Volume 3, Chapter VI.
Perfect tranquillity reigned in the valley of Abran Bashi, far removedfrom the loud tocsin of war which hung round the borders, though newsoccasionally arrived of skirmishes with the Moscov, and sometimes awounded warrior would come to be recovered by the care of his family.
At times, too, wailing and weeping was heard, when a family receivedintelligence of some dear relation having fallen in the fight; or a sadtrain would pass through the valley, accompanying the corpse of somenoble, borne on his war-steed, who had lost his life in one of the manyuseless attacks which were at that time made on the Russian lines; morefor bravado, and for the sake of exhibiting bravery and fearlessness ofconsequences--the characteristic of the Circassian warrior--than for anyadvantage to be gained.
Notwithstanding the predictions of the old chief, Thaddeus began to hopethat the Khan, Khoros Kaloret, had foregone all farther attempts tocarry off Ina; and, being ignorant by what hand his clansman had fallen,he would be unable to fix his revenge on any one. Thus all dread ofevil consequences left his mind; and even Ina no longer feared to renewher rambles under his protection beyond even her former limits, thoughsure of receiving a severe lecture from old Kahija after eachtransgression.
We have as yet given but a slight sketch of her beautiful friend, theyoung Zara: she was like a sweet rose-bud, fresh and blooming, ere thefirst rays of the morning sun have dissipated the crystal dew; acomplete child of nature. Brought up in that secluded valley, she knewnought of the world beyond the lofty mountains that surrounded it.Within that spot all her thoughts and hopes had been concentrated; sheloved her pure streams, her verdant fields, and her shady groves, andgrateful to the kind nature who placed her there; she was happy andcontented, and would have felt miserable at the idea of leaving them,undazzled even by old Kahija's descriptions of the gorgeous Stamboul.Her character was pure as her own sweet face; she seemed formed for loveand tenderness alone, unfit to buffet with the cares and troubles of theworld. Like a delicate plant, requiring some strong tree round which toentwine its slender tendrils, to gain strength and support from it. Hertemper was sweet and amiable to all; and even old Kahija's lecturesfailed to ruffle her. Dutiful and obedient to her only remainingparent, she tended him in sickness with the most gentle and unremittingcare; and dearly in return did the old chief love his little Zara.
Her features were soft and feminine as her character; she wasbeautifully fair; her delicate auburn locks hung over her swan-like neckin rich profusion, her large eyes of purest blue were shaded by darklashes, adding to their tender and languishing glance, while a smileplaying round her ruby lips, betokened a happy and contented heart. Herfigure, though equally graceful, was shorter and fuller than herfriend's; but none could deem it otherwise than perfect.
Such seemed the fair young being who had bestowed all her pure and warmaffections on the gallant and youthful warrior, Alp Beg, and truly didhe prize the treasured girl he had won.
He had been loved from his childhood by her grandfather for his courageand activity in all manly sports, and now gladly did the old chiefaccord his sanction to their union, which he had arranged with the Hadjibefore his departure for the camp. As yet the fair girl knew not thather hopes were to be fulfilled, for though Alp had found time to whisperhis love, neither knew that their parents would give their sanction totheir marriage; and often would sad forebodings for the future cross herotherwise tranquil mind, fears that their union might be forbid, or thathe might be snatched from her by the cruel Urus.
The two fair girls were seated on an ottoman in the anderoon, while Inaworked a belt with golden thread, her first gift to Thaddeus. Zarastruck the cords of her lute.
How sweet and thrilling was her voice, as she sang the following simpleballad:--
The sun shone like glittering gold on the lake, While softly the breeze through the green forest play'd; The birds sang their gay notes from rock and from brake, And sweet odours sprung from each flowery glade; There was heard too a fountain's light murmuring voice, And nature in smiles seemed with glee to rejoice.
Though nature was smiling, yet sorrow was nigh, For near a pure stream, 'neath a green willow's shade, With her quick panting bosom, a bright weeping eye, There stood, trembling with fear, a fair Atteghei maid, As a gallant youth, pressing her form in his arms, Sought, with love's parting kisses, to calm her alarms.
Mid the clustering forest his charger stood near. And, his streaming mane tossing, was stamping the ground; His squire was holding his buckler and spear, While from far off came booming the cannon's deep sound. One more agonised pang, and he tore him away, And mounted his war-steed to join the affray,
But as slowly he rode through the green leafy wood, With a lingering pace he oft turned his fond gaze, To cast one more glance where his lov'd maiden stood, Till soon she was hid by the thick forest maze; Then, spurring his charger with speed o'er the lee, Soon with fear did the foemen his dancing crest see.
Like the willow which gracefully bent o'er the stream. The maiden stood tremb'ling and drooping with grief, Like the dew of the morn did those precious drops seem, When the bright sun-beams play on the spark'ling green leaf. Ah! cruel the war that could make her thus mourn! Ah! sad 'twas to leave that sweet maiden forlorn!
Then rising, she clomb o'er the mountain so high, And she look'd o'er the hill and she look'd down the vale; Saw joyous in fancy his gay banner fly, When her ear caught the sound of a funeral wail. Through the glen, as advancing with mournful slow tread, A train bore the bier of a warrior dead.
Then fearful and fleet as the chas'd deer she flew, Down the steep mountain's side, over chasm and brake. For well the bright arms of her hero she knew; Not the whirlwind's swift course could her flight overtake. Then she threw herself down her slain lover beside; She sigh'd not, she wept not, but heart-broken died.
As she finished, tears stood in her eyes, and her voice trembled at thelast lines.
"Why sing you that mournful ditty, dear Zara?" said her friend. "It istoo sad for one, whose eye sorrow has not dimmed, to sing."
"I know not why I sing it," answered Zara; "but I could not help it, thewords came flowing to my lips."
"Who taught you so sad an air?" asked Ina.
"A venerable bard who travelled once this way. His steps w
ere feeble,and his locks were blanched with years, and, as he rested at our househe sang this air, gazing sorrowfully at my face, and made me learn thesewords, I know not why. He went his way, nor ever have I seen him since:but still, at times, a sadness comes upon me, and I sing this song."
A deep-drawn sob was heard from the corner of the apartment where theyoung Conrin had thrown himself on a divan.
"Come hither, Conrin," said Ina, in tones of kindness. He had beenweeping; for his eyes were red and his features wore an air of sadness.
"Why do you weep, dear Conrin? What makes you thus sorrowful?"
"Sad thoughts and feelings," answered the page. "I have much to make meweep: but it was that song overcame me. I wept for the sad forebodingsthat it brought upon my soul, for myself I care not, but for