THE ESCAPE FROM THE HAREM.
On one of those soft and glorious nights such as occur so often
beneath the eastern skies, when there was no moon and yet a blaze of
light pouring down from the myriad of bright stars, that one would
not have missed the absence of the Queen of Night; the walks of the
Sultan's gardens, fragrant with flowers and sweet blossoms, were
drinking in of the dewy hour, still and silently, save at the point
where we once before introduced the person of Komel. The spot from
whence she had listened to that tender and dearly loved song of her
native valley, and nearly in the same place she sat now, again
evidently listening and expecting the coming of some person or
preconcerted signal.
On the extended branch of the nearest cypress hung the half-witted
boy by one arm, which he had cast over the limb, and from whence he
was now oscillating like a pendulum, his head hanging down upon his
breast, and the rest of his limbs as moveless seemingly, as though
he had hung there for months. It was one of the queer odd freaks
that he was so often performing, for what purpose no one knew, and
there he hung still, while the slave listened and cast anxious
glances at the stone wall that forms the sea side of the seraglio
gardens.
But no sound greeted her ears save the never ceasing babbling of the
fountains, and now and then the soft plaintive cry of some night
bird that, wakeful while most of the species slept, warbled its
notes to the stars. Once she thought she heard the muffled sound of
oars, and started to her feet, but the noise soon died away in the
distance, and she relapsed again into the same attitude of impatient
and anxious anticipation. Out from under the apparently drooping and
senseless eyelids of the idiot, a quick thoughtful glance was turned
upon her at every motion she made, but she knew it not, nor did she
turn towards the boy at all, while he still swung steadily as though
he had been bound by cords to the tree.
Once more she started, but it was a false alarm. The notes she had
heard were those of an instrument, played by some favorite of the
harem, who looked forth upon the night scene, and coupled its charms
with the notes of her lute.--But this too soon died away, and again
Komel breathed quick and anxiously as she sat there at midnight. The
guard on his rounds came past now, and she assumed a quiet and
careless air to avoid notice, while a soldier cast a wondering eye
at the idiot boy, and then strode on, with the barrel of his carbine
resting lazily in the hollow of his arm.
At this moment there swelled forth upon the night air the note of
that well remembered song. It was the preconcerted signal, and
springing to her feet, Komel stole quickly to that part of the
seraglio wall nearest the water. The idiot boy seemed to comprehend
the movement instantly, and to recognize the notes that he had heard
once before, and which had so affected the beautiful Circassian, nor
had she fairly reached the wall before he was close by her side. She
paused for a moment to smile kindly upon him and place her hand upon
his head, then turned to listen again.
The boy appeared to understand that something extraordinary was
going on, and became as nervous as possible. Now he darted off
towards the path where the sentinel had disappeared, and now came
back with a step as fleet as a deer, and as noiseless as a cat's.
But the scene soon changed by the appearance, above the wall, of the
head of Captain Selim, who, peering carefully around for a moment,
asked in a whispered tone:
"Lady, lady, are you there?"
"I am," replied Komel, cautiously, while the idiot crowded close to
her side.
"If I throw over this rope ladder, will you mount now to the top of
the wall?"
"Yes, O yes; let me get away from here quickly."
"Step away from the wall then for a moment," said the young officer,
and in an instant after a rope ladder made fast on the outer side,
was cast over to her.
"Are you ready, lady?"
"Yes."
"Then come quickly; don't pause for a moment in the ascent, lest you
be seen."
Komel thinking of nothing but release from her confinement in the
Sultan's household, and seeing in perspective her home and parents,
for the Armenian had promised that she should be taken thither,
sprang lightly up the tiny, but strong ladder of cord, and was soon
on the other side, the boy creeping after as she went. But just as
she had passed over the top and was descending on the other side,
leaving the idiot boy on the top beside of the young officer, who
stood so that his neck and head were above the level of the summit
of the wall, the sentinel again came down the path in sight of the
place and instantly discovered the whole affair, running with all
speed to the spot. The soldier dropped his carbine to seize and
detain the ladder, when a struggle ensued between him and the young
officer for its possession.
At this critical moment, the soldier seeming to recollect himself,
turned to raise his gun, either to shoot Selim or give the alarm; in
either case it would be equally fatal to the success of their
design. The boy had maintained his position during the brief
struggle, but the moment the guard turned to recover his carbine,
the half witted creature leaped from his high position directly upon
his back and neck and bore him to the ground. The weight of the
boy's body was sufficient to bring the soldier to the ground with
stunning effect and leave him nearly insensible.
Had this not been the case the boy's finger clutched the throat with
the power of a vice and the guard was as insensible as a dead man.
In the mean time, the young officer scarcely knowing what to make of
the opportune and sudden interference in his favor, drew up the
ladder on the other side and prepared to follow Komel, who was
already hurried by the Armenian nearly to the side of the boat that
waited there, and in the stern of which sat another person in charge
of the same. Komel looked back as she was joined by Captain Selim,
and asked:
"Where is the boy?"
"What boy?" said the Armenian, ignorant as to whom they referred.
"The half-witted pet of the Sultan's."
"I left him in the grounds," said Selim.--"The guard passed over the
ladder, but just as he was about to discharge his carbine, that boy
sprang upon him like a tiger, and I think he must have killed him,
for I saw the soldier lying on the ground insensible."
"That boy has been my best friend, I cannot bear to leave him."
"It would be madness to stop for anything now," replied the young
officer; and so they passed around to the spot where the boat was in
waiting, moored closed to the shore.
But let us look back for a moment at the scene on the other side of
the seraglio wall where we left the guard overcome by the boy. The
poor half witted child sat close beside the body, which was
perfectly inanimate. Now he looked up at the bright stars for an
instant, now at the still features of the guardsman, and then at the
spot where the slave had disappeared over the wall. His movements
were nervous and irregular, and he seemed to be trying to understand
something or to make up his mind upon some thought that had stolen
into his brain.
Suddenly he lifted his head, his eyes glowed like fire, and his
chest heaved like a woman's.--He scanned the wall for an instant,
then turning, retreated a few yards towards the centre of the
grounds. With a short start and a wild bound he was upon its top!
another leap carried him to the ground, and with the speed of a
horse he ran to the water's edge, just in time for Komel to stretch
out her hand and draw him on board the boat. He who sat in the stern
was muffled up, and his face could not be seen, but he started to
his feet at what seemed to him to be an intrusion; but a sign from
the Armenian put all to rights, and the boy coiled himself up like a
piece of rope at the feet of the fair girl.
Time was precious to them now, and Selim seizing one oar, the
Armenian pulled with another, while he in the stern steered the
caique quietly beneath the shade of the shore for some distance,
when her course was suddenly altered, and striking boldly across the
harbor, it was soon lost among the shipping at anchor.
A little adroitness, with cool courage, will often put all
calculations at fault, and thus had the plan for Komel's release
proved perfectly successful; thus had the Sultan been robbed of his
favorite slave from out the very walls that encircled his palace
grounds in spite of all his supposed security. Though it was very
plain that the whole affair came very near miscarrying at the time
when the guard appeared, and would perhaps have done so had the
fellow understood his duty and fired a shot at once, thus if not
shooting those engaged in this depredation upon the Sultan's
household, at least giving an alarm that would probably have
resulted in the arrest of all the parties concerned. But thanks to
the bravery and skill of the poor half-witted boy, all had gone
safely through, and now Komel found herself seated with the
beautiful Zillah in Selim's cabin, safe from all harm.
"So," said the Armenian, drawing a long breath after the unusual
exertion he had just experienced, "all is safe thus far. Now we must
expedite matters for you to embark in your own craft at once, and in
the mean time keep every thing close, especially the boy. He seems
so devoted to the girl that it would be too bad to part them, but if
he should be seen by any one he will be remembered, and it may lead
to detection at once."
"That is true," answered Selim; "but we have got all on board
without being observed even by the anchor watch."
"The Sultan will leave no means untried to detect the thief who has
stolen his fairest jewel," said the Armenian, "and his reward will
be so rich as to tempt the cupidity of every one, therefore be
cautious and trust none."
"I will not. At midnight to-morrow we must be on board the Petrel,
and at the most quiet moment slip her cable and drop quietly down
the coast with the night breeze, and if every thing is propitious,
we can get well away in the Black Sea before anything will be
suspected of us, and pursuit instituted."
"I shall feel the utmost anxiety until you are fairly away," said
the Armenian.
"We owe much to you," replied Selim.
Thus saying, the Armenian and Selim entered the cabin together,
where Zillah and Komel sat listening to each other's stories, and
fast coming to know each other better and better. Suddenly Komel
turned to Selim, and after acknowledging how much she already owed
him and the Armenian, said--
"There is one thing I meant to have asked you before."
"And what is that?"
"Who was it that sang that song beneath the seraglio walls?"
"The same notes that formed our signal to-night?" asked Selim.
"Yes."
"O, that was a young Circassian, who is on board here," was the
answer.
"But judging from the song he sang, he must be from my native
valley."
"Was it familiar to you?"
"As my mother's voice," answered Komel, with feeling. "It is a song
that one most dear to me has sung to me many a time, and when a few
nights since I heard it, I would have declared that it was his voice
again; but I knew him to be gone to a better land; the Sultan took
his life, alas! on my own account."
The Armenian looked at Selim, as much as to say, now for the
surprise, while the young officer seemed hesitating as to what he
should do next, when a noise was heard at the entrance of the cabin,
and in a moment after, he who had steered the boat, slipped within
and threw off the outer garment that had muffled him. All eyes were
turned upon him as he stood for a moment, when Komel exclaimed,
trembling as she said so:
"Is this a miracle, or do my eyes deceive me? that is--is--"
"Aphiz Adegah," said the Armenian, while an honest tear wet his
cheek.
"Komel!" murmured the young mountaineer, as he pressed her trembling
form to his breast.
All there knew their story, and could appreciate their feelings,
while not a word was spoken, to break the spell of so joyous a
meeting, the joy of such unhoped for bliss.
"The Sultan then deceived me," said Komel, suddenly recovering her
voice.
"He was himself deceived, and thinks me dead," replied Aphiz; "my
escape was miraculous."
"O, let us away at once from here," said Komel, anxiously; "the
Sultan's agent will surely trace us, and I should die to go back to
his harem again. Cannot we go at once?"
"Nay, have patience, my dear girl," said the Armenian, "our plans
have been carefully laid, and we shall hardly run a single risk of
detection or discovery if they are adhered to."
All this while, the half-witted boy lay coiled up in one corner of
the cabin unseen, but himself noticing every movement that
transpired, until as they all settled more quietly to a realizing
sense of their relative positions, when Komel seeking him brought
him to Aphiz, and told him how much she owed the poor boy for
kindness rendered to her, and even that he had saved her life once,
if not a second time, by his mastering the guard.
While the boy looked upon Komel as she spoke, his fine eye glowed
with warmth and expression, but when Aphiz took his hand, and he
turned towards him, that light was gone, like the fire from a seared
coal, and the optics of the idiot were cold and expressionless.