SPORT WITH A BLIND MAN.
Azrael had felt afraid when Hassan said: "I must kill this woman
to-day." A fearful spectre was haunting the mind of the Vizier; he must
be freed from this spectre, and made to forget it.
So Azrael devised an odd sport for the man on the verge of imbecility.
The seven days had passed during which Hassan had forbidden that anyone
should be admitted to his presence, and it occurred to Azrael that in
the ante-chamber crowds of brilliant envoys, and couriers, and
supplicants were waiting, all eagerly desirous of an audience, many of
them with rich gifts; others came to render homage, others with joyful
tidings from the seat of war; whilst one of them had come all the way
from the Grand Vizier with a very important message from the Sultan
himself.
Hassan's stupid mind brightened somewhat at these words, a fatuously
good-natured smile lit up his face.
"Let them come in, let them appear before me," he said joyfully to the
girl; "and remain thou beside me and introduce them to me one by one;
thine shall be the glory of it."
But in reality none was awaiting an audience in the ante-room, there
were no splendid envoys there, no humble petitioners, no agas, no
messengers, none but the Vizier's own slaves.
But these Azrael dressed up one by one to look like splendid magnates,
village magistrates, and soldiers; put sealed letters, purses, and
banners in their hands, and placing Hassan in the reception-room on a
lofty divan, sat down with the Princess on stools at his feet, and
ordered the door-keepers to admit the disguised slaves one by one.
The mockery was flagrant, but was there among them all any who dared to
enlighten Hassan? Who would undertake to undeceive him when a mere nod
from Azrael might annihilate before the Vizier could realise that they
were making sport of him? It was a fleet-winged demon fooling a sluggish
mammoth with strength enough to crush her but with no wings to enable it
to get at her, and the rabble always takes the part of the mocker, not
of the mocked, especially if the former be lucky and the latter unlucky.
The loutish slaves came one by one into the room, and Hassan turned his
face towards them, remaining in that position while Azrael told him who
they were and what they wanted.
"This is Ferhad Aga," said the odalisk, pointing at a stable-man, "who,
hearing of thy martial prowess in all four corners of the world has come
hither begging thee with veiled countenance to include him among thy
armour-bearers."
Hassan most graciously extended his hand to the stable-man and granted
him his petition.
Azrael next presented to Hassan a cook from a foreign court, who,
dressed in a large round mantle of cloth of silver, might very well have
passed for a burgomaster of Debreczen, and whose shoulders bent beneath
the weight of two sacks of gold and silver from Hassan's own treasury.
"This is the magistrate of the city of Debreczen," said the odalisk,
"who hath brought thee a little gift in the name of the municipality,
with the petition that when thou dost become the Pasha of Transylvania
thou wilt not forget them."
Hassan smiled at the word money, had the sacks placed before him, thrust
his arms into them up to his very wrists with great satisfaction, had
their contents emptied at his feet, and dismissed the envoy with a
hearty pressure of the hand.
And now followed a negro, who brought some recaptured Turkish banners
from the bed of a river which did not exist, in which the Turks had
drowned the whole army of Montecuculi.
Hassan was now in such a weak state of mind that he no longer recognised
his own people in their unwonted garments, and the more extraordinary
the things reported to him the more readily he believed them.
And so Azrael kept on exhibiting to him envoys, couriers, and captains
till, at last, it came to the turn of the envoy of the Grand Vizier,
whose part the odalisk had entrusted to a clever eunuch who had been
instructed to present to Hassan a sealed firman, which Azrael was to
read because Hassan could not see the letters. It was to the effect that
Hassan was to endeavour to preserve the life of the captive Princess, as
the Grand Vizier himself intended in a few days to take her over alive.
When thus it seemed good to Azrael that the most striking scene of the
whole game should begin she exclaimed in a loud voice to the
door-keepers:
"Admit the ambassador of the Grand Vizier with the message from the
Sublime Padishah!"
The guards drew back the curtains and in came--Olaj Beg!
"Truly I must needs admit," said he turning towards the odalisk, who
stood there petrified with fear and amazement, "truly I must admit that
thou art blessed with the faculty of seeing through walls and reading
fast-closed letters, for thou hast announced me before I appeared
officially and thou hast seen the firman hidden in my bosom before I
have had time to produce it."
Azrael arose. She felt her blood throbbing in her brain for terror. At
that moment she had that keen sensation of danger when every atom of the
body--heart, brain, hands, and the smallest nerve--sees, hears, and
thinks.
"Thou hast brought the firman of the Sultan?" she inquired of Olaj Beg
with wrapt attention.
"Thou knowest also what is written in it, O enchantress!" said Olaj, in
a tone of homage, "therefore ask not."
There was something in the yellow face of Olaj Beg which made him most
formidable, most menacing at the very time when he seemed to be utterly
abject in his humility.
"What doth the Sublime Sultan command?" inquired Hassan, gazing
abstractedly in front of him.
"That thou prepare a scaffold in the courtyard of thy palace by
to-morrow morning."
"For whom?" inquired Hassan in alarm. It was curious that it was he who
trembled at this word, and not the Princess.
"That is the secret of to-morrow. Thou shalt break open and read this
firman to-morrow, in it thou wilt find who is to die to-morrow."
At these words Olaj Beg looked at the faces of all who were present, as
if he would read their innermost thoughts, but in vain. He recognised
none of those on whom his eyes fell. Although many of them seemed to be
great men he could not remember meeting any of them in the Empire of the
Grand Turk; and the face of Azrael was as cold and motionless as marble,
he could read nought from that.
But Azrael had already read the sealed firman through the eyes of Olaj
Beg.
She had read it, and it said that if by to-morrow morning the Princess
was not set free then the scaffold would be erected for her, but if she
had escaped, then it would be raised for Hassan and for whomsoever had
set her free.
"I must hasten to set her free," she thought.