MARSILLUS one day observed that his son’s manner was more caressing than
usual, so he took him on his knee and said--
“What does my child want to-day? Generally he does not embrace me at
all, but since the morning he has done so three times!”
“Sire,” said Murad, leaning his little head on his father’s shoulder, “I
should like to have your yataghan that hangs at your side!”
“What! Have you broken all your toys, or are you tired of play that you
ask me for such a formidable weapon?”
“I am seven years old,” said Murad, drawing himself up; “I am no longer
a child, and can carry arms. The sight of blood has no terror for
me--nay! look”--and rapidly snatching the yataghan before the king
had time to stop him, he gave himself a gash in the arm. Then, without
flinching, he looked at his father, and said, “You see you can trust me
with it!” The king staunched the blood and bound up the gash with his
scarf. Then, embracing his son, he gave him the coveted weapon.
The same evening Murad was seized with a second whim.
He had never been allowed to to out alone--what could be more delightful
than to take a stroll abroad at night? He only knew the face of Nature
by day, he wished to see her in her silent moments, in the hours
of gloom and half-obscured moonlight. He had heard of the songs of
night-birds, of the roar of the hungry lion; of those insects which,
glittering among the leaves, turn every bush into a casket of diamonds;
of the mysterious odours which earth yields to the flowers only in the
solemn hours of darkness; but now he determined to see, to hear, and to
learn all these for himself.
[Illustration: 048]
He retired to rest as usual, placed his yataghan under his pillow, and
waited till all was quiet in the palace. Then he rose softly, dressed
himself, and walked to the door of his apartments. There he found his
governor sleeping across the threshold. He paused to reflect.
“If I try to open this door, I shall rouse my guardian. If I wake him,
will he grant my prayers? Certainly not. Will he yield to my threats?
No; he will only laugh at them. If I disturb his slumbers, therefore, it
will be to place him in a position of great difficulty, which I should
exceedingly regret. It will be better, then, not to wake him!”--and
Murad quietly thrust the point of his sword down the sleeper’s throat,
and quitted the place.
The first thing he had to do was to cross the gardens. It seemed as if
he had never seen them before. The fountains falling back into their
basins made a silvery tinkling, which formed a ravishing accompaniment
to the song of the nightingales. The bats, which looked like great
leather birds, wheeled in circles through the air upon noiseless wings.
The trees, allowing the moonbeams to filter through their foliage, flung
mosaics of light and shade upon the sward.
Murad fancied he saw one of the marble lions move, and started back, but
speedily seeing his mistake, was heartily ashamed of himself, although
he knew there was no one near to laugh at his alarm. If a real lion had
chanced to pass at that moment he would have had to pay for the fright
which the statue had cost Murad. As soon as he had recovered the first
feeling of surprise at the novelty, of the scene, Murad, who was not
exactly of a poetic temperament, hurried on. What he wanted to see was
not the garden--fine enough in its way, but only a prison, beyond the
walls of which he had never wandered at liberty--where every step he
set was on a well-kept lawn. He wanted freedom of space and chance
adventure. He sprang over the wall and fell into the midst of a
detachment of Nubians going their rounds.
When he saw the guards coming he said to himself, “These people have run
away once, so they may do it again. Ought I to wait for them to come?
No! My best plan is to rush upon them.”
He did so. They met. The first who encountered him had reason to regret
it, but his regret did not last long. In two minutes he was dead. Murad
flung some silver to the others and plunged into the thicket.
[Illustration: 049]
The Nubians left their dead comrade on the ground, but they picked up
the money. It is, however, a matter of time to find coins in long grass,
even by the bright light of an Eastern moon, so that Murad could escape
at leisure, and at last reached a sombre and dense wood. When, however,
the Nubians had divided the spoil, their captain called them together,
and said--
“You are a pack of cowards and fools. This was but a lad we had to do
with--some precious young rascal, who has just been making a hole in
the royal treasury. Why, he’s a mine of wealth, that boy--a stream of
riches, which glided away between our legs after besprinkling us with a
few silver drops. We must track it to the fountain head. He escaped
in this direction. Our own interests, as well as our duties, point out
plainly enough the course we should take.”
The nine guards set forward, marching carefully, and trying the bushes
with their spears.
Murad heard them approaching, but remained quite still in his
hiding-place.
At last they had to cross an open glade flooded with moonlight. They
held a brief consultation as to the direction in which they should
prosecute the search. The leader, picking out the darkest nook at
the edge of the wood, pointed it out to his men. The unthinking and
inexperienced always pitch on the darkest spot for a hiding-place,
overlooking the fact that it is sure to be the first to be searched. At
the moment when the officer was indicating to his men the direction
they should take, Murad, who was crouching in the underwood, felt a warm
breath upon his neck and ten sharp claws on his shoulders.
If I said he was not frightened I should tell a falsehood, especially
when, on turning his head, he saw two eyes--two glowing red
stars--gazing on him in the gloom. But fear did not abide long in the
breast of Murad. He saw, however, close by him another group of stars,
an alarming constellation; in short, the young prince had hidden himself
in a den with three young lions.
[Illustration: 050]
Unseen danger could make him tremble, but when he knew what he had to
deal with he recovered himself, and began to reflect on what he had to
do.
“Here I am, between three lions and nine Nubians, armed to the teeth;
which should I dread most? The latter, of course, for I frightened them,
and I killed one of them. They have two things to avenge on me. If I
kill one of the lions he will roar, and at his voice these birds of
night will run away.”
[Illustration: 051]
Murad then seized by the throat the brute which was still tearing at his
flesh, and drove the yataghan into his breast. But he miscalculated for
the cub paid the penalty of his life without uttering a single growl.
Still the little army of invaders continued to advance, only instead of
coming on steadily they did so at the double. The child sprang to his
feet, seized the second of the lions, and flung him straight in the
teeth of the advancing’ band when it was but a few steps from the copse.
This new style of projectile had a most telling effect. The Nubians
retraversed in ten seconds the ground it had taken them five-and-twenty
minutes to get over in the first instance.
The field was Murad’s. Of the three lion whelps one was dead, and a
second one was struggling on the ground with a huge wound in the flank.
He did not emulate the taciturnity of his brother, for he filled the air
with piercing yells. The third was squatting under some thick boughs,
uttering a low growling.
And now Murad was seized with a third whim. It was not a bad one for a
beginner.
He wished to carry off the third cub as a memento of his first
expedition. He re-entered the bushes and searched about. Before long
the two youngsters came face to face. The cub, warned by the fate of
his brothers, stood on the defensive, and, as soon as Murad came within
reach, plunged his talons into his neck. Murad smiled. He would not have
cared to bag his game without some trouble, so taking his captive by the
throat he made him loose his hold. The lion gasped, choked, and at last,
half-strangled, fell on his side, whereon the son of Marsillus took him
by the scruff of the neck and carried him off.
[Illustration: 052]
The wounded cub continued its moanings, which were soon answered by a
fierce and formidable cry. The mother was coming to the rescue of her
young! Murad saw that flight was impossible. The lioness came to a halt
on a neighbouring height, relieved in profile against the pale sky.
She searched with anxious and terrified eyes the glade whence the cries
proceeded. Perceiving the wounded cub she made but one bound to it,
rolled it over and over, licking its wounds, trampling and tearing
the ground with her claws. At intervals she raised her head, and gave
utterance to a menacing roar. Her fierce caresses hastened the cub’s
death. When she saw he no longer stirred she devoted herself to
searching for some one on whom to avenge the great calamity which had
overtaken her. Then she heard the complainings of the other cub which
was being carried off, and she stood astonished at the audacity of the
robber. You would have declared she knew Murad could not fly. Without
hurrying herself at all, she advanced towards him in narrowing circles,
of which he was the centre, lashing her sides with her tail, lowering
her head, laying back her ears, and opening her terrific jaws.
Murad availed himself of the delay to drag off his clothes, and roll
them round his left arm; and then, scimitar in hand, awaited her attack,
determined to make a stout defence, but feeling certain he had but few
minutes to live. He continued to retreat, fixing his eyes on those of
his terrible adversary, until he reached a rock, against which he placed
his back.
On arriving within a few paces of the lad, the lioness sprang upon him.
Murad sank on one knee, and thrust nearly the whole of his left arm down
the monster’s throat. The pain he suffered was horrible, and drew from
him so savage a shout that even the lioness was terrified. Then, not
knowing what he was doing, mad with rage and pain, and guided less by
presence of mind than instinct, he drove his steel into the creature’s
belly, and ripped it entirely open. Then, bathed in blood, he sank
beneath the corpse of his victim, and lost consciousness.
[Illustration: 053]
And now, my young friends, we will no longer stop out of doors at this
time of night, but re-enter the palace, and see what is going on there.
Every hour the guards went the rounds of the building. One of the
soldiers, in passing the door of Murad’s chamber, slipped, and fell
at full length on the pavement, to the great scandal of his commanding
officer. Picking himself up, he beat a retreat to the guard-room, amid
the jeers of his brothers-in-arms.
[Illustration: 054]
The guard-room was dimly lit by a smoky lamp, which, however, gave
enough light to enable the soldier, on approaching it, to perceive that
his hands were covered with blood. Thinking that he was wounded, he felt
himself all over, and found that his clothes were similarly discoloured.
“This is odd,” said he to his officer. “I am not wounded, and yet look
at the state of my hands and my uniform!”
The officer seized a lantern, and hastened to retraverse the rounds of
the palace. On arriving at the door of Murad’s apartment, he paused in
alarm, for he perceived a slender stream of blood, which took its rise
within the chamber. He rushed off in haste to inform the commandant in
charge for the night.
[Illustration: 055]
The commandant, terrified at the news, flew to inform the governor
of the palace of the discovery. He, in turn, hurried off to the lord
chamberlain, who, dreading the responsibility of waking the sultan,
went, at the top of his speed, to find the prime minister. The prime
minister ran, out of breath, to break the alarming intelligence to his
master.
Marsillus dressed in a twinkling.
Pale and trembling, with his eyes but half open, and his clothes huddled
on anyhow, he hastened to the sultana. She, not expecting such a visit,
and never having seen her lord in such trim before, gave a loud shriek,
at which her fifty attendants rushed in in alarm. On hearing the
news Marsillus had to impart, the lovely Hadrama and ten of her
ladies-in-waiting fainted away.
“By the beard of the Prophet!” said the sultan, impatiently, “this is no
time for such monkey tricks! We have not a moment to lose. That one of
you that is last to recover her senses shall receive fifty strokes of
the bastinado.”
In an instant all were on their feet, and prepared to depart.
The sultan, the sultana, the prime minister, the chamberlain,
the commandant, the officer of the guard, the sentry, the fifty
ladies-in-waiting, the fifty life guards, and the eunuchs, set forward,
preceded by twenty black slaves bearing torches. The procession arrived
at Murad’s apartment; the door was burst open; his majesty perceived who
was the victim, and breathed more freely.
“Really,” said the fair Hadrama, “this tutor has given us a most
unnecessary alarm.”
“This is your stupidity, vizier!” said the king, frowning. “How dare you
disturb us for a trifle like this?”
“Sire, it was your lord chamberlain who roused me, and stated that the
prince was murdered. If I had for a moment supposed----” but at this the
chamberlain, seeing himself in danger of losing the royal favour,
threw the blame on the governor, who turned upon the commandant. The
commandant passed on the charge to the officer of the guard; and he,
being a man of action, promptly ordered a hundred blows of the bamboo to
be administered to the soldier who was the prime origin of the mishap.
The procession, reassured, was about to resume its progress, when the
queen suddenly uttered a piercing shriek.
[Illustration: 056]
“What’s the matter now?” said Marsillus, giving a start, which was
repeated by all around him.
“Do you not see that the room is empty? They have killed my child. There
is no doubt about it: I was dreaming of a cat when you woke me! My child
is dead!”
“Then,” said the chamberlain, “the tutor must have killed him.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Marsillus; “and as for
you, madam, you’re a fool. Retire to your apartments. And do you take
notice, governor of the palace, that if my son is not found by sunrise,
you will be honoured by immediate impalement. Go!--I rely upon your zeal
and activity!”
Marsillus retired to bed again, flung himself on his pillow, and slept
till nine, which was a thing he never did before. On waking, he saw the
governor of the palace seated motionless at the foot of his couch.
“Oh, there you are! You bring good news?”
“Sire, the young prince is found!”
“There!” said the sultan to the fair Hadrama, who had just come in, “you
see you were too ready to alarm yourself.”
The sultana only answered by wiping away a tear.
“And pray where did you find Murad?”
“In the olive-grove which borders the royal park.”
“Oh, ho! so my young eaglet is trying his wings. What was he doing?”
“The prince was taking a nap, surrounded by a lioness and three young
lions.”
“That is impossible, governor. I know you too well: you would never have
gone to look for him _there!_”
“My lord, the lioness was dead, and so were two of the cubs. The third,
failing to obtain any other nutriment from its dam, was breakfasting off
her.”
“And pray who had done all this slaughter?”
“I!” said Murad, who entered, pale and gory, followed by two slaves
dragging the young lion along in chains.
Marsillus rose, ran to his son, clasped him in his arms, and covered him
with caresses.
His son did not return them, for he had fainted, overcome with pain and
loss of blood. I need hardly say he was tended as became the son of a
king, and the slayer of lions.
[Illustration: 057]
A few days after, the prime minister submitted a report to the sultan,
proving in the clearest manner that the prince’s tutor had committed
suicide. Marsillus smiled.
“Well done, vizier! I see how to reward you: you shall take the place
left vacant by my son’s tutor.”
Murad grew up. He and the young lion were never separated. They were
seen together everywhere--even on the field of battle, and thus it
was that in course of time they made their appearance in the lists at
Fronsac.
Now that you have, made the acquaintance of Murad Henakyeh
Meimoumovassi, we will return to Charlemagne.
[Illustration: 058]
[Illustration: 059]