At break of dawn Iskander sent couriers throughout all Epirus,
announcing the fall of Croia, and that he had raised the standard
of independence in his ancient country. He also despatched a trusty
messenger to Prince Nicæus at Athens, and to the great Hunniades.
The people were so excited throughout all Epirus, at this great and
unthought-of intelligence, that they simultaneously rose in all the open
country, and massacred the Turks, and the towns were only restrained in
a forced submission to Amurath, by the strong garrisons of the Sultan.
Now Iskander was very anxious to effect the removal of these garrisons
without loss of time, in order that if Amurath sent a great power
against him, as he expected, the invading army might have nothing to
rely upon but its own force, and that his attention might not in any way
be diverted from effecting their overthrow. Therefore, as soon as his
troops had rested, and he had formed his new recruits into some order,
which, with their willing spirits, did not demand many days, Iskander
set out from Croia, at the head of twelve thousand men, and marched
against the strong city of Petrella, meeting in his way the remainder of
the garrison of Croia on their return, who surrendered themselves to him
at discretion. Petrella was only one day’s march from Croia, and when
Iskander arrived there he requested a conference with the governor, and
told his tale so well, representing the late overthrow of the Turks by
Hunniades, and the incapacity of Amurath at present to relieve him,
that the Turkish commander agreed to deliver up the place, and leave the
country with his troops, particularly as the alternative of Iskander to
these easy terms was ever conquest without quarter. And thus, by a happy
mixture of audacity and adroitness, the march of Iskander throughout
Epirus was rather like a triumph than a campaign, the Turkish garrisons
imitating, without any exception, the conduct of their comrades at
Petrella, and dreading the fate of their comrades at the capital. In
less than a month Iskander returned to Epirus, having delivered the
whole country from the Moslemin yoke.
Hitherto Iskander had heard nothing either of Hunniades or Nicæus. He
learnt, therefore, with great interest, as he passed through the
gates of the city, that the Prince of Athens had arrived at Croia
the preceding eve, and also that his messenger had returned from
the Hungarian camp. Amid the acclamations of an enthusiastic people,
Iskander once more ascended the citadel of Croia. Nicæus received him at
the gate. Iskander sprang from his horse, and embraced his friend.
Hand in hand, and followed by their respective trains, they entered the
fortress palace.
“Dear friend,” said Iskander, when they were once more alone, “you see
we were right not to despair. Two months have scarcely elapsed since we
parted without prospect, or with the most gloomy one, and now we are in
a fair way of achieving all that we can desire. Epirus is free!”
“I came to claim my share in its emancipation,” said Nicæus, with a
smile, “but Iskander is another Cæsar!”
“You will have many opportunities yet, believe me, Nicæus, of proving
your courage and your patriotism,” replied Iskander; “Amurath will never
allow this affair to pass over in this quiet manner. I did not commence
this struggle without a conviction that it would demand all the energy
and patience of a long life. I shall be rewarded if I leave freedom
as an heritage to my countrymen; but for the rest, I feel that I bid
farewell to every joy of life, except the ennobling consciousness of
performing a noble duty. In the meantime, I understand a messenger
awaits me here from the great Hunniades. Unless that shield of
Christendom maintain himself in his present position, our chance of
ultimate security is feeble. With his constant diversion in Bulgaria,
we may contrive here to struggle into success. You sometimes laugh at
my sanguine temper, Nicæus. To say the truth, I am more serene than
sanguine, and was never more conscious of the strength of my opponent
than now, when it appears that I have beaten him. Hark! the people
cheer. I love the people, Nicæus, who are ever influenced by genuine and
generous feelings. They cheer as if they had once more gained a country.
Alas! they little know what they must endure even at the best. Nay!
look not gloomy; we have done great things, and will do more. Who waits
without there? Demetrius! Call the messenger from Lord Hunniades.”
An Epirot bearing a silken packet was now introduced, which he delivered
to Iskander. Reverently touching the hand of his chieftain, the
messenger then kissed his own and withdrew. Iskander broke the seal, and
drew forth a letter from the silken cover.
“So! this is well!” exclaimed the prince, with great animation, as he
threw his quick eye over the letter. “As I hoped and deemed, a most
complete victory. Karam Bey himself a prisoner, baggage, standards,
great guns, treasure. Brave soldier of the Cross! (may I prove so!) Your
perfectly-devised movement, (poh, poh!) Hah! what is this?” exclaimed
Iskander, turning pale; his lip quivered, his eye looked dim. He walked
to an arched window. His companion, who supposed that he was reading,
did not disturb him.
“Poor, poor Hunniades!” at length exclaimed Iskander, shaking his head.
“What of him?” inquired Nicæus, quickly.
“The sharpest accident of war!” replied Iskander. “It quite clouds my
spirit. We must forget these things, we must forget. Epirus! he is not
a patriot who can spare a thought from thee. And yet, so young, so
beautiful, so gifted, so worthy of a hero! when I saw her by her great
father’s side, sharing his toils, aiding his councils, supplying his
necessities, methought I gazed upon a ministering angel! upon--”
“Stop, stop in mercy’s name, Iskander!” exclaimed Nicæus, in a very
agitated tone. “What is all this? Surely no, surely not, surely Iduna--”
“‘Tis she!”
“Dead?” exclaimed Nicæus, rushing up to his companion, and seizing his
arm.
“Worse, much worse!”
“God of Heaven!” exclaimed the young Prince, with almost a frantic air.
“Tell me all, tell me all! This suspense fires my brain. Iskander, you
know not what this woman is to me; the sole object of my being, the
bane, the blessing of my life! Speak, dear friend, speak! I beseech you!
Where is Iduna?”
“A prisoner to the Turk.”
“Iduna a prisoner to the Turk. I’ll not believe it! Why do we wear
swords? Where’s chivalry? Iduna, a prisoner to the Turk! ‘Tis false. It
cannot be. Iskander, you are a coward! I am a coward! All are cowards! A
prisoner to the Turk! Iduna! What, the Rose of Christendom! has it been
plucked by such a turbaned dog as Amurath? Farewell, Epirus! Farewell,
classic Athens! Farewell, bright fields of Greece, and dreams that made
them brighter! The sun of all my joy and hope is set, and set for ever!”
So saying, Nicæus, tearing his hair and garments, flung himself upon the
floor, and hid his face in his robes.
Iskander paced the room with a troubled step and thoughtful brow. After
some minutes he leant down by the Prince of Athens, and endeavoured to
console him.
“It is in vain, Iskander, it is in vain,” said Nicæus. “I wish to die.”
“Were I a favoured lover, in such a situation,” replied Iskander, “I
should scarcely consider death my duty, unless the sacrifice of myself
preserved my mistress.”
“Hah!” exclaimed Nicæus, starting from the ground. “Do you conceive,
then, the possibility of rescuing her?”
“If she live, she is a prisoner in the Seraglio at Adrianople. You are
as good a judge as myself of the prospect that awaits your exertions.
It is, without doubt, a difficult adventure, but such, methinks, as a
Christian knight should scarcely shun.”
“To horse;” exclaimed Nicæus, “to horse--And yet what can I do? Were she
in any other place but the capital I might rescue her by force, but in
the heart of their empire, it is impossible. Is there no ransom that can
tempt the Turk? My principality would rise in the balance beside this
jewel.”
“That were scarcely wise, and certainly not just,” replied Iskander;
“but ransom will be of no avail. Hunniades has already offered to
restore Karam Bey, and all the prisoners of rank, and the chief
trophies, and Amurath has refused to listen to any terms. The truth is,
Iduna has found favour in the eyes of his son, the young Mahomed.”
“Holy Virgin! hast thou no pity on this Christian maid?” exclaimed
Nicæus. “The young Mahomed! Shall this licentious infidel--ah!
Iskander, dear, dear Iskander, you who have so much wisdom, and so much
courage; you who can devise all things, and dare all things; help me,
help me; on my knees I do beseech you, take up this trying cause of foul
oppression, and for the sake of all you love and reverence, your creed,
your country, and perchance your friend, let your great genius, like
some solemn angel, haste to the rescue of the sweet Iduna, and save her,
save her!”
“Some thoughts like these were rising in my mind when first I spoke,”
replied Iskander. “This is a better cue, far more beseeming princes than
boyish tears, and all the outward misery of woe, a tattered garment
and dishevelled locks. Come, Nicæus, we have to struggle with a mighty
fortune. Let us be firm as Fate itself.”