Immediately after his interview with Nicæus, Iskander summoned some of
the chief citizens of Croia to the citadel, and submitting to them his
arrangements for the administration of Epirus, announced the necessity
of his instant departure for a short interval; and the same evening, ere
the moon had risen, himself and the Prince of Athens quitted the city,
and proceeded in the direction of Adrianople. They travelled with great
rapidity until they reached a small town upon the frontiers, where they
halted for one day. Here, in the Bazaar, Iskander purchased for himself
the dress of an Armenian physician. In his long dark robes, and large
round cap of black wool, his face and hands stained, and his beard and
mustachios shaven, it seemed impossible that he could be recognised.
Nicæus was habited as his page, in a dress of coarse red cloth, setting
tight to his form, with a red cap, with a long blue tassel. He carried a
large bag containing drugs, some surgical instruments, and a few books.
In this guise, as soon as the gates were open on the morrow, Iskander,
mounted on a very small mule, and Nicæus on a very large donkey, the
two princes commenced the pass of the mountainous range, an arm of the
Balkan which divided Epirus from Roumelia.
“I broke the wind of the finest charger in all Asia when I last ascended
these mountains,” said Iskander; “I hope this day’s journey way be
accepted as a sort of atonement.”
“Faith! there is little doubt I am the best mounted of the two,” said
Nicæus. “However, I hope we shall return at a sharper pace.”
“How came it, my Nicæus,” said Iskander, “that you never mentioned to me
the name of Iduna when we were at Athens? I little supposed when I made
my sudden visit to Hunniades, that I was about to appeal to so fair a
host. She is a rarely gifted lady.”
“I knew of her being at the camp as little as yourself,” replied the
Prince of Athens, “and for the rest, the truth is, Iskander, there
are some slight crosses in our loves, which Time, I hope, will fashion
rightly.” So saying Nicæus pricked on his donkey, and flung his stick
at a bird which was perched on the branch of a tree. Iskander did not
resume a topic to which his companion seemed disinclined. Their journey
was tedious. Towards nightfall they reached the summit of the usual
track; and as the descent was difficult, they were obliged to rest until
daybreak.
On the morrow they had a magnificent view of the rich plains of
Roumelia, and in the extreme distance, the great city of Adrianople,
its cupolas and minarets blazing and sparkling in the sun. This glorious
prospect at once revived all their energies. It seemed that the moment
of peril and of fate had arrived. They pricked on their sorry steeds;
and on the morning of the next day, presented themselves at the gates of
the city. The thorough knowledge which Iskander possessed of the Turkish
character obtained them an entrance, which was at one time almost
doubtful, from the irritability and impatience of Nicæus. They repaired
to a caravansera of good repute in the neighbourhood of the seraglio;
and having engaged their rooms, the Armenian physician, attended by his
page, visited several of the neighbouring coffee-houses, announcing, at
the same time, his arrival, his profession, and his skill.
As Iskander felt pulses, examined tongues, and distributed drugs and
charms, he listened with interest and amusement to the conversation of
which he himself was often the hero. He found that the Turks had not
yet recovered from their consternation at his audacity and success. They
were still wondering, and if possible more astounded than indignant.
The politicians of the coffee-houses, chiefly consisting of Janissaries,
were loud in their murmurs. The popularity of Amurath had vanished
before the triumph of Hunniades, and the rise of Iskander.
“But Allah has in some instances favoured the faithful,” remarked
Iskander; “I heard in my travels of your having captured a great
princess of the Giaours.”
“God is great!” said an elderly Turk with a long white heard. “The Hakim
congratulates the faithful because they have taken a woman!”
“Not so merely,” replied Iskander; “I heard the woman was a princess. If
so, the people of Franguestan will pay any ransom for their great women;
and, by giving up this fair Giaour, you may free many of the faithful.”
“Mashallah!” said another ancient Turk, sipping his coffee. “The Hakim
speaks wisely.”
“May I murder my mother!” exclaimed a young Janissary, with great
indignation. “But this is the very thing that makes me wild against
Amurath. Is not this princess a daughter of that accursed Giaour, that
dog of dogs, Hunniades? and has he not offered for her ransom our brave
Karam Bey himself, and his chosen warriors? and has not Amurath said
nay? And why has he said nay? Because his son, the Prince of Mahomed,
instead of fighting against the Giaours, has looked upon one of their
women, and has become a Mejnoun. Pah! May I murder my mother, but if the
Giaours were in full march to the city, I’d not fight. And let him tell
this to the Cadi who dares; for there are ten thousand of us, and we
have sworn by the Kettle but we will not fight for Giaours, or those who
love Giaours!”
“If you mean me, Ali, about going to the Cadi,” said the chief eunuch of
Mahomed, who was standing by, “let me tell you I am no tale-bearer,
and scorn to do an unmanly act. The young prince can beat the Giaours
without the aid of those who are noisy enough in a coffee-house when
they are quiet enough in the field. And, for the rest of the business,
you may all ease your hearts; for the Frangy princess you talk of is
pining away, and will soon die. The Sultan has offered a hundred purses
of gold to any one who cures her; but the gold will never be counted by
the Hasnadar, or I will double it.”
“Try your fortune, Hakim,” said several laughing loungers to Iskander.
“Allah has stricken the Frangy princess,” said the old Turk with a white
beard.
“He will strike all Giaours,” said his ancient companion, sipping his
coffee. “It is so written.”
“Well! I do not like to hear of women slaves pining to death,” said the
young Janissary, in a softened tone, “particularly when they are young.
Amurath should have ransomed her, or he might have given her to one of
his officers, or any young fellow that had particularly distinguished
himself.” And so, twirling his mustachios, and flinging down his
piastre, the young Janissary strutted out of the coffee-house.
“When we were young,” said the old Turk with the white beard to his
companion, shaking his head, “when we were young--”
“We conquered Anatolia, and never opened our mouths,” rejoined his
companion.
“I never offered an opinion till I was sixty,” said the old Turk; “and
then it was one which had been in our family for a century.”
“No wonder Hunniades carries everything before him,” said his companion.
“And that accursed Iskander,” said the old man.
The chief eunuch, finishing his vase of sherbet, moved away. The
Armenian physician followed him.