One evening the lower Bosphorus and the Golden Horn were alive with
barges and skiffs, which cut the glowing water with their spray-plumed
prows and flashing blades. Thus the tired day toilers were accustomed
to seek rest, and the idlers of fashion endeavored to quicken their
blood in the cool wind which, from the heights of the Phrygian
Olympus, poured across the sea of Marmora. The Emperor, attended by
one of his favorite pages, appeared upon the rocky slope which is now
known as Seraglio Point. A number of boats, containing the ladies and
gentlemen of the court, drew near to the shore. It was the custom of
his majesty to accept the brief hospitality of one and another of
these parties, and for the others to keep company with him; so that
the evening sail was not unlike a saloon reception upon the water. The
dais of Phranza's boat was, on the evening to which we refer,
occupied by Morsinia alone; and, as the rowers raised the oars in
salute of his majesty, he waved his hand playfully to the others,
saying:
"The chamberlain is so occupied to-day that he has no time to attend
to his own household. I will take his place, with the permission of
the dove of Albania."
"Your Majesty needs rest," said Morsinia, making place for him at her
side on the dais, which filled the stern of the barge, and over which
hung a silken awning. "Your face, Sire, betokens too much thought
to-day."
Throwing himself down, he replied lazily: "I would that our boat were
seized by some sea sprite, and borne swift as the lightnings to where
the sun yonder is making his rest, beyond the Hellespont, beyond the
pillars of Hercules, beyond the world! But you shall be my sprite for
the hour. Your conversation, so different to that of the court, your
charming Arnaout accent, and thoughts as natural as your mountain
flowers, always lead me away from myself."
"I thank heaven, Sire, if Jesu gives to me that holy ministry,"
replied she blushing deeply and diverting the conversation. "But why
are you so sad when everything is so beautiful about us? Is it right
to carry always the burden of empire upon your heart?"
"Alas!" replied he, "I must carry the burden while I can, for the time
may not be far distant when I shall have no empire to burden me.
Events are untoward. While Sultan Amurath lives our treaty will
prevent any attack upon the city. But if another should direct the
Moslem affairs, our walls yonder would soon shake with the assault of
the enemy of Christendom. Nothing but the union of the Christian
powers can save us."
"And you have the union with Rome?" suggested Morsinia.
"A union of shadows to withstand an avalanche," replied the Emperor.
"The Pope is impotent. He can only promise a score of galleys and his
good offices with the powers. At the same time our monks have almost
raised an insurrection against the throne for listening to the
proposition of alliance to which my lamented brother subscribed during
the last days of his reign."
"But God," replied Morsinia, "is wiser than we, and will not allow the
throne of the righteous to be shaken. I have looked to-day at the
marvellous dome of St. Sophia. As I gazed into its mighty vault, and
thought of the great weight of the stones which made it, I looked
about to see upon what it rested. The light columns and walls, far
spread, seemed all insufficient to support it. As I stood looking, I
was at first so filled with fear that I dared not linger. But then I
remembered that a great architect had made it; and that so it had
stood for many centuries, and had trembled with songs of praise from
millions upon millions of worshippers who in all these generations
have gathered under it. Then I stood as quietly beneath it as I am now
under the great vault of the sky. And surely, Sire, this Christian
empire was founded in deeper wisdom than that of the architect. Are
not the pillars of God's promises its sure support? Have not holy men
said that so long as the face of Jesu[67] looks down from above the
great altar, the sceptre shall not depart from him who worships before
it?"
"But," said Palælogus, "God rejects His people for their sins. The
empire's misfortunes have not been greater than its crimes. As the
rising mists return in rain, so the sins of Constantinople, rising for
centuries, will return with storms of righteous retribution. And I
fear it will be in our day; for the clouds hang low, and mutter
ominously, and there is no bright spot within the horizon."
"Say not so, my Emperor!" cried Morsinia earnestly. "A breath of wind
is now scattering yonder cloud over Olympus; and the lightest moving
of God's will can do more. Do you not remember the words of a holy
father, which I have often heard one of our Latin priests repeat to
those fearful because of their past lives;--'Beware lest thou carry
compunctions for the past after thou hast repented and prayed. That is
to doubt God's grace.' But I am a child, Sire, and should not speak
thus to the Emperor."
"A child?" said his majesty, gazing upon her superb form and strong
womanly features. "Well! a child can see as far into the sky as the
most learned and venerable; and your faith, my child, rests me more
than all the earth-drawn assurances of my counsellors. Where have you
learned so to trust? I would willingly spend my days in the convent of
Athos or Monastir to learn it! But I fear me the holy monks have it
not of so strong and serene a sort as yours."
"I have learned it, Sire, as my heart has read it from my own life. My
years are scarcely more numerous than my rescues have been, when to
human sight there was no escape from death, or what I dreaded worse
than death. I have learned to hold a hand that I see not; and it has
never failed. Nor will it fail the anointed of the Lord; for such thou
art. But see! yonder comes my brother Constantine. I know him from his
rowing. They who learn the oars on mountain lakes never get the stroke
they have who learn it at the sea."
The Emperor turning in the direction indicated, frowned, and said
angrily,
"Your brother has forgotten the regulations, and is in danger of
discipline for rowing within the lines allowed only to the court."
The boat came nearer; not steadily, but turning to right and left,
stopping and starting as if directed by something at a distance which
the rower was watching.
The Emperor's attention was turned almost at the same instant to a
light boat shooting toward them from an opposite direction. The
occupant of this was a monk. His black locks, mingled with his black
beard, gave a wildness to his appearance, which was increased by the
excited and rapid manner of his propelling the craft.
"Something unusual has occurred, or they would wait the finding of
another messenger than he," said the Emperor.
The monk's boat glided swiftly. When within a few yards of the barge
in which the Emperor was the man stood up, his eyes flashing, and his
whole attitude that of some vengeful fiend. "Hold!" shouted the rowers
of the royal barge, endeavoring to turn the craft so as to avoid a
collision.
"The man is crazed!" said Morsinia.
But at the instant when the two boats would have come together,
another, that of Constantine, shot between them and received the blow.
Its thin sides were broken by the shock.
The monk who had come to the very prow, and drawn a knife from his
bosom, cried out, "To the devil with the Prince of the Azymites."[68]
He leaped upon Constantine's boat in order to reach that containing
the Emperor: but was caught in the strong arms of Constantine who fell
with him into the water. The monk gripped with his antagonist so that
they sank together. In a few seconds, however, Constantine emerged. A
thin streamer of blood floated from him. He was drawn upon the barge.
Morsinia's hand tore off the loose gold-laced jacket, and found the
wound to be a deep, but not dangerous flesh cut across the shoulder.
It was several moments before the monk appeared. He gasped and sank
again forever.
Constantine stated that the day before, while aiding in the erection
of a platform for some small culverin that Urban had cast, the latter
spoke to him of the marvellous mosaic ornamentation in the vestibule
of the little church just beyond the walls, and took him thither. The
monk was there, and passed in and out, evidently demented, and
muttering to himself curses upon the Latinizers. Constantine thought
little of this at the time; for a mad monk was not an uncommon sight
in the city. But observing the same man at the quay hiring a boat, he
determined to watch him. Hence the sequel.
FOOTNOTES:
[67] A face of Christ was wrought in mosaic in the wall above the
chancel of St. Sophia. The Turks still have a traditional saying that
the Christian shall not again possess Constantinople until the face of
Jesus appears visibly in St. Sophia. At the time of its capture by the
Moslems this picture of Christ was painted over. It is now again dimly
discerned through the fading and scaling paint.
[68] The "Azymites" were those who used unleavened bread in the
sacrament, and at the time of which we are writing the word was used
among the Greeks as a term of reproach to the Latinizers, that is,
those who favored union with the Latin Church.