the question; but I was only a sub, you know, and had never even thought
of a razor: my chin was almost as smooth as her own, and so she said as
she passed her soft little hand over it. Again I attempted to remove
the veil which hid her face, but so great was her terror, so excessive
her agitation, that I desisted for a time. But between caressing and
entreating, in a few minutes we conquered their scruples and oriental
ideas of punctilio, when we were permitted to remove the lawn hoods and
view their pure and sublime features, with the heavy masses of long
black and glossy hair falling over naked necks and shoulders, which were
whiter than Parian marble. They were indeed miraculously beautiful, and
fully realized our most romantic and excited ideas of their long-hidden
loveliness.
"I had just obtained some half-dozen kisses from the dewy little mouth
of Zela, when I saw Cameron start up and draw his sword.
"'What is the matter, Fassifern?' I exclaimed; but the appalling and
portly figure of Mohammed Djedda, as he stood in the doorway, swelling
with rage and eastern ferocity, was a sufficient answer. In his right
hand he held his drawn sabre of keen Damascus steel, and in the other a
long brass Turkish pistol. Crowding the marble staircase beyond, we saw
his ferocious Mameluke soldiers, clad in their crimson _benishes_ or
long robes of cotton, and tall _kouacks_ or cylindrical yellow turbans,
while their spears, poniards, and cimetars, short, crooked, and of
Damascus steel, flashed and glittered in a manner very unpleasant to
behold. The poor girls, horrified beyond description at being
discovered in the society of men, of Christians, and unveiled too, were
so much overcome by their terrors, that they were unable to fly; and
calling on the bride of Mahomet in Paradise to protect them, embraced
each other franticly and fondly, expecting instant death.
"'Here is a devil of a mess, Cameron,' cried I, drawing out Andrea.
'Let us leap the window, and fly for the camp!'
"'But their carbines throw a dozen balls at once,' was his hurried
reply.
"'Shoulder to shoulder, Jock! now for the onset,' said I, preparing to
rush recklessly upon them. 'We must take our chance of--'
"The rest was cut short by a slash the old savage made at me with his
cimetar, which took three inches off the oak stick I cut at home in the
green woods of Inverary, before I left them to follow the drum. My
blood began to boil.
"'Mohammed Djedda!' said I, in Turkish, 'we have done no wrong; we are
strangers among you, and know not the laws of the land. Allow us to
depart in peace; otherwise you may have good reason to repent,' I added,
pointing to the tents of the 'auld forty-twa.'
"'Depart in peace, said you? Despicable giaour!' thundered he, his
Turkish tone becoming more guttural by his ferocity. 'Never, never! By
the sacred stone of Mecca!--by every hair in the beard of the holy
Prophet!--by the infernal bridge which spans the sea of fire,--slave of
an accursed race, ye never shall! Never! I have sworn it.'
"I saw Cameron's eyes flash and glare as he prepared to sell his life as
dearly as possible.
"'Then our steel for it, old man; and remember, should we fall, our
friends in the white tents will avenge us.'
"'Thou too shalt die!' growled the old barbarian, discharging his pistol
at poor little Zela, who fell dead without a groan, with the purple
blood streaming from her white bosom, which I saw heave its last
convulsive throb around the death-shot. The thick muslin turban of
Mohammed saved him from one tremendous blow which I dealt at his
scowling visage, but he sunk to the earth beneath the weight of the
claymore.
"'_Allah, il Allah!_ death to the soldiers of Isauri!'[*] yelled his
infuriated followers, rushing madly on me, and in an instant I was
vanquished: I received a terrible blow on the back of my head from the
iron mace of a Mameluke. I remember no more than just seeing Cameron
cut two down to the teeth, run a third through the brisket, leap the
window, and escape.
[*] Jesus Christ.
"'Good by, Cameron; gallantly done!' cried I, as I sunk stunned and
senseless by the lifeless corse of Zela.
"How long I lay insensible I know not; but when my faculties returned I
found myself stretched upon the ground, which felt cold and damp, and in
a place involved in the deepest and most impenetrable gloom. I found
that the epaulets and lace had been torn from my coat, and an intense
pain on the back of my head reminded me of the blow of the steel mace;
and on raising my hand to the wound, I found my hair clotted and
hardened with coagulated blood. Rats or some monstrous vermin running
over me caused me to leap from the ground, and endeavour to discover
where I was. This the darkness rendered impossible; but by the chill
atmosphere of the place, the difficulty of respiration I experienced,
and the hollow echoes of my feet, dying dismally away in distant
cavities, I conjectured rightly that I was imprisoned in some
subterranean vault. What the agony of my mind was when this idea became
confirmed, you may better conceive than I describe. I recollected that
the troops marched next day, and that unless Fassifern made some most
strenuous attempt to discover and free me, I should be left at the mercy
of the lawless Mohammed, either to be his perpetual captive in a
dungeon, to be left to a slow lingering death by starvation, or a more
expeditious one by some mode of torture, such as the most refined spirit
of Eastern cruelty and barbarism could invent.
"In groping about, I soon came in contact with a stone wall, which I
felt carefully all round, but no door or outlet could I discover. A
succession of wooden boxes placed upright, sounding and hollow when I
touched them, informed me at once of the truth,--that I was cast into
one of those ancient catacombs which are so numerous under the city of
Alexandria,--horrible caverns hollowed in the bowels of the earth, where
the mummy-remains of the subjects of the Pharaohs, the Ptolemies, and
others, out-standing the course of more than twenty centuries, lay
swathed in their bandages and embalming! The blood rushed back upon my
trembling heart, and every hair on my aching head seemed to bristle upon
my scalp, as I staggered dizzily against the mouldy wall, knocking down
half-a-dozen mummy-coffers, which fell heavily and hollowly upon the
pavement.
"You may imagine what were my feelings when I reviewed my situation. I,
a superstitious Highland boy, that used to shake in my brogues, like a
dog in a wet sack, if I passed the kirk-yard of Inverary after
night-fall, and never went into the dark but with my eyes closed tight
for fear of seeing something 'uncanny,' when I found myself in this
gloomy repository of the dead I was so confounded and terrified, that it
was long before I recovered my self-possession so far as to cast a firm
glance of scrutiny around me, and endeavour to discover some means of
escape. I perceived with joy a faint ray of daylight streaming through
a small aperture, which appeared nearly twenty feet above me.
"'Dawn has broken!' I exclaimed in sudden anguish; 'the troops must have
marched! Cameron cannot have escaped Mohammed, or, oh, my God! surely he
would not, without making an effort to save me, abandon me to perish
here!'
"'Perish here!' repeated half-a-dozen dreary echoes. I looked around me
in consternation. The sounds almost seemed to proceed from the red
blubber-like lips of the frightful faces which I now perceived carved
and painted on the outside of the upright mummy-coffers. They were the
figures of the dead, and tinted with those imperishable colours with
which the ancient Egyptians decorated the exterior of their temples.
The large round eyes of these appalling effigies seemed to be staring
hard at me from every dark corner, winking, goggling, and rolling; while
their very mouths, capacious and red, expanded into a broad grin,
methought, at my misery. Against the black wall they were ranked at
equal distances, but here and there were some which had fallen to
pieces, and lay upon the earth, exposing the decayed and mouldered corse
standing stark, gaunt, and erect, swathed tightly in its cerements.
Others had fallen down, and lay prostrate among little urns, containing,
I suppose, the embalmed remains of the sacred ibis, the monkey, or other
animals revered by the ancient idolaters. Enormous bats were sailing
about, black scorpions, and many a huge bloated reptile, of which I knew
not even the name, appearing as if formed alone for such a place,
crawled about the coffins, or fell now and then with a heavy squabby
sound from the wet slimy wall on the moist and watery pavement.
"By the grey light, straggling through what seemed a joint in the
key-stone of an arch above, I was enabled to note these things, and I
did so with wary and fearful glances, while my heart swelled almost to
breaking when I thought of my blighted hopes, and that home which was
far awa--the green mountains of Mull and of Morven, and the deep salt
lochs of Argyle; and, dearer than all, the well-known hearth where I had
sat at the knee of my mother, and heard her rehearse those wild
traditions of hill and valley, which endeared them more to me.
"'Have the followers of the false Isauri departed?' asked the guttural
voice of old Mohammed or some one above me; while the cranny over-head
became darkened, and the trampling of feet, together with the clatter of
weapons, became audible. 'Have the eaters of pork and drinkers of
wine,--have the unclean dogs departed from the walls of Iskandrieh?' I
listened in breathless suspense.
"'They have,' answered the yet more guttural voice of a Mameluke; 'they
go towards the desert. May they perish in the sand, that the jackal and
wolf may fatten and howl over their bones!'
"'Amen,--_Allah kebur_! Great is God, and Mahomet his holy Prophet!'
replied the Capitan Djedda, while my heart died within me to hear that
our people had departed from Alexandria. These were some of the
ungrateful infidels for whom brave Sir Ralph, and so many gallant
Britons, had reddened the arid sand with their blood!
"'Then bring ye up this follower of Isauri,' said Mohammed, 'and he will
see whether his prophet, or all the dervishes and mollahs of his faith,
can preserve him from the death I have sworn he shall die. Ere night,
his carcass shall be food for the jackals; and while the unbeliever
looks his last on the bright setting sun, Hadji Kioudh get ready
the.....' What word he finished with I know not, but it was sufficient
to strike terror to the inmost recesses of my heart. I well knew some
terrible instrument of torture was named.
"What my emotions were I cannot describe, when I found death so near,
and knew that I was powerless, defenceless, and unarmed, having no other
weapon but my oaken staff, which, strange to say, I had never
relinquished. I beheld the claw of an iron crow-bar inserted in the
cranny which admitted light, for the purpose of raising the stone
trap-door of the catacomb; and as the space opened, I saw, or imagined I
saw, the weapons of Mohammed's followers flashing in the sun-light. My
life never appeared so dear, or of such inestimable value, as at that
moment, when I found myself about to lose it,--to be sacrificed like a
poor mouse in a trap. I cast around a furious glance of eagerness and
despair. A small round archway, which I had not before observed, met my
eye; yawning and black it appeared in the gloom, and supported by clumsy
short Egyptian pillars. I flew towards it, as novels say, animated by
the most tumultuous hopes and fears, praying to Heaven that it might
afford me some chance of escape from the cimetars of the savage
Mahometans, who had already raised the trap stone, and lowered a long
ladder into the vault.
"The passage was long but straight, and guided by a distant light,
glimmering at the other end, I sped along it with the fleetness of a
roebuck; receiving, as I went, many a hard knock from the bold carvings
and knobby projections of the short dumpy pillars that formed a
colonnade on each side. I heard the sabres and iron maces of the
Mameluke warriors clatter, as successively five or six of them leaped
into the vault, and set up the wild shout of "_Ya Allah!_" when they
found that I was not there. By their not immediately searching the
passage, I concluded that they were unacquainted with the geography of
the place, and, in consequence of their having come from the strong
glare of the sun, were unable to perceive the arch in the gloom of the
cavern. They became terrified on finding that I was gone, and withdrew,
scampering up the ladder with the utmost precipitation, attributing, I
suppose, my escape to supernatural means.
"I kept myself close between the twisted columns, scarcely daring to
breathe until they had withdrawn and all was quiet, when I again pursued
my way towards the glimmering light, which was still in view, but at
what distance before me I could form no idea. Sometimes it appeared
close at hand, sometimes a mile off, dancing before me like a will o'
the wisp. My progress was often embarrassed by prostrate columns, and
oftener by heaps of fallen masonry. More than once I was nearly
suffocated by the foul air of the damp vaults, or the dust and mortar
among which I sometimes fell. But I struggled onward manfully, yet
feeling a sort of sullen and reckless despair, putting up the while many
a pious prayer and ejaculation, strangely mingled with many an earnest
curse in Gaelic on Mohammed Djedda, and the architect who planned the
labyrinth, though perhaps it might have been the great Gnidian Sostrates
himself.[*] After toiling thus for some time until wearied and worn
out, I found myself in the lower vault of one of those large round
towers which are so numerous among the ancient and ruinous
fortifications of Alexandria. A round and shattered aperture, about ten
feet from the floor, admitted the pure breeze, which I inhaled greedily,
while my eyes gloated on the clear blue sky; and I felt more exquisite
delight in doing so, than even when gazing on the pure snowy bosom of
the beautiful Zela, whom, to tell you the truth, I had almost forgotten
during the quandary in which I found myself. The cry of '_Jedger
Allah!_' shouted close beside the ruinous tower, informed me I was near
the post of a Mussulman sentinel, and compelled me to act with greater
caution. I heard the cry (which answers to our 'All's well') taken up
by other sentinels at intervals, and die away among the windings of the
walls.
[*] A famous architect, who lived in the reign of one of the Ptolemies.
"By the assistance of a large stone I was enabled to reach the aperture,
through which I looked cautiously, to reconnoitre the ground. It was a
glorious evening, and the dazzling blaze of the red sun, as it verged
towards the west, was shed on the still, glassy sea, where the white
sails of armed xebecs, galleys, and British ships of war were reflected
downwards in the bosom of the ample harbour. Appearing in bold light or
shadow, as the sun poured its strong lustre upon them, I saw the long
lines of mouldering battlements,--the round domes, the taper spires and
obelisks which rose above the embrasures, where the sabres and lances of
the Turks gave back the light of the setting sun, whose farewell rays
were beaming on the pillar of Diocletian and the grey old towers of
Aboukir, from the summits of which were now waving the red colours of
Mahomet. But the beauty of the scenery had no charms for the drowsy
Moslem (whose cry I had heard, and whom I now perceived to be a cavalry
vidette,) stationed under the cool shadow of a palm-grove close by. He
was seated on a carpet, with his legs folded under him. His sabre and
dagger lay near him, drawn, and he sat without moving a muscle, smoking
with grave assiduity, and wearing his tall yellow _kouack_ very much
over his right eye, which led me to suppose that he was a smart fellow
among the Mamelukes--perceiving, to my great chagrin, that he was one of
Mohammed's savage troop. His noble Arab horse, with its arching neck
and glittering eyes, stood motionless beside him, its bridle trailing on
the ground, while it gazed with a sagacious look on the columns of
smoke, which at times curled upwards from the moustached mouth of its
master, who was staring fixedly in an opposite direction to the city. I
followed the point to which he turned his round glassy eye, and beheld,
to my inexpressible joy, an English infantry regiment--Hutchinson's
rearguard--halted under a grove of fig-trees, but alas! at a distance
far beyond the reach of my call.
"I formed at once the resolution of confronting the sentinel, and
endeavouring to escape. The moment was a precious one: the corps was
evidently about to move off, and was forming in open column of
companies, with their band in the centre.[*] While I was collecting all
my scattered energies for one desperate and headlong effort, a loud
uproar in the distant catacomb arrested me for a moment, and I heard the
terrible voice of Mohammed Djedda, exclaiming--
'_Bareh Allah!_ we shall find him yet: the passage, slaves! the passage!
By God and the holy Prophet, if the giaour escape, false dogs, ye shall
die! Forward!'
[*] Regimental bands always marched in the centre in those days.
"A confused trampling of feet, a rush and clatter followed, and I sprang
lightly through the aperture into the open air. Stealing softly towards
the unconscious Mameluke, I wreathed my hand in the flowing mane of his
Arab horse, and seizing the dangling bridle, vaulted into his wooden-box
saddle; while he, raising the cry of '_Allah, il Allah!_' sprung up like
a harlequin, and made a sweeping stroke at me with his sharp sabre. He
was about to handle his long brass-barrelled carbine, when, unhooking
the steel mace which hung at his saddle-bow, and discharging it full on
his swarthy forehead, I stretched him motionless on the earth. At that
instant Mohammed, sabre and lance in hand, rushed from the ruined tower
at the head of his followers.
"'Hoich! God save the king,--hurrah!' cried I, giving them a shout of
reckless laughter and derision, as I forced the fleet Arab steed onward,
like an arrow shot from a bow,--madly compelling it to leap high masses
of ruinous wall, blocks of marble and granite, all of which it cleared
like a greyhound, and carried me in a minute among our own people, with
whom I was safe, and under whose escort I soon rejoined the regiment,
whom I found all assured of my death,--especially the senior ensign,
Cameron, who had got off scot-free, having related the doleful story of
my brains being knocked out by the Mameluke soldier of Mohammed Djedda,
a complaint against whom was about to be lodged with the
_Shaik-el-beled_ by Lord Hutchinson, commanding the troops.
"Well, this was my adventure among the mummies, and it was one that left
a strong impression, you may be sure. How dry my throat is with
talking! Pass the decanters--the sherry jugs, I mean, whoever has them
beside him: 'tis now so dark, that I cannot see where they are."
*CHAPTER III.*
*ANOTHER NIGHT AT MERIDA.*
"The fire had resounded in the halls; and the voice of the people is
heard no more....... Desolate is the dwelling of Moina: silence is in
the house of her fathers."--_Ossian's Poems_.--Carthon.
The conversation which ensued on the close of the major's story, was
interrupted by the clatter of a horse trotting along the causewayed
street.
"That must be my batman, Jock Pentland, with my horse for the rounds,"
said Campbell impatiently. "I am sure I told the Lowland loon not to
come till the bells of San Sebastian rang the hour of ten."
"It is a dragoon, I think; but the night is so dark I am not certain,"
said Ronald, as he drew back from the open window. "He has dismounted
here."
At that moment the door opened, and the host appeared, bearing a long
candle in his hand, flaring and sputtering in the currents of air, while
he, bowing very low, introduced the Conde de Truxillo, who advanced
towards them, making his long staff plume sweep the tiles of the floor
at every bow he gave.
"Welcome, noble conde!" said Stuart, rising and introducing him to the
rest.
"Ah, Don Ronald, are you here? I am indeed proud to see you."
"You come upon us most unexpectedly, conde."
"I have been in my saddle all day," replied the other, casting himself
languidly into a chair, "and have this moment come from the quarters of
Sir Rowland Hill, for whom I had despatches--"
"From Lord Wellington?"
"Yes, caballeros."
"And Ciudad Rodrigo?" cried they eagerly.
"Has fallen--"
"Fallen?"
"Two days ago."
"Hurrah! Well done Lord Wellington!" cried Bevan, draining his glass.
"The devil!" muttered Campbell; "then we shall have no fighting with
Marmont."
"He has retreated to Salamanca," said the conde, "abandoning to its fate
the fortress, which I saw the gallant _Inglesos_ carry by storm in the
course of half-an-hour,--killing, wounding, and capturing three thousand
of the enemy."
"Glorious news, Don Balthazzar," said Ronald. "But refresh yourself:
here is sherry, and there Malaga, with cigars in abundance. After you
have rested, we shall be glad to hear an account of the assault."
"I thank you, senor caballero," said the count, providing himself.
"What is our loss?" asked Campbell. "Have many _officiales y soldados_
fallen?'
"What the allies suffered I have never heard,--at least 'twas not known
when I left for Castello Branco; but two brave general officers have
been slain."
"Their names, conde?"
"Crawfurd and Mackinnon: one fell dead while I was speaking to him."
"Gallant fellows they were, and countrymen of our own, too!" said
Campbell, gulping down his sherry with a dolorous sigh. "But 'tis the
fortune of war: every bullet has its billet,--their fate to-day may be
ours to-morrow."
During a long discussion which ensued upon the news brought by the
conde, the latter had applied himself to the remnants of the tocino and
huevos, with infinite relish.
"I wonder what the despatches for Sir Rowland may contain?" observed
Captain Bevan, supposing that the conde might throw some light on the
matter; but the hungry Espanol was too busy to hear him.
"Most likely an order to retrace our steps," replied Campbell. "I would
wager my majority against a maravedi, that you will find it to be the
case."
"Very probably. The devil! we are a mere corps of observation just
now."
"It was not wont to be so with the second division," observed Kennedy.
"Never mind," replied Campbell; "it will be our turn in good time. I
drink this horn to outmost noble selves, and---- Hah! there are the
bells of San Sebastian. I must be off to visit these confounded
picquets: my horse will be here immediately."
The major rose and buckled on Andrea, surveying with a sour look the
long line of equi-distant fires which were glowing afar off,--marking
the chain of out-posts, around the base of the mountain, and along the
level plain.
"Here comes my batman, Jock," said he, looking into the street.
"Pentland, my man; is that you?"
"Ay, sir!" replied a soldier, dressed in his white shell-jacket and
kilt, as he rode a horse up to the door and dismounted.
"You are a punctual fellow. Desire Senor Raphael, the inn-keeper, to
give you a canteen full of aquardiente. Are the holsters on, the
pistols loaded, and fresh flinted?"
"A's richt, sir," replied the groom, raising his hand to his flat
bonnet.
"I will see you again, lads, when we get under arms in the morning,"
said Campbell, enveloping himself in an immense blue cloak.
"How, major! Are you so fond of bivouacking, that you mean to sleep
with the out-picquets?"
"Not quite, Alister; but I mean to finish the night at Fassifern's
billet, and fight our battles and broils in Egypt over again for the
entertainment of his host, a rich old canon, who is said to have in his
cellars some of the best wine on this side the peak of Ossian."[*]
[*] A high peak of the Pyrennean mountains.
"Do not forget, senor, to make the reverend Padre's borachio-skins gush
forth like a river," said the conde. "A priest would as soon part with
his heart's blood, as his wine to a stranger."