SANGUINE STILL
When the Prince Imar's tale was told, and I thought of all he had been
through, I could not find it in my heart, or even in good manners, to
crave explanation of certain points which had not been made quite clear
to me. For any such inquiry might appear to proceed from a hankering to
hear more about his darling daughter. He had enjoyed, beyond our chance,
a quantity of romantic love; and though he might not be hard on mine,
remembering his own tender time, and allowing for like state in others,
on the other hand that lesson might have taught him how to look at this,
before it went too far to stop. And it is not in the gift of men, or at
least of such as I am, to be certain how a brother man may take what
seems so clear to self. But while I was buried in these thoughts, he
spoke again quite cheerfully, and as if he had understood them all, but
would not blame me for them.
"From what I have said, you will perceive that I have now two things to
think of. The first, and dearest, is my own child, the daughter of the
blameless wife, whom I lost through my own madness. The other is my duty
towards the people who have been so true to me; who can be raised by one
who knows them, to a better and more peaceful life, and the first
condition of happiness the rule of Christianity. We have had the name
for ages; but we have never known the meaning; of which you too must
wait to learn till sorrow has washed the eyes of pride.
"That vile blood-feud, the curse of the mountains, the cause of a myriad
murders, could not exist if we were more than mere ticket-porters of the
cross. Therefore I am doing my best, without aid of your good societies,
which would get into trouble with Russia at once, to print 10,000
copies of the New Testament, in the Lesghian tongue. In a short time now
my period of exile, fourteen years, will expire; and the rest of my life
will be given up to the spread of good-will amongst us. Thus alone can I
hope to have done some good to balance my evil deeds. But the difficulty
of the thing is this. Not a man in a hundred of us can read, and perhaps
not a woman of all the race. To meet this I am preparing primers,
horn-books, alphabets, all the rudiments; and I shall set up a school in
every village. It is too much for one short life, but at least I can
begin it, and when once begun, it will go on, for the Russians will not
stop me. The Russians have been very good to me, and they hate the rule
of Islam, which is warlike and implacable. The Commander of the Caucasus
is a man of great humanity. If he could have done as he liked, I should
have received at once a free pardon; and as it is, my revenues have
never been confiscated. He knows that I would be the last to attempt or
join in another insurrection. There never was a chance, since time
began, of a great Caucasian nation. We are split into about seventy
tribes, and each loathes all the others. Young as I was, when I joined
Shamyl, the folly of it was clear to me; and my father perished not by a
foreign but a neighbour's hand, as usual. That may be my fate also,
especially when I attempt reforms. But if so, I shall have done my best
to redeem a life of violence."
As I looked at him, I could wonder no more that Dariel thought so little
of all other men compared with him. Here was a man, one might well
believe, who never knew what fear was, suspicion, falsehood, meanness,
envy, or even the love of money. It had been the sense of justice only,
and no greed or jealousy, which had led him to reject the demand of
Rakhan, his father's murderer; whence all the disasters of his life
ensued. And it seemed to me that if ever there had lived a man of honour
and kind heart, who deserved the favour of Heaven and the reverence of
his fellows, it was this man long oppressed by some mysterious curse of
destiny.
My voice was trembling with something more than regard for my own
interests, when I fetched him back from his great ideas, which were
ever so far above my scope, to the matter which concerned me most.
"Sûr Imar, I am quite small of mind, and would rather receive than do
good things. And of all the blessings of the blessed world, you know the
one that I value most." He smiled a little, for his face was always
ready to yield to gentle turns.
"My friend, I know what your desire is. You want to rob me of my one
delight. But I feel myself safe for a long while yet. I rely upon many
obstacles. In the first place, will your own discretion and judgment
bear you out in wishing, even if you had my consent, to connect yourself
with a race of such dark fortunes and sad calamities, and crimes as
well--for crimes they are? And perhaps there are more before us. I have
told you my tale, to show you this. I believe not of course in any
heathen conceptions--Até, Nemesis, Ananché, or what not? But who can
deny that there is an inheritance of evil quite beyond our power to
explain?"
"That may be so. But my one prayer is to be allowed to risk such
penalty."
"You speak like an Englishman," he answered, looking at me very gravely;
"other men equally brave would decline, through the force of
superstition. But I have only begun my objections yet. For instance,
what would your own friends have to say about this question? You have
not mentioned it yet, I suppose, as nothing was likely to come of it.
But without that, you must know pretty nearly how your friends would
take it."
I answered in so many words that they left me to follow my own judgment
now; that while things continued as they were, it would be wrong of me
to forsake them, as they could never get on without me; but that a
change for the better might be expected now with all confidence, for
England was sick of that farce so ridiculously called "free-trade," and
then the land might feed her sons again, instead of giving them nothing
but a weedy grave.
"It is the standing joke of Europe," he replied; "there is nothing to
compare with it in history. Your benevolence is of the highest order,
because so purely unconscious. But it will require another generation to
restore your sanity, unless you have a war that blocks your supplies;
and then how simple! That man who can fast for forty days may challenge
the nation, when war is declared, and outlive them all, though they eat
all they can get. But let me not interrupt you."
What is the loaf compared to love? The dealers and the middlemen have
the chief pull of the former. Turn me into a Radical, if the labourer
gets an ounce the more for his fourpence, than he often did of old, when
his right hand stood him in good stead, and his Saturday night was
certain. But a foreigner is allowed to show the common-sense, which an
Englishman is hooted down for hinting.
"We shall never be as we were," I said, "we shall always be poor, Sûr
Imar. And I am only a younger son. If it is your duty to repel me for
that reason, I have nothing more to say."
"We will not part like this," he answered, feigning, as every man should
do, to be blind when another man is moved; "there are many things in
your way, my friend; but I will not make the worst of them. You have my
respect and liking, which I do not give to every one. But in spite of
all I have gone through or perhaps by reason of it, I have some romance
about me still. You say that you love my daughter, and I thoroughly
believe it. But does she love you?"
"I have no reason to think so yet. What right have I to hope for it? She
is far above me in every way. But if you do not forbid me--why I could
try--I could try my best, you know."
It was almost more than he could do to look with becoming gravity at the
sadly waning phase of hope depicted on my countenance. He smiled,
because he could not help it. And I smiled, to keep time with him.
"You are honest, at any rate," he said, "and that you have been from
first to last. Of English modes of wooing, I know nothing; and they are
not like ours. But this strikes me as an unusual thing; though perhaps
all you ask is what you would call 'a fair field and no favour.' You
shall have it, as far as I am concerned; though I will not pledge myself
afterwards. But remember that in a month or so, we return to our native
mountains."
This was awful news to me; and I seemed to have no fair chance left.
Moreover I felt very deep alarm concerning that Prince Hafer, Dariel's
cousin, about whom I had heard so much, and of whom I had seen too much
already. Was he the son of that terrible woman, Marva--Sûr Imar's
sister--and that hateful man, and horrible plotter, Rakhan, Prince of
the Ossets? I had longed to ask his Uncle Imar for more particulars,
about him, and especially what he was doing here, but my courage had
failed me on that point. Alas that he was no longer dumb; and if he had
fallen 200 feet in his childhood, no wonder that he could jump 10 now;
for Nature always strives towards a balance. And if he could not jump 10
feet in height (which perhaps is more than any man even of the mountains
has achieved), it was plain enough that he would prove a very awkward
customer, whenever my sense of the gross injustice inflicted by his
presence should urge me to attempt by hand or foot his desirable
removal. But one thing I might ask, as I thought, without showing any
impertinence, or reviving painful memories.
"Your sister, the Princess Marva, sir? I hope she continued to show
good-will, and afforded you some comfort before you were banished from
Daghestan. She herself remains there, I suppose?"
"Not in Daghestan, but in Ossetia, which lies to the west of the great
Russian road that marks the division of the Mountain-range. No, I cannot
say that she showed any sisterly feeling towards me, except the true
sorrow for my child of which I spoke; and perhaps no woman who witnessed
a scene of such distress could have helped being touched. But when I
heard of her tender behaviour, and remembered that old scruples were
partly removed by the death of the offender, I sent her all that she
could claim, and much more, of her inheritance in goods and chattels.
But it is impossible for her, as long as she continues Rakhan's widow,
to show much affection for me, though I may hope that she has it in her
heart. For unhappily that most fiendish and accursed institution, which
I hope to begin to extirpate, by the spread of the Gospel and of
education--the blood-feud is set up between us. By marriage she is an
Osset, and among the Ossets she holds sway, like a petty Queen almost.
Although she cannot have any vindictive feelings against me, after all
her husband's behaviour to both of us, she must respect their customs,
and not show herself too friendly. Therefore I take it as unusually kind
and good on her part, that knowing how soon my time expires, she has
sent her only son, Prince Hafer, to congratulate me, and to offer an
ancient residence or Court-house of the Ossets, which stands very
conveniently, for us to occupy on our return, till Karthlos (which is in
a sad condition) can be put into good repair. That I call a true
extension of the olive-branch; and it is the more remarkable to one who
knows as I do that this infernal code, for I can call it nothing else,
is supposed to be doubly binding when it inures betwixt near relatives.
Blessed are they that never heard of it. No flight of time, no acts of
kindness, no natural affections avail against it."
"It is horrible indeed," I said, "and nothing can be more un-English. We
are the most sensible race in the world, as well as the most
straightforward. 'Have it out and be done with it,' is our rule; no
steel, no lead, no poison; but a fight with what the Lord has made."
"You also have your brutality, I fear. But it is not my place to talk of
that, after all the kindness I have received among you. And you are wide
awake to all your own virtues, so that I need not insist upon them. Is
there anything more you would ask me?"
"Nothing, Sûr Imar. And I may have seemed to trespass already on your
patience. But I have a brother who is wonderfully clever in all
mechanical and chemical affairs. May I bring him to see your
type-stamping process, and other beautiful devices? They are out of my
line altogether; but he would appreciate all of them. And more than that
he is gifted, as you are, with the faculty of languages. He is the
genius, and I the dunce. May he come? He has nothing to do with the
Press, and will not even talk of what he sees."
"It will give me great pleasure to see such a man;" my host replied most
courteously. "There is no secrecy about my work, beyond this--if your
journals spoke of it--and they speak of even smaller matters--it might
get into some Russian paper, and my little ideas would be quenched at
once. Russia does not encourage education, outside her own narrow
grooves. But if I could only begin unforbidden, probably I might go on
for years. You see how sanguine I am still."
"And your nephew will be of great service, no doubt, as his mother is so
friendly. In his early days he had no power of speech I think you told
me. But that comes sometimes rather late in life."
"I do not think that I spoke about it; because I had no knowledge. His
father mentioned it in that fatal letter. But before I left the
mountains I was told that an operation at Tiflis had relieved the child
of the tongue-tie; and now he seems to be in many ways a fine specimen
of the Caucasus. He cannot speak your language well, though he has
picked up a little of it, and he is not very fond of your nation. But if
your brother is a linguist, possibly he might get on with him. And I
should like to try the experiment. When will you bring your brother? But
tell him not the story of my life, as I have told it to you. It is a
thing I never speak of, without a special reason."
"You may depend upon me, Sûr Imar; I know the favour you have done me,
and the reason for it. There are few who would have gone through so much
pain, for the sake of almost a stranger. But I know not when I can bring
Harold. He is a most uncertain fellow. Nobody can ever tell where to
find him. He says it is the beauty of his character. But I hope that I
may come before he does; or it will be a bad look-out for me."
"You may come to see me every day, my friend, and I shall be pleased to
see you. But if you meet Hafer, be on your guard. He has the rough
manners of the mountains still, and has not seen the world, as I have."
Thus I was obliged to leave it. Not at all to my liking; yet with no
right to complain of any one. This Lesghian Chief had laid me under a
very great obligation, by overcoming for my sake his natural reluctance
to recall a past so full of pain, and in such bitter contrast with the
present conditions of his life. As a nation we make little of the debt
which a foreigner incurs to the hospitality of England. The guest,
moreover, is too graceful ever to inflict on us the pain of seeing him
overwhelmed with gratitude. But this Lesghian Chief had formed what was
perhaps a romantic view of the greatness of our policy, and a liking for
us which is, I fear, by no means universal. This I hoped to work with
diligence for my own advantage; as our Government used to do, as long as
it still subsisted.