The courage of Morsinia when she appeared before Mahomet had been
stimulated by an event which occurred a little before her summons.
She was sitting by the latticed window in the house of Phranza. It
overlooked the wall surrounding the garden, which on that side was a
narrow enclosure. This had been her favorite resort in brighter days.
From it she could see what passed in the broad highway beyond, while
the close latticed woodwork prevented her being seen by those without.
While musing there she was strangely attracted by an officer who
frequently passed. His shape and stature reminded her strongly of
Constantine. As he turned his face toward the mansion the features
seemed identical with those of her foster brother. Recovering from the
stroke of surprise this apparition gave her, Morsinia rubbed her eyes
to make sure she was not dreaming, and looked again. He was in
conversation with another. It could not be Constantine, for, aside
from the general belief in Constantine's death before the termination
of the siege, this person was saluted with great reverence by the
soldiers who passed by, and approached with familiarity by other
officers of rank.
The sight brought into vivid conviction what had long been her day
dream, namely, that Michael, her childhood playmate, might be living,
and if so, would probably be among the Turkish soldiers; for his
goodly physique and talent, displayed as a lad, would certainly have
been cultivated by his captors. She now felt certain of her theory. So
strong was the impression, and so active and exciting her thoughts as
she endeavored to devise a way by which the discovery might be
utilized to the advantage of both, that even the loathsome splendor of
the Sultan's garden party, had not impressed her as it otherwise would
have done.
For several days after she was almost oblivious to the monotony of the
harem life; so busy was she with her new problem. She determined that,
at any cost, she would bring herself into communication with the
officer, and, if her theory should be confirmed, declare herself, and
boldly propose that he should rescue her. For she could not conceive
that, however much he had become accustomed to Turkish life, he had
lost all yearning for his liberty and all impression of his Christian
faith.
But how could she convey any intelligence to him? Except through the
eunuchs, the inmates of the harem had little communication with the
outer world. The customs of life there were as inflexible as the
walls.
To her natural ingenuity, now so quickened by necessity and hope,
there at length appeared an end thread of the tangle. The women of the
harem relieved the tedium of their existence by making various
articles, the construction of which might not mar the delicacy of
their fingers; such as needlework upon their own clothing, coverings
for cushions, curtains, tapestried hangings, spreads for couches,
cases in which the Koran could be kept so that even when being read
it need not be touched by the fingers, bags of scented powders, and
the like. Many of these articles were disposed of at the bazaars of
the city, and the proceeds spent by the odalisks at their own caprice;
generally for confections and gew-gaws. At the time there was quite a
demand for articles made in the harem. Many thousands of Moslems had
been imported from Asia Minor to take the place of the rapidly
disappearing Greek population. Large stores of articles were sent from
the great harem at Adrianople, and sold for fabulous prices in the
bazaars of Stamboul, as the new capital was called by the Turks. The
agents for the sale of these things were generally the female
attendants at the harem, who had free association with the bazaar
keepers. Sometimes these women sold directly to the individual
purchasers without going to the trade places. An officer or young
citizen was often inveigled into buying, and paying exorbitant prices
too, on hearing that some odalisk had set longing eyes upon him, and
wrought the purse or belt, the dagger-sheath or embroidered jacket, as
a special evidence of her favor. Many were the stories which the
gallants of the city and garrison were accustomed to tell, as they
displayed their purchases, about nocturnal adventures, in which they
were guided only by a pair of bright eyes, and of favors received from
beauties whose names, of course, prudence forbade them to mention. All
the traditions of lovers, romances of moon-shadowed grottoes, and all
the stories of castles with the thread at the window, that have been
told from the beginning of the world, had their counterpart in those
the swains of Stamboul told about the Sultan's earthly paradise at
Adrianople, or those which, in their amatory bantering, they had made
to cluster about the villa of the late Phranza at the new capital.
An old woman, who, formerly a servant in the harem, had been given by
the Validé Sultana, the mother of Amurath, to a subaltern officer as
wife, but had long been a widow, was permitted freely to enter the
haremlik, and engaged as a convenient broker between those within and
those without. One day Morsinia, in giving her some of her handiwork
for sale, held up an elegant case of silk containing several little
crystals, or phials, of atar of roses.
"Kala-Hanoum, do you know the young Captain Ballaban?"
"Ay, the Knight of the Golden Horn?" asked the woman.
"And why do they call him that?"
"Because," she replied, "his head glows like one, I suppose."
"Yes, he is the man--Well! find him--Tell him any story you please
about my beauty."
"I need not invent one; I must only tell the truth to bewitch him,"
replied the old dame, with real fondness and admiration. "But that
will be difficult. I can invent a lie better than describe the truth,
unless you help me."
"Well," said Morsinia, "tell him as much truth about my appearance as
you can, and invent the rest. Tell him--let me see--that my eyes are
as bright as the stars that shine above the Balkans."
"Do they shine there more brilliantly than here where they make their
toilet in the Bosphorus?" asked the woman.
"Oh! yes," said Morsinia, "for the air is clearest there of any place
on the earth. Tell him, too, that my teeth are as white as the snows
that lie in the pass of Slatiza."
"Where is that?" queried the messenger.
"Oh! it is a grotto I have heard of, that lies very high up toward the
sky, where the snows are unsoiled by passing through the clouds,
which, you know, always tints them. And then tell him that altogether
I am as queenly as--as--well! as the wonderful Elizabeth Morsiney, the
bride of the Christian king Sigismund."
"Elizabeth Morsiney? yes, I will remember that name, if some day you
will tell me her story."
"That I will," said Morsinia. "And tell the young officer that the
odalisk who made this lovely case has dreamed of him ever since she
was a child."
"He cannot resist that," said the woman.
"But you must sell it to no one else. And see this elegant sash of
cashmere! I will give it to you to sell on your own account, Hanoum,
if you bring me some sure evidence that he has bought the case of
perfume. And be sure to tell him that just when the sun is setting he
must go somewhere alone, and look at the sun through each of the
little phials, and he may see the face of her who sent them; for you
know that a true lover can always see the one who sends a phial of
atar of roses in the sun glints from its sides. And when you bring me
evidence that he has bought it, then, good Kala, you shall have the
sash of cashmere." The old woman's cupidity hastened her feet upon
her errand.