Volume Three—Chapter Six.

Volume Three—Chapter Six.Perfect tranquillity reigned in the valley of Abran Bashi, far removed from the loud tocsin of war which hung round the borders, though news occasionally arrived of skirmishes with the Moscov, and sometimes a wounded warrior would come to be recovered by the care of his family.At times, too, wailing and weeping was heard, when a family received intelligence of some dear relation having fallen in the fight; or a sad train would pass through the valley, accompanying the corpse of some noble, borne on his war-steed, who had lost his life in one of the many useless attacks which were at that time made on the Russian lines; more for bravado, and for the sake of exhibiting bravery and fearlessness of consequences—the characteristic of the Circassian warrior—than for any advantage to be gained.Notwithstanding the predictions of the old chief, Thaddeus began to hope that the Khan, Khoros Kaloret, had foregone all farther attempts to carry off Ina; and, being ignorant by what hand his clansman had fallen, he would be unable to fix his revenge on any one. Thus all dread of evil consequences left his mind; and even Ina no longer feared to renew her rambles under his protection beyond even her former limits, though sure of receiving a severe lecture from old Kahija after each transgression.We have as yet given but a slight sketch of her beautiful friend, the young Zara: she was like a sweet rose-bud, fresh and blooming, ere the first rays of the morning sun have dissipated the crystal dew; a complete child of nature. Brought up in that secluded valley, she knew nought of the world beyond the lofty mountains that surrounded it. Within that spot all her thoughts and hopes had been concentrated; she loved her pure streams, her verdant fields, and her shady groves, and grateful to the kind nature who placed her there; she was happy and contented, and would have felt miserable at the idea of leaving them, undazzled even by old Kahija’s descriptions of the gorgeous Stamboul. Her character was pure as her own sweet face; she seemed formed for love and tenderness alone, unfit to buffet with the cares and troubles of the world. Like a delicate plant, requiring some strong tree round which to entwine its slender tendrils, to gain strength and support from it. Her temper was sweet and amiable to all; and even old Kahija’s lectures failed to ruffle her. Dutiful and obedient to her only remaining parent, she tended him in sickness with the most gentle and unremitting care; and dearly in return did the old chief love his little Zara.Her features were soft and feminine as her character; she was beautifully fair; her delicate auburn locks hung over her swan-like neck in rich profusion, her large eyes of purest blue were shaded by dark lashes, adding to their tender and languishing glance, while a smile playing round her ruby lips, betokened a happy and contented heart. Her figure, though equally graceful, was shorter and fuller than her friend’s; but none could deem it otherwise than perfect.Such seemed the fair young being who had bestowed all her pure and warm affections on the gallant and youthful warrior, Alp Beg, and truly did he prize the treasured girl he had won.He had been loved from his childhood by her grandfather for his courage and activity in all manly sports, and now gladly did the old chief accord his sanction to their union, which he had arranged with the Hadji before his departure for the camp. As yet the fair girl knew not that her hopes were to be fulfilled, for though Alp had found time to whisper his love, neither knew that their parents would give their sanction to their marriage; and often would sad forebodings for the future cross her otherwise tranquil mind, fears that their union might be forbid, or that he might be snatched from her by the cruel Urus.The two fair girls were seated on an ottoman in the anderoon, while Ina worked a belt with golden thread, her first gift to Thaddeus. Zara struck the cords of her lute.How sweet and thrilling was her voice, as she sang the following simple ballad:—The sun shone like glittering gold on the lake,While softly the breeze through the green forest play’d;The birds sang their gay notes from rock and from brake,And sweet odours sprung from each flowery glade;There was heard too a fountain’s light murmuring voice,And nature in smiles seemed with glee to rejoice.Though nature was smiling, yet sorrow was nigh,For near a pure stream, ’neath a green willow’s shade,With her quick panting bosom, a bright weeping eye,There stood, trembling with fear, a fair Attèghèi maid,As a gallant youth, pressing her form in his arms,Sought, with love’s parting kisses, to calm her alarms.Mid the clustering forest his charger stood near.And, his streaming mane tossing, was stamping the ground;His squire was holding his buckler and spear,While from far off came booming the cannon’s deep sound.One more agonised pang, and he tore him away,And mounted his war-steed to join the affray,But as slowly he rode through the green leafy wood,With a lingering pace he oft turned his fond gaze,To cast one more glance where his lov’d maiden stood,Till soon she was hid by the thick forest maze;Then, spurring his charger with speed o’er the lee,Soon with fear did the foemen his dancing crest see.Like the willow which gracefully bent o’er the stream.The maiden stood tremb’ling and drooping with grief,Like the dew of the morn did those precious drops seem,When the bright sun-beams play on the spark’ling green leaf.Ah! cruel the war that could make her thus mourn!Ah! sad ’twas to leave that sweet maiden forlorn!Then rising, she clomb o’er the mountain so high,And she look’d o’er the hill and she look’d down the vale;Saw joyous in fancy his gay banner fly,When her ear caught the sound of a funeral wail.Through the glen, as advancing with mournful slow tread,A train bore the bier of a warrior dead.Then fearful and fleet as the chas’d deer she flew,Down the steep mountain’s side, over chasm and brake.For well the bright arms of her hero she knew;Not the whirlwind’s swift course could her flight overtake.Then she threw herself down her slain lover beside;She sigh’d not, she wept not, but heart-broken died.As she finished, tears stood in her eyes, and her voice trembled at the last lines.“Why sing you that mournful ditty, dear Zara?” said her friend. “It is too sad for one, whose eye sorrow has not dimmed, to sing.”“I know not why I sing it,” answered Zara; “but I could not help it, the words came flowing to my lips.”“Who taught you so sad an air?” asked Ina.“A venerable bard who travelled once this way. His steps were feeble, and his locks were blanched with years, and, as he rested at our house he sang this air, gazing sorrowfully at my face, and made me learn these words, I know not why. He went his way, nor ever have I seen him since: but still, at times, a sadness comes upon me, and I sing this song.”A deep-drawn sob was heard from the corner of the apartment where the young Conrin had thrown himself on a divan.“Come hither, Conrin,” said Ina, in tones of kindness. He had been weeping; for his eyes were red and his features wore an air of sadness.“Why do you weep, dear Conrin? What makes you thus sorrowful?”“Sad thoughts and feelings,” answered the page. “I have much to make me weep: but it was that song overcame me. I wept for the sad forebodings that it brought upon my soul, for myself I care not, but for those I have learned to love.”“What causes have you for grief, dear boy?” said Ina. “Are you not happy here, where all so love you?”“I cannot tell you, lady,” answered the page.“Why not tell me your grief? Perchance, confiding it to me, I may aid to mitigate it,” said Ina.“Oh no, it is impossible; my grief is too deep for consolation; it is a secret I shall never tell,” answered the page.“But, I may find a means to soothe it,” urged Ina.“Lady, pray deem me not ungrateful; but again, I beseech you, let me leave you,” exclaimed Conrin. “I love you much; but yet, I love your noble brother more. The only balm you can give to soothe me is to let me go to him.”“But, why would you leave this calm retreat to hasten amidst scenes of war and bloodshed?” said Ina.“I would go to my master, wherever he may be, lady,” answered Conrin. “I fear some danger threatens him; I know not what, but dark forebodings steal across my soul. I cannot look upon the future as I used to do, hoping for days of brightness and joy; my heart no longer bounds as it was wont, with thoughts of happiness. Oh let me seek my master, that I may guard him from the threatened harm, if still I may! I would too, gaze upon his loved features once again before I die, for too surely do I feel the troubled inward spirit preparing for its flight to quit this world. I feel that nothing can avert my death, come how it may.”“Boy, you speak of strange, mysterious things,” exclaimed Ina, in an alarmed tone. “Why think you danger threatens my dear brother? and why these sad forebodings of your own fate?”“Lady, I come of a race who oft see things hidden from duller eyes; and once, it is said, our ancestors could foretell either the death of mortals, or their destiny; but the power has passed away, as we have mixed our blood with other tribes. Yet, even now, we often see the shadow of a coming evil; and it is a curse upon our race, that we cannot guard against it when it threatens ourselves. For others yet we may, and thus I would attempt to guard my master.”“Conrin, you persuade me strongly to let you go; and for my dear brother’s sake I will, though I should be loath to part from you. Oh, shield him, if you can, from danger, and may Allah bless you!”“Thanks, lady, thanks! Even now my spirits lighten of their load,” exclaimed Conrin. “I would set off this day; another may be too late.”“You cannot journey alone, on that road, dear page,” said Ina; “you shall accompany the first band of warriors who set forward for the camp.”“Oh, I would find my way alone, through every obstacle, to meet your noble brother,” said the boy, eagerly.“Conrin, that cannot be; you know not half the dangers which would beset you on the road. To-morrow, perhaps, some warriors may go forth. You said you had a secret that you would not tell; but let me hear it; for much do I love you, for the affection which you bear my brother; and much it pains my heart to think that yours must bleed without a sympathising friend, to soothe your pain. Ah! how blind I have been! a thought has opened now my eyes. Come hither; let me whisper to your ear.”The gentle Ina bent over her page’s head. A deep blush suffused the boy’s cheeks; his eyes filled with tears.“Ah! it is so? Let me weep with you,” she cried. “But, be of good hope, all may yet be well. Such love as yours cannot go unrequited.”Old Kahija was certain to intrude when she was least wanted; and at that instant she made her appearance, hobbling in, for she was somewhat unwieldy in her gait. Her cheeks almost burst with impatience to communicate some important information.“Here’s news for you, young ladies, from the camp,” she exclaimed. “Ah, Zara, my pretty maid, you’ll not have to sigh much longer, I am thinking, for the young Alp. Now, girls, what would you give to have the information? Your best earrings, I warrant; but I am not cruel, and will keep you no longer in suspense,” she added, as eager to communicate the news, as the fair inmates of the harem were to hear it. “Know then, my pretty Zara, that our noble chief, your grandfather, has given his sanction for your marriage with young Alp Beg, and in a short time, he will be here to bear you from us.”“Speak you the words of truth, Kahija?” exclaimed Zara, blushing, but looking perfectly happy, as she threw herself upon Ina’s neck. “Oh, say when he will come?”“He has sent some one to deliver a message to you; therefore wrap your features closely in a veil, and go out to the gate of the anderoon. And that reminds me there is some one to see you, Conrin, from your master.”“Ah!” exclaimed the page, hastening to the door. “What joy to hear of him.”“A messenger from my brother!” cried Ina. “I too, must learn what news he brings.”At the gates of the anderoon, Conrin found Javis waiting his coming.“I bring news from our master, for his sister,” said the squire. “In a few days he will be here, and then I must quit his service, if I can return to Russia. I have fulfilled my oath, I have obeyed your wish; no mortal, with a spirit that could feel, would do more.”“Javis, I owe you much;” exclaimed the page. “I would repay you with my life; but the only reward you prize, alas! I cannot give.”“I ask for no reward,” answered Javis; “the only one I prize, alas! I cannot gain; and after that, death will be the most welcome. But I would see my people first, and breathe my spirit out amongst them. I have done your bidding. I vowed to do what you wished, nor stipulated for reward. I rescued the young chief from the power of the Russians; I have striven to wash away my thought of crime almost perpetrated; I saw him safely landed on his native shores; I have seen him take his place among his people, as a chieftain of Circassia: I even learned to love him for himself, but more I cannot do. I could not bear to see him again at your side; I must go even from you.”The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Ina and Zara.“Say, when will my brother come?” exclaimed Ina. “Oh, ’twill be joy to see him.”“In three days hence, if the Russians move not from their encampments,” answered Javis.“Bring you any message for me?” said Zara, timidly addressing a young warrior, who respectfully saluted her at her approach.“Yes, lady, I bear a message from my friend, the gallant Alp Beg. Before two days have passed, and ere the shade of yonder lofty tree has reached the stream which flows a short distance from its base, he will be here.”“You bring me grateful news, indeed. Oh, many thanks!” returned Zara. “Say, is your friend well?”“Yes, lady, he is well; and bears himself bravely against the foe,” answered the messenger.“Come, come, maidens,” exclaimed Kahija, bustling up. “It is very incorrect to stop chattering longer than is necessary at the gate of the anderoon. If you have received your messages, come into the house, and let the young men go their way.”Having no further excuse for remaining, the fair girls were obliged to do as desired, though they would fain have heard more of those so dear to them.

Perfect tranquillity reigned in the valley of Abran Bashi, far removed from the loud tocsin of war which hung round the borders, though news occasionally arrived of skirmishes with the Moscov, and sometimes a wounded warrior would come to be recovered by the care of his family.

At times, too, wailing and weeping was heard, when a family received intelligence of some dear relation having fallen in the fight; or a sad train would pass through the valley, accompanying the corpse of some noble, borne on his war-steed, who had lost his life in one of the many useless attacks which were at that time made on the Russian lines; more for bravado, and for the sake of exhibiting bravery and fearlessness of consequences—the characteristic of the Circassian warrior—than for any advantage to be gained.

Notwithstanding the predictions of the old chief, Thaddeus began to hope that the Khan, Khoros Kaloret, had foregone all farther attempts to carry off Ina; and, being ignorant by what hand his clansman had fallen, he would be unable to fix his revenge on any one. Thus all dread of evil consequences left his mind; and even Ina no longer feared to renew her rambles under his protection beyond even her former limits, though sure of receiving a severe lecture from old Kahija after each transgression.

We have as yet given but a slight sketch of her beautiful friend, the young Zara: she was like a sweet rose-bud, fresh and blooming, ere the first rays of the morning sun have dissipated the crystal dew; a complete child of nature. Brought up in that secluded valley, she knew nought of the world beyond the lofty mountains that surrounded it. Within that spot all her thoughts and hopes had been concentrated; she loved her pure streams, her verdant fields, and her shady groves, and grateful to the kind nature who placed her there; she was happy and contented, and would have felt miserable at the idea of leaving them, undazzled even by old Kahija’s descriptions of the gorgeous Stamboul. Her character was pure as her own sweet face; she seemed formed for love and tenderness alone, unfit to buffet with the cares and troubles of the world. Like a delicate plant, requiring some strong tree round which to entwine its slender tendrils, to gain strength and support from it. Her temper was sweet and amiable to all; and even old Kahija’s lectures failed to ruffle her. Dutiful and obedient to her only remaining parent, she tended him in sickness with the most gentle and unremitting care; and dearly in return did the old chief love his little Zara.

Her features were soft and feminine as her character; she was beautifully fair; her delicate auburn locks hung over her swan-like neck in rich profusion, her large eyes of purest blue were shaded by dark lashes, adding to their tender and languishing glance, while a smile playing round her ruby lips, betokened a happy and contented heart. Her figure, though equally graceful, was shorter and fuller than her friend’s; but none could deem it otherwise than perfect.

Such seemed the fair young being who had bestowed all her pure and warm affections on the gallant and youthful warrior, Alp Beg, and truly did he prize the treasured girl he had won.

He had been loved from his childhood by her grandfather for his courage and activity in all manly sports, and now gladly did the old chief accord his sanction to their union, which he had arranged with the Hadji before his departure for the camp. As yet the fair girl knew not that her hopes were to be fulfilled, for though Alp had found time to whisper his love, neither knew that their parents would give their sanction to their marriage; and often would sad forebodings for the future cross her otherwise tranquil mind, fears that their union might be forbid, or that he might be snatched from her by the cruel Urus.

The two fair girls were seated on an ottoman in the anderoon, while Ina worked a belt with golden thread, her first gift to Thaddeus. Zara struck the cords of her lute.

How sweet and thrilling was her voice, as she sang the following simple ballad:—

The sun shone like glittering gold on the lake,While softly the breeze through the green forest play’d;The birds sang their gay notes from rock and from brake,And sweet odours sprung from each flowery glade;There was heard too a fountain’s light murmuring voice,And nature in smiles seemed with glee to rejoice.Though nature was smiling, yet sorrow was nigh,For near a pure stream, ’neath a green willow’s shade,With her quick panting bosom, a bright weeping eye,There stood, trembling with fear, a fair Attèghèi maid,As a gallant youth, pressing her form in his arms,Sought, with love’s parting kisses, to calm her alarms.Mid the clustering forest his charger stood near.And, his streaming mane tossing, was stamping the ground;His squire was holding his buckler and spear,While from far off came booming the cannon’s deep sound.One more agonised pang, and he tore him away,And mounted his war-steed to join the affray,But as slowly he rode through the green leafy wood,With a lingering pace he oft turned his fond gaze,To cast one more glance where his lov’d maiden stood,Till soon she was hid by the thick forest maze;Then, spurring his charger with speed o’er the lee,Soon with fear did the foemen his dancing crest see.Like the willow which gracefully bent o’er the stream.The maiden stood tremb’ling and drooping with grief,Like the dew of the morn did those precious drops seem,When the bright sun-beams play on the spark’ling green leaf.Ah! cruel the war that could make her thus mourn!Ah! sad ’twas to leave that sweet maiden forlorn!Then rising, she clomb o’er the mountain so high,And she look’d o’er the hill and she look’d down the vale;Saw joyous in fancy his gay banner fly,When her ear caught the sound of a funeral wail.Through the glen, as advancing with mournful slow tread,A train bore the bier of a warrior dead.Then fearful and fleet as the chas’d deer she flew,Down the steep mountain’s side, over chasm and brake.For well the bright arms of her hero she knew;Not the whirlwind’s swift course could her flight overtake.Then she threw herself down her slain lover beside;She sigh’d not, she wept not, but heart-broken died.

The sun shone like glittering gold on the lake,While softly the breeze through the green forest play’d;The birds sang their gay notes from rock and from brake,And sweet odours sprung from each flowery glade;There was heard too a fountain’s light murmuring voice,And nature in smiles seemed with glee to rejoice.Though nature was smiling, yet sorrow was nigh,For near a pure stream, ’neath a green willow’s shade,With her quick panting bosom, a bright weeping eye,There stood, trembling with fear, a fair Attèghèi maid,As a gallant youth, pressing her form in his arms,Sought, with love’s parting kisses, to calm her alarms.Mid the clustering forest his charger stood near.And, his streaming mane tossing, was stamping the ground;His squire was holding his buckler and spear,While from far off came booming the cannon’s deep sound.One more agonised pang, and he tore him away,And mounted his war-steed to join the affray,But as slowly he rode through the green leafy wood,With a lingering pace he oft turned his fond gaze,To cast one more glance where his lov’d maiden stood,Till soon she was hid by the thick forest maze;Then, spurring his charger with speed o’er the lee,Soon with fear did the foemen his dancing crest see.Like the willow which gracefully bent o’er the stream.The maiden stood tremb’ling and drooping with grief,Like the dew of the morn did those precious drops seem,When the bright sun-beams play on the spark’ling green leaf.Ah! cruel the war that could make her thus mourn!Ah! sad ’twas to leave that sweet maiden forlorn!Then rising, she clomb o’er the mountain so high,And she look’d o’er the hill and she look’d down the vale;Saw joyous in fancy his gay banner fly,When her ear caught the sound of a funeral wail.Through the glen, as advancing with mournful slow tread,A train bore the bier of a warrior dead.Then fearful and fleet as the chas’d deer she flew,Down the steep mountain’s side, over chasm and brake.For well the bright arms of her hero she knew;Not the whirlwind’s swift course could her flight overtake.Then she threw herself down her slain lover beside;She sigh’d not, she wept not, but heart-broken died.

As she finished, tears stood in her eyes, and her voice trembled at the last lines.

“Why sing you that mournful ditty, dear Zara?” said her friend. “It is too sad for one, whose eye sorrow has not dimmed, to sing.”

“I know not why I sing it,” answered Zara; “but I could not help it, the words came flowing to my lips.”

“Who taught you so sad an air?” asked Ina.

“A venerable bard who travelled once this way. His steps were feeble, and his locks were blanched with years, and, as he rested at our house he sang this air, gazing sorrowfully at my face, and made me learn these words, I know not why. He went his way, nor ever have I seen him since: but still, at times, a sadness comes upon me, and I sing this song.”

A deep-drawn sob was heard from the corner of the apartment where the young Conrin had thrown himself on a divan.

“Come hither, Conrin,” said Ina, in tones of kindness. He had been weeping; for his eyes were red and his features wore an air of sadness.

“Why do you weep, dear Conrin? What makes you thus sorrowful?”

“Sad thoughts and feelings,” answered the page. “I have much to make me weep: but it was that song overcame me. I wept for the sad forebodings that it brought upon my soul, for myself I care not, but for those I have learned to love.”

“What causes have you for grief, dear boy?” said Ina. “Are you not happy here, where all so love you?”

“I cannot tell you, lady,” answered the page.

“Why not tell me your grief? Perchance, confiding it to me, I may aid to mitigate it,” said Ina.

“Oh no, it is impossible; my grief is too deep for consolation; it is a secret I shall never tell,” answered the page.

“But, I may find a means to soothe it,” urged Ina.

“Lady, pray deem me not ungrateful; but again, I beseech you, let me leave you,” exclaimed Conrin. “I love you much; but yet, I love your noble brother more. The only balm you can give to soothe me is to let me go to him.”

“But, why would you leave this calm retreat to hasten amidst scenes of war and bloodshed?” said Ina.

“I would go to my master, wherever he may be, lady,” answered Conrin. “I fear some danger threatens him; I know not what, but dark forebodings steal across my soul. I cannot look upon the future as I used to do, hoping for days of brightness and joy; my heart no longer bounds as it was wont, with thoughts of happiness. Oh let me seek my master, that I may guard him from the threatened harm, if still I may! I would too, gaze upon his loved features once again before I die, for too surely do I feel the troubled inward spirit preparing for its flight to quit this world. I feel that nothing can avert my death, come how it may.”

“Boy, you speak of strange, mysterious things,” exclaimed Ina, in an alarmed tone. “Why think you danger threatens my dear brother? and why these sad forebodings of your own fate?”

“Lady, I come of a race who oft see things hidden from duller eyes; and once, it is said, our ancestors could foretell either the death of mortals, or their destiny; but the power has passed away, as we have mixed our blood with other tribes. Yet, even now, we often see the shadow of a coming evil; and it is a curse upon our race, that we cannot guard against it when it threatens ourselves. For others yet we may, and thus I would attempt to guard my master.”

“Conrin, you persuade me strongly to let you go; and for my dear brother’s sake I will, though I should be loath to part from you. Oh, shield him, if you can, from danger, and may Allah bless you!”

“Thanks, lady, thanks! Even now my spirits lighten of their load,” exclaimed Conrin. “I would set off this day; another may be too late.”

“You cannot journey alone, on that road, dear page,” said Ina; “you shall accompany the first band of warriors who set forward for the camp.”

“Oh, I would find my way alone, through every obstacle, to meet your noble brother,” said the boy, eagerly.

“Conrin, that cannot be; you know not half the dangers which would beset you on the road. To-morrow, perhaps, some warriors may go forth. You said you had a secret that you would not tell; but let me hear it; for much do I love you, for the affection which you bear my brother; and much it pains my heart to think that yours must bleed without a sympathising friend, to soothe your pain. Ah! how blind I have been! a thought has opened now my eyes. Come hither; let me whisper to your ear.”

The gentle Ina bent over her page’s head. A deep blush suffused the boy’s cheeks; his eyes filled with tears.

“Ah! it is so? Let me weep with you,” she cried. “But, be of good hope, all may yet be well. Such love as yours cannot go unrequited.”

Old Kahija was certain to intrude when she was least wanted; and at that instant she made her appearance, hobbling in, for she was somewhat unwieldy in her gait. Her cheeks almost burst with impatience to communicate some important information.

“Here’s news for you, young ladies, from the camp,” she exclaimed. “Ah, Zara, my pretty maid, you’ll not have to sigh much longer, I am thinking, for the young Alp. Now, girls, what would you give to have the information? Your best earrings, I warrant; but I am not cruel, and will keep you no longer in suspense,” she added, as eager to communicate the news, as the fair inmates of the harem were to hear it. “Know then, my pretty Zara, that our noble chief, your grandfather, has given his sanction for your marriage with young Alp Beg, and in a short time, he will be here to bear you from us.”

“Speak you the words of truth, Kahija?” exclaimed Zara, blushing, but looking perfectly happy, as she threw herself upon Ina’s neck. “Oh, say when he will come?”

“He has sent some one to deliver a message to you; therefore wrap your features closely in a veil, and go out to the gate of the anderoon. And that reminds me there is some one to see you, Conrin, from your master.”

“Ah!” exclaimed the page, hastening to the door. “What joy to hear of him.”

“A messenger from my brother!” cried Ina. “I too, must learn what news he brings.”

At the gates of the anderoon, Conrin found Javis waiting his coming.

“I bring news from our master, for his sister,” said the squire. “In a few days he will be here, and then I must quit his service, if I can return to Russia. I have fulfilled my oath, I have obeyed your wish; no mortal, with a spirit that could feel, would do more.”

“Javis, I owe you much;” exclaimed the page. “I would repay you with my life; but the only reward you prize, alas! I cannot give.”

“I ask for no reward,” answered Javis; “the only one I prize, alas! I cannot gain; and after that, death will be the most welcome. But I would see my people first, and breathe my spirit out amongst them. I have done your bidding. I vowed to do what you wished, nor stipulated for reward. I rescued the young chief from the power of the Russians; I have striven to wash away my thought of crime almost perpetrated; I saw him safely landed on his native shores; I have seen him take his place among his people, as a chieftain of Circassia: I even learned to love him for himself, but more I cannot do. I could not bear to see him again at your side; I must go even from you.”

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Ina and Zara.

“Say, when will my brother come?” exclaimed Ina. “Oh, ’twill be joy to see him.”

“In three days hence, if the Russians move not from their encampments,” answered Javis.

“Bring you any message for me?” said Zara, timidly addressing a young warrior, who respectfully saluted her at her approach.

“Yes, lady, I bear a message from my friend, the gallant Alp Beg. Before two days have passed, and ere the shade of yonder lofty tree has reached the stream which flows a short distance from its base, he will be here.”

“You bring me grateful news, indeed. Oh, many thanks!” returned Zara. “Say, is your friend well?”

“Yes, lady, he is well; and bears himself bravely against the foe,” answered the messenger.

“Come, come, maidens,” exclaimed Kahija, bustling up. “It is very incorrect to stop chattering longer than is necessary at the gate of the anderoon. If you have received your messages, come into the house, and let the young men go their way.”

Having no further excuse for remaining, the fair girls were obliged to do as desired, though they would fain have heard more of those so dear to them.

Volume Three—Chapter Seven.We must return again to take a glance at the patriot camp on the Ubin. Except the slight skirmishes already described, nothing of importance had been effected, and as the winter was now fast approaching, the Russians appeared to contemplate no further movement.A council of war was one day held in a grove, away from the din and bustle of the camp, at which were present, among many of the Princes and nobles of Circassia; Arslan Gherrei, his son and the Hadji, when shots were heard announcing the arrival of some other chief, and presently a band of wild horsemen were seen approaching, dressed in skins and furs, of some of the mountain Tartar tribes.At their head, rode the Khan Khoros Kaloret; who, after dismounting, singly approached the council ring. The chiefs stood up as he stepped boldly amongst them. His looks were fierce and angry, as his glance passed round on the assembled nobles, who could ill brook his haughty mien. At length, one of the most ancient addressed him—“Why come you here, Khan, to interrupt our conference? Have you any tidings of importance to communicate?”“Why come I here?” echoed the Khan, furiously. “Think you, I come for idle sport? No, I come to claim my brother’s blood at your hands. Say, where he is, or I may not continue to be a friend to any here. Say, where is my brother?”“We know not of your brother, Khan; we have spoken our answer.”“Does my brother, live? I ask you,” said the Khan.“We know not of your brother,” answered the former speaker.“To you then, Uzden Arslan Gherrei, I appeal,” said the Khan. “I sent him to you, to bring back your daughter as my bride; and since he left your house, none of my clansmen know aught of him. At your hands, I require him.”“Your brother, Khan, quitted my house free to go where he willed. I cannot tell you of him more,” answered the chieftain—The Khan glanced fiercely around him for a few seconds, without speaking; during which, the members of the council moved to a farther distance, and resumed their seats; leaving the enraged Khan, standing alone; a customary ana sufficient signal, that his presence was not required. The Khan stood irresolute for a few minutes; then, against all rules of established ceremony, again approached them.“Chieftain,” he cried, addressing Arslan Gherrei; “again, I ask you, where is my brother? If dead, say who slew him, that I may know my enemy; or, if he fell before the foe, why brought you not away his corpse, and arms?”“Khan,” answered the chief; “is it not enough to say, that I cannot tell you of your brother? then ask me no more.”Saying which, the whole body returned to their former position, leaving the Khan alone. He again followed them, when the council slowly rising, the aged chief, who had before spoken, again addressed him:“Twice have we warned you, Khan, not to question us of your brother. Now learn his fate; he died a traitor’s death—fighting in our foemen’s ranks, he fell, attempting treachery. He lies now amongst a heap of cursed Urus; his name disgraced and blotted from our memories. Now go, and ask no more of him. His name is foul.”“Chieftain, whoever says my brother died a traitor’s death, lies black as Eblis. Back in his mouth, I’ll throw the calumny,” cried the Khan. “My brother was ever a foe to Russia, and deeply will I avenge his slandered honour.”At these words, the chiefs half drew their swords; but, recollecting that he stood one among many, and having compassion upon him for his grief, and his brother’s crime and death, they returned them to their scabbards, and spoke not.“Uzden Arslan Gherrei, from henceforth know me as your deadly foe,” cried the Khan; “whatever death my brother died, ’twas you that caused it, and I will have revenge, if I die to gain it.”Uttering which, with a fierce tone and aspect, he strode from the spot, mounting his war horse, rode furiously from the camp, followed by the troop of his wild clansmen, without waiting to salute any of the chiefs he met.We must leave the Khan to pursue his headlong course, while we follow the movements of the Baron Galetzoff, and the small army under his command. After marching from Anapa, they proceeded to the newly erected fort, we have described on the south side of the Kouban, which was built on slightly elevated ground, at no great distance; though beyond gun shot of the range of mountains, which girt the territories to which the tribes of the Attèghèi are now confined. On the other side extended a broad plain, formed of the marshes of the Kouban, from which the heats of summer draw forth the noxious miasma, so prejudicial to the health of the soldiers; but the flat marshy nature of the country, added to the security of the position, lessens the chance of a surprise, and gives full scope for the deadly fire of grape and rockets.The fort had been commenced under the protection of a large force; and the Baron was now employed in forming fresh entrenchments, and taking every means to strengthen his position; waiting in hopes of some opportunity occurring to revenge himself for the losses he had sustained. No houses had as yet been built; the troops living in wretched huts hastily constructed of mud and boughs, and the officers in their tents.Towards the close of the day, the Baron was seated in his tent, when his aide-de-camp announced to him that one of the chiefs of the enemy, with a flag of truce, desired an audience immediately.“Let him be admitted,” said the General. “We may at length have awed some of these barbarians into subjection.”The Baron rose to receive his guest as the officer returned, ushering in a tall ferocious looking warrior, his heavy sword clashing against his armour, as with a fearless step he entered the tent. The General started when he saw him; for he thought of the young Khan to whose death he had been instrumental, and of his squire whom he had unjustly shot, as gazing earnestly at the stranger, he almost fancied the dead stood before him. For a few moments neither spoke, as the civilised European commander confronted the wild warrior of the mountains, who returned his glance with a haughty and seemingly contemptuous stare. At length, banishing his superstitious fears, he spoke.“Who are you, chief, that thus venture into the camp of the Russians?”“I am Kaloret Khan,” answered the chief in a fierce tone.At the sound of that name the Baron started, laying his hand upon his sword to prepare himself for the expected attack.“Fear not,” said the Khan in a contemptuous tone, “I come not to do you harm. Did I wish to kill you, I could have done so ere this. See!” he added, pointing to the opening of the tent, before which one of his wild clansmen was holding his war horse. “I could have struck you dead, and mounted my fleet steed, leaping your paltry entrenchments, before one of your slow-moving soldiers could have stopped me. No, Russian, I come not to harm you.”“For what purpose do you come here? What ask you?” said the General.“I come,” answered the Khan, frowning darkly, and clenching his gauntleted hand, “I come to seek revenge.”“A goodly feeling, and one that should be encouraged by all brave men,” answered the Baron. “And on whom do you seek it?”“On those who have injured me. On a chieftain, Arslan Gherrei, who refused to let his daughter be my wife; and shall I tamely brook such an insult? I would bear the girl away, in spite of her refusal; I would revenge myself upon him for my brother’s death; who is said to have come to ask your aid to carry off the chieftain’s daughter, when he died by the hand of Selem, his newly found son.”“You have heard truly, Khan,” answered the General. “Say, how can I assist you in your wishes, and I will gladly hold the hand of friendship forth to you.”“I would bring hither the daughter of the chieftain, for I must quit my mountain home, my flocks and herds, and come to join you with my followers.”“You speak wisely, Khan,” said the Baron. “You shall be received with open arms; but you must also bring this son of Arslan Gherrei, and his youthful page, and also a Russian officer, who lately escaped when under sentence of death. I will, in return, promise you lands, flocks, and herds to supply those you have left.”“You speak of Selem Gherrei, Russian,” exclaimed the Khan. “It were easier far to entrap the savage boar, and bring him willingly along, than to bring alive before you any of the chiefs of the Attèghèi. But I will try; and, if I fail, it shall not be for want of hatred and revenge to prompt me.”“Bring him alive, if possible; if not, bring me his corpse, and you will be welcome. There are others I would secure—his squire, and a slow, heavy slave, who is probably about his person.”“I have already said I will do my best to please you,” said the Khan haughtily, “and now I must depart.”“Farewell, until you return with your prisoners,” rejoined the Russian.“Chieftain of Russia,” responded the Khan, “you will see me soon again. I tarry not in my revenge.”Saying which Khoros Kaloret strode from the tent with the same haughty air with which he had entered, and, mounting his horse, galloped off.“There goes a traitor,” said the Baron, following him with his eye as he rode off; “and if there were a few more like him, we might soon rightly call the fair lands of Circassia our own. I think I can trust that barbarian, with revenge for his motive of action; and if he brings Arslan Gherrei’s daughter, I shall have a hold upon him he cannot easily break through.”He then summoned Count Erintoff to his presence.“Ah! Colonel,” he said, as the Count entered, “I have at length a hope of punishing those who have hitherto escaped my vengeance.”“I am rejoiced to hear it, General,” said the Count. “We owe it as a duty to our country to punish those vile deserters, not to mention the indulgence of a little private revenge. But how is it that you hope to succeed?”“Why it appears that the fierce Khan, Khoros Khaloret, has taken umbrage that the Chief Arslan Gherrei refuses him his daughter—the same of whom we heard so much, and who so narrowly escaped us at the fords of the Mezi, when the Khan’s brother led you into that desperate scrape. He now wishes to run off with the lady, and take refuge with us: so I have made it a condition of his being; well received, that he brings off those deserters, Ivan Galetzoff, his page, Lieutenant Stanisloff, and others. I fear he may not succeed in capturing Ivan Galetzoff, who, now I hear, bears the name of Selem Gherrei; indeed, I have no doubt he is the son of Arslan Gherrei, as I captured the boy myself, and well remember that was the name of the chief whose village I attacked and burned. I carried off his wife with this boy, who I knew not was her own son, little thinking what a viper I was cherishing. I intended him to prove a bitter enemy to this rebellious country, but I find this woman counteracted all my intentions, by instilling into his bosom an absurd love of country and liberty. I would give worlds to get him into my power; and though the Khan may not succeed in entrapping him, he may secure his page, whom he brought with him from Russia, and to whom it seems he is much attached. I propose to work upon the boy, either by kindness or threats of his life, to induce him to assist in some plot to betray his master. At all events I have hopes that this young Gherrei, when he finds we have possession of his sister and page, will attempt to rescue them. We will be on the watch to ensure his capture, and I will promise a reward to whoever makes him a prisoner. What say you, Count, to my plans?”“It is an excellent plot, and cannot fail,” said his worthy officer; “but we must also endeavour to re-capture Lieutenant Stanisloff. I have a little private grudge against him, which I would fain indulge.”“Oh! there is but little chance of missing him,” answered his superior; “he will probably accompany Selem Gherrei into the field, and fall into the same toil as his friend. You, Colonel, shall have the lady as your share.”“I cannot refuse so generous an offer,” said the Count. “I suppose she must be beautiful, or she would not have inflamed the heart of the savage Khan. I require some fair mistress to drive the Gipsy Azila out of my head; for I could never gain any further trace of her after it was discovered that she was implicated in that miserable conspiracy.”“A great disappointment, Colonel; but I dare say this wild mountain beauty will recompense you for her loss,” said the Baron.“Perchance she may,” answered the Count, “for it is said these Circassian beauties may vie with the most lovely in the world. But we must be cautious. If we deprive the fiery Khan of the lady, he may give us some trouble. He does not appear a person who would quietly submit to have his mistress taken from him, after the risk and danger he must undergo to win her.”“That matters little,” answered the Baron; “he will give us but slight trouble, for we must put him out of the way on the first convenient opportunity. I never contemplated allowing him to remain alive. I love not these intractable mountaineers; and can never trust them. We can let him fall into the hands of his countrymen, and they will take good care to ease us of any further thought concerning him.”“A very good idea, General,” answered the Count. “I agree with you that these barbarians are equally troublesome whether as friends or enemies; and I confess I did not like the scowl he cast on me and all around, as he passed, bearing himself as proudly as if he were some conqueror riding amidst his slaves.”“They are a detested race,” exclaimed the General, grinning through his thick-mustachioed lips; “but we will soon humble their pride, and drag them in chains to St. Petersburg, where they shall be exhibited as a specimen of the knights of old and we may then build our château, and lay out our parks amidst these green hills and fertile valleys, without the fear of being molested.”“You are facetious, General, at the expense of the savages,” said the Count. “But, according to my taste, this is rather too far from the capital to build a country house. I should like, however, to transfer a few of their fair beauties from these wilds to people my domain near Moscow; and as for the men who have given us so much trouble, I would shoot them all as traitors, or send them to work in the mines of Siberia. They are too fierce to be tamed; for, like hyaenas, they would never be at rest, and would spring upon us when we least expected it. But, badinage aside, what do you, Baron, intend to do with the prisoners the Khan is to bring us? They deserve severe punishment.”“Shoot them as flagrant deserters taken in arms against the Emperor,” answered the Baron, clenching his hand, and frowning darkly. “It is too mild a punishment for them.”“This page of Ivan Galetzoff, or Selem Gherrei, or whatever name he now goes by, deserves punishment richly for that affair of the Mezi,” said the Count. “I saw him fighting as furiously as the oldest hands among them. The fiery young villain shot the Khan’s brother and one of our own Cossacks, who was about to cut down his master. I fear we shall not succeed in getting much service out of him.”“Then he must die. We must make an example of all deserters,” said the General, “or we shall find our ranks completely empty before long. What with the desertion of these rascally slaves we have sent there as soldiers, these cursed fevers which sweep off so many, and the atrocious daring of these barbarous mountaineers, we have lost more men already than we can spare. Had I my own way, I would overwhelm these Circassians at one fell swoop, and exterminate them from the face of the earth.”“I agree with you, General, this is the only way to treat them,” answered the Count.

We must return again to take a glance at the patriot camp on the Ubin. Except the slight skirmishes already described, nothing of importance had been effected, and as the winter was now fast approaching, the Russians appeared to contemplate no further movement.

A council of war was one day held in a grove, away from the din and bustle of the camp, at which were present, among many of the Princes and nobles of Circassia; Arslan Gherrei, his son and the Hadji, when shots were heard announcing the arrival of some other chief, and presently a band of wild horsemen were seen approaching, dressed in skins and furs, of some of the mountain Tartar tribes.

At their head, rode the Khan Khoros Kaloret; who, after dismounting, singly approached the council ring. The chiefs stood up as he stepped boldly amongst them. His looks were fierce and angry, as his glance passed round on the assembled nobles, who could ill brook his haughty mien. At length, one of the most ancient addressed him—

“Why come you here, Khan, to interrupt our conference? Have you any tidings of importance to communicate?”

“Why come I here?” echoed the Khan, furiously. “Think you, I come for idle sport? No, I come to claim my brother’s blood at your hands. Say, where he is, or I may not continue to be a friend to any here. Say, where is my brother?”

“We know not of your brother, Khan; we have spoken our answer.”

“Does my brother, live? I ask you,” said the Khan.

“We know not of your brother,” answered the former speaker.

“To you then, Uzden Arslan Gherrei, I appeal,” said the Khan. “I sent him to you, to bring back your daughter as my bride; and since he left your house, none of my clansmen know aught of him. At your hands, I require him.”

“Your brother, Khan, quitted my house free to go where he willed. I cannot tell you of him more,” answered the chieftain—

The Khan glanced fiercely around him for a few seconds, without speaking; during which, the members of the council moved to a farther distance, and resumed their seats; leaving the enraged Khan, standing alone; a customary ana sufficient signal, that his presence was not required. The Khan stood irresolute for a few minutes; then, against all rules of established ceremony, again approached them.

“Chieftain,” he cried, addressing Arslan Gherrei; “again, I ask you, where is my brother? If dead, say who slew him, that I may know my enemy; or, if he fell before the foe, why brought you not away his corpse, and arms?”

“Khan,” answered the chief; “is it not enough to say, that I cannot tell you of your brother? then ask me no more.”

Saying which, the whole body returned to their former position, leaving the Khan alone. He again followed them, when the council slowly rising, the aged chief, who had before spoken, again addressed him:

“Twice have we warned you, Khan, not to question us of your brother. Now learn his fate; he died a traitor’s death—fighting in our foemen’s ranks, he fell, attempting treachery. He lies now amongst a heap of cursed Urus; his name disgraced and blotted from our memories. Now go, and ask no more of him. His name is foul.”

“Chieftain, whoever says my brother died a traitor’s death, lies black as Eblis. Back in his mouth, I’ll throw the calumny,” cried the Khan. “My brother was ever a foe to Russia, and deeply will I avenge his slandered honour.”

At these words, the chiefs half drew their swords; but, recollecting that he stood one among many, and having compassion upon him for his grief, and his brother’s crime and death, they returned them to their scabbards, and spoke not.

“Uzden Arslan Gherrei, from henceforth know me as your deadly foe,” cried the Khan; “whatever death my brother died, ’twas you that caused it, and I will have revenge, if I die to gain it.”

Uttering which, with a fierce tone and aspect, he strode from the spot, mounting his war horse, rode furiously from the camp, followed by the troop of his wild clansmen, without waiting to salute any of the chiefs he met.

We must leave the Khan to pursue his headlong course, while we follow the movements of the Baron Galetzoff, and the small army under his command. After marching from Anapa, they proceeded to the newly erected fort, we have described on the south side of the Kouban, which was built on slightly elevated ground, at no great distance; though beyond gun shot of the range of mountains, which girt the territories to which the tribes of the Attèghèi are now confined. On the other side extended a broad plain, formed of the marshes of the Kouban, from which the heats of summer draw forth the noxious miasma, so prejudicial to the health of the soldiers; but the flat marshy nature of the country, added to the security of the position, lessens the chance of a surprise, and gives full scope for the deadly fire of grape and rockets.

The fort had been commenced under the protection of a large force; and the Baron was now employed in forming fresh entrenchments, and taking every means to strengthen his position; waiting in hopes of some opportunity occurring to revenge himself for the losses he had sustained. No houses had as yet been built; the troops living in wretched huts hastily constructed of mud and boughs, and the officers in their tents.

Towards the close of the day, the Baron was seated in his tent, when his aide-de-camp announced to him that one of the chiefs of the enemy, with a flag of truce, desired an audience immediately.

“Let him be admitted,” said the General. “We may at length have awed some of these barbarians into subjection.”

The Baron rose to receive his guest as the officer returned, ushering in a tall ferocious looking warrior, his heavy sword clashing against his armour, as with a fearless step he entered the tent. The General started when he saw him; for he thought of the young Khan to whose death he had been instrumental, and of his squire whom he had unjustly shot, as gazing earnestly at the stranger, he almost fancied the dead stood before him. For a few moments neither spoke, as the civilised European commander confronted the wild warrior of the mountains, who returned his glance with a haughty and seemingly contemptuous stare. At length, banishing his superstitious fears, he spoke.

“Who are you, chief, that thus venture into the camp of the Russians?”

“I am Kaloret Khan,” answered the chief in a fierce tone.

At the sound of that name the Baron started, laying his hand upon his sword to prepare himself for the expected attack.

“Fear not,” said the Khan in a contemptuous tone, “I come not to do you harm. Did I wish to kill you, I could have done so ere this. See!” he added, pointing to the opening of the tent, before which one of his wild clansmen was holding his war horse. “I could have struck you dead, and mounted my fleet steed, leaping your paltry entrenchments, before one of your slow-moving soldiers could have stopped me. No, Russian, I come not to harm you.”

“For what purpose do you come here? What ask you?” said the General.

“I come,” answered the Khan, frowning darkly, and clenching his gauntleted hand, “I come to seek revenge.”

“A goodly feeling, and one that should be encouraged by all brave men,” answered the Baron. “And on whom do you seek it?”

“On those who have injured me. On a chieftain, Arslan Gherrei, who refused to let his daughter be my wife; and shall I tamely brook such an insult? I would bear the girl away, in spite of her refusal; I would revenge myself upon him for my brother’s death; who is said to have come to ask your aid to carry off the chieftain’s daughter, when he died by the hand of Selem, his newly found son.”

“You have heard truly, Khan,” answered the General. “Say, how can I assist you in your wishes, and I will gladly hold the hand of friendship forth to you.”

“I would bring hither the daughter of the chieftain, for I must quit my mountain home, my flocks and herds, and come to join you with my followers.”

“You speak wisely, Khan,” said the Baron. “You shall be received with open arms; but you must also bring this son of Arslan Gherrei, and his youthful page, and also a Russian officer, who lately escaped when under sentence of death. I will, in return, promise you lands, flocks, and herds to supply those you have left.”

“You speak of Selem Gherrei, Russian,” exclaimed the Khan. “It were easier far to entrap the savage boar, and bring him willingly along, than to bring alive before you any of the chiefs of the Attèghèi. But I will try; and, if I fail, it shall not be for want of hatred and revenge to prompt me.”

“Bring him alive, if possible; if not, bring me his corpse, and you will be welcome. There are others I would secure—his squire, and a slow, heavy slave, who is probably about his person.”

“I have already said I will do my best to please you,” said the Khan haughtily, “and now I must depart.”

“Farewell, until you return with your prisoners,” rejoined the Russian.

“Chieftain of Russia,” responded the Khan, “you will see me soon again. I tarry not in my revenge.”

Saying which Khoros Kaloret strode from the tent with the same haughty air with which he had entered, and, mounting his horse, galloped off.

“There goes a traitor,” said the Baron, following him with his eye as he rode off; “and if there were a few more like him, we might soon rightly call the fair lands of Circassia our own. I think I can trust that barbarian, with revenge for his motive of action; and if he brings Arslan Gherrei’s daughter, I shall have a hold upon him he cannot easily break through.”

He then summoned Count Erintoff to his presence.

“Ah! Colonel,” he said, as the Count entered, “I have at length a hope of punishing those who have hitherto escaped my vengeance.”

“I am rejoiced to hear it, General,” said the Count. “We owe it as a duty to our country to punish those vile deserters, not to mention the indulgence of a little private revenge. But how is it that you hope to succeed?”

“Why it appears that the fierce Khan, Khoros Khaloret, has taken umbrage that the Chief Arslan Gherrei refuses him his daughter—the same of whom we heard so much, and who so narrowly escaped us at the fords of the Mezi, when the Khan’s brother led you into that desperate scrape. He now wishes to run off with the lady, and take refuge with us: so I have made it a condition of his being; well received, that he brings off those deserters, Ivan Galetzoff, his page, Lieutenant Stanisloff, and others. I fear he may not succeed in capturing Ivan Galetzoff, who, now I hear, bears the name of Selem Gherrei; indeed, I have no doubt he is the son of Arslan Gherrei, as I captured the boy myself, and well remember that was the name of the chief whose village I attacked and burned. I carried off his wife with this boy, who I knew not was her own son, little thinking what a viper I was cherishing. I intended him to prove a bitter enemy to this rebellious country, but I find this woman counteracted all my intentions, by instilling into his bosom an absurd love of country and liberty. I would give worlds to get him into my power; and though the Khan may not succeed in entrapping him, he may secure his page, whom he brought with him from Russia, and to whom it seems he is much attached. I propose to work upon the boy, either by kindness or threats of his life, to induce him to assist in some plot to betray his master. At all events I have hopes that this young Gherrei, when he finds we have possession of his sister and page, will attempt to rescue them. We will be on the watch to ensure his capture, and I will promise a reward to whoever makes him a prisoner. What say you, Count, to my plans?”

“It is an excellent plot, and cannot fail,” said his worthy officer; “but we must also endeavour to re-capture Lieutenant Stanisloff. I have a little private grudge against him, which I would fain indulge.”

“Oh! there is but little chance of missing him,” answered his superior; “he will probably accompany Selem Gherrei into the field, and fall into the same toil as his friend. You, Colonel, shall have the lady as your share.”

“I cannot refuse so generous an offer,” said the Count. “I suppose she must be beautiful, or she would not have inflamed the heart of the savage Khan. I require some fair mistress to drive the Gipsy Azila out of my head; for I could never gain any further trace of her after it was discovered that she was implicated in that miserable conspiracy.”

“A great disappointment, Colonel; but I dare say this wild mountain beauty will recompense you for her loss,” said the Baron.

“Perchance she may,” answered the Count, “for it is said these Circassian beauties may vie with the most lovely in the world. But we must be cautious. If we deprive the fiery Khan of the lady, he may give us some trouble. He does not appear a person who would quietly submit to have his mistress taken from him, after the risk and danger he must undergo to win her.”

“That matters little,” answered the Baron; “he will give us but slight trouble, for we must put him out of the way on the first convenient opportunity. I never contemplated allowing him to remain alive. I love not these intractable mountaineers; and can never trust them. We can let him fall into the hands of his countrymen, and they will take good care to ease us of any further thought concerning him.”

“A very good idea, General,” answered the Count. “I agree with you that these barbarians are equally troublesome whether as friends or enemies; and I confess I did not like the scowl he cast on me and all around, as he passed, bearing himself as proudly as if he were some conqueror riding amidst his slaves.”

“They are a detested race,” exclaimed the General, grinning through his thick-mustachioed lips; “but we will soon humble their pride, and drag them in chains to St. Petersburg, where they shall be exhibited as a specimen of the knights of old and we may then build our château, and lay out our parks amidst these green hills and fertile valleys, without the fear of being molested.”

“You are facetious, General, at the expense of the savages,” said the Count. “But, according to my taste, this is rather too far from the capital to build a country house. I should like, however, to transfer a few of their fair beauties from these wilds to people my domain near Moscow; and as for the men who have given us so much trouble, I would shoot them all as traitors, or send them to work in the mines of Siberia. They are too fierce to be tamed; for, like hyaenas, they would never be at rest, and would spring upon us when we least expected it. But, badinage aside, what do you, Baron, intend to do with the prisoners the Khan is to bring us? They deserve severe punishment.”

“Shoot them as flagrant deserters taken in arms against the Emperor,” answered the Baron, clenching his hand, and frowning darkly. “It is too mild a punishment for them.”

“This page of Ivan Galetzoff, or Selem Gherrei, or whatever name he now goes by, deserves punishment richly for that affair of the Mezi,” said the Count. “I saw him fighting as furiously as the oldest hands among them. The fiery young villain shot the Khan’s brother and one of our own Cossacks, who was about to cut down his master. I fear we shall not succeed in getting much service out of him.”

“Then he must die. We must make an example of all deserters,” said the General, “or we shall find our ranks completely empty before long. What with the desertion of these rascally slaves we have sent there as soldiers, these cursed fevers which sweep off so many, and the atrocious daring of these barbarous mountaineers, we have lost more men already than we can spare. Had I my own way, I would overwhelm these Circassians at one fell swoop, and exterminate them from the face of the earth.”

“I agree with you, General, this is the only way to treat them,” answered the Count.

Volume Three—Chapter Eight.With light and bounding heart, young Alp urged on his steed towards the smiling valley of Abran Bashi, as from the summit of the last mountain he espied amid the trees the habitation of his young and beloved Zara. He wore a Persian suit of the finest chain armour, a gift from his uncle, Achmet Beg, over which was thrown a cloak of blue cloth, trimmed with gold. A belt of Turkish leather, richly embroidered in gold, (the prized gift of his mistress, worked by her own fair hand), bound his waist, holding his jewelled dagger; and at his side hung a well tempered Damascus blade. Boots also of Turkish leather, and worked by the same loved one, covered his feet. On his head, instead of the warlike helmet, he wore a cap of cloth, trimmed with a narrow border of dark fur, overshadowed by a plume of white feathers. He looked indeed a noble bridegroom, worthy of the love of Circassia’s lovely daughters, the pride of his gallant old father.By his side rode his tried and sworn friend, the son of the brave and sturdy chief, Ali Beg, his companion in many a wild and daring adventure, when they were boys together; and lately, in the sterner and sanguinary scenes of warfare. He too was in his most gallant array, his arms furbished to their utmost polish, his coat and steel almost concealed by a gay-coloured vest, and by the cloak which hung from his shoulders. He had been selected by his friend for the honourable and important post of bridesman, to escort the bride to the house of her destined lord.In the meantime, young Zara was counting the hours, as they seemed to crawl by, ere he came; and in spite of all old Kahija’s notions of propriety, stole often and furtively to the wicket of the enclosure surrounding the anderoon, to throw many a searching glance up the valley to the summit of the hill, over which she knew her knight must pass. Then she would run back again, and pretend to be busily engaged in her work, her ear anxiously intent to catch the sounds of his horse’s hoofs, as her eye was to search for his graceful figure. Then she would persuade herself and her friend that she had a head-ache, and that a little more fresh air would wonderfully benefit her; and she would seize Ina’s arm, and hurry off. Her friend fully comprehended the reasons of her constant visits to the gate.“Why comes he not, Ina?” at length she said. “What think you could have delayed him on the road? He said he would come ere the shadows of yonder tree had reached the waters of the rivulet, and see it already touches the edge of the bank. Oh, Allah! can any harm have befallen him? I never think of those dreadful Urus without shuddering, and Alp is always on some hazardous expedition against them; their very name frightens me.”“Nay,” said Ina, “let not your thoughts dwell on such fears. See the shadow has not yet reached the water, and ere it does, perhaps Alp will be here.”“Tell me, Ina, how is it that some women of our country can be so courageous as to rush into battle, fearing not the Urus, and bear themselves as bravely as the men? For my part, I tremble at the report only of a rifle, and could not fire a pistol to defend my life,” said Zara.“Because, dearest,” answered her friend, “you have been removed from the scenes of havoc and bloodshed, which steel their hearts from all feelings of compassion for our foes, and which nerve their arms, and inspire them with courage to avenge their wrongs.”“It is dreadful to think of it,” exclaimed Zara, shuddering. “I would rather die at once than look on blood. The foe might kill me, but I could not fight.”“Oh, let us pray, Allah, that the dread foe may never come near this valley, and then you need have no cause to fear them,” answered her friend.“I almost wish that Alp was not so great a warrior; but yet I love to hear of his brave deeds. They say he will be equal to his father, and he is one of the bravest heroes of Attèghèi. Ina, I will tell you a secret. I have loved Alp for a very long time—ever since I first saw him—when he once came home, bringing two Russian prisoners. Hearing every body praise so much, I ventured to look at him, and then I saw what a gallant and noble youth he was. Then he danced with me at the marriage of one of my grandfather’s followers. Oh, how my heart leaped as he pressed my hand, and led me out on the green. I did not care for all old Kahija’s frowns. And then the soft and sweet things he said to me! I never heard words like them, and when I looked at him again, I thought him one of the handsomest of all the youths of the Attèghèi—not in the least like his father, as people said he was. I was always happy when he came, and used to play so many tricks to avoid old Kahija, who makes me so obedient at other times, though I never ventured away so far from the house as you do. Then, when he told me how much he loved me, and that he would die, or win me, I was so happy! I did not think he would have to die.”“Yes, dear Zara, Alp is indeed a noble youth, well worthy a lady’s love,” answered Ina.“Ah!” said Zara, clasping her friend’s arm tighter, “see, Ina, see, he comes! I see his glittering armour. I see his white plume. Ah, he hastens onward—he looks this way, to catch a glimpse of me. Now he looks at the shadow of the tall tree, to see if he have kept his promised time. See the shadow scarcely yet touches the water! He flies faster than the sun. He will be here in a few minutes. Oh, Ina, how my heart beats! I must run away—I must hide. He will think I have been looking for him. I ought not to stay here. What will Kahija say?”Whatever Zara ought to have done, she showed not the slightest inclination to move, but continued waiting the approach of Alp, who certainly proved himself to be no dilatory lover, by the rate he galloped on. So fast indeed did he approach, that she had not time to retire if she would, before, leaping from his horse, he clasped her in his arms, spite of her blushes, and the presence of Ina, whom he seemed to have quite overlooked. He, however, now made his courtesies to her in proper form.“See, Zara,” he said, “I sent word I would come ere the shadow of yon tall tree had reached the stream, and it but now touches the wet grass on its borders. I come, sweet one;” and he whispered a few magic words in her ear which made the roses glow more brightly in her cheeks.“My father gives me but a few days ere he will call me back to the camp, so that we have but a short time. He will arrange all things with your grandfather, and to-morrow my home will await your coming.”We will not dwell any longer on the interview of the lovers; nor need we describe their words of tender endearment; for love, we believe, to be much the same in all parts of the globe, influencing in the same way the thoughts and feelings of all those, whose young hearts have not been blighted and seared by the world, which too soon works a woeful change in all that is tender, pure, and lovely. These mountain lovers might not perhaps have used the courtly phrases of the cities of Frangistan; but they spoke a language which both perfectly understood, and, looking into each other’s eyes, they found words unnecessary.They did not even perceive that Ina had long left them; and were somewhat startled in finding old Kahija standing in her place, after an interval whose duration they had not calculated. Her appearance drove many things, they were about to communicate to each other, out of their heads; and so pertinaciously did the nurse keep her ground, that Alp, who had never fled before the Russian fire, was now obliged to beat a most unwilling retreat.From far and near came guests to grace the bridal festival of the fair young Zara and the gallant Alp. From the mountain villages, and neighbouring dells, all assembled whom war had not called from their homes, and all ranks and classes were equally welcomed by the venerable and hospitable old chief. Parties of youths and maidens came in their gayest attire, streaming over the hills and down the valleys; their embroidered cloaks fluttering in the breeze, and glittering with silver fringe, singing, as they wended their way, songs in praise of the young couple. Here some noble gallant might be seen on his gaily caparisoned charger, scouring along the valley to join the throng; others came in attendance on their fair partners for the coming dance; their gallantry more sincere, and scarcely less refined than in the civilised countries of Europe.The vests of the maidens were ornamented in front with silver studs, and closed by clasps of the same metal; while a jewelled broach confined the bands which bound their slender waists. White veils or scarfs, nearly reaching the ground, fell from amid their braided tresses, confined at the ends by a silver cord. They wore muslin trousers, fastened round their ankles; their petticoats reaching to the knee, and embroidered slippers encased their small feet. The lower ranks were dressed in less elegant attire, though of much the same fashion; but all had done their utmost to deck their persons to the best advantage, to add to the brilliancy of the scene.The feast was held in the grove close to the habitation of the Prince, where arbours had been erected for the fairer portion of the guests. In the principal one Zara, with Ina and old Kahija, were stationed to receive them. Numerous bands of slaves were in attendance, bearing tables to the green glade, from which, through an opening in the trees, was seen the lower part of the valley; and here the old chief stood with Alp and his friends, to receive the male guests as they quickly assembled. The tables were spread in long rows on the grassy lawn; the chiefs, and those of higher rank, being seated round their venerable host, while those not of noble birth and the freemen, were placed at the other end.In the neighbouring thicket were numerous fires, at each of which was suspended a nobly charged spit, or a kettle tended by female slaves busily employed in preparing viands for the large party assembled. At a distance stood in eager and hungry expectation, the serfs and those not of rank sufficiently high to enjoy the privilege of sitting at table; but to whom the remainder of the banquet was to be served when the nobles had finished. There were minstrels also to chaunt forth the praise of the bridegroom and his fair Zara, one taking up the strain from the other, and each endeavouring to outdo the first in praise and delicacy of compliment.In the meantime, Zara and her fair companions were entertained in the arbours, whence their light ringing laughter reached the spot where the nobles were seated. Though many of the party where Mahometans, the cup of sparkling wine often passed round to the sound of music; but they remained not long seated, for eager were the youths to join the dance, when they saw the troops of lovely maidens tripping gaily along the verdant glade, entwining round their graceful forms wreaths of bright flowers. The youths spiling quickly from the tables in pursuit of their fair partners; and vain were their laughing efforts to escape from the quick footed, active mountaineers, who soon overtook them, leading them back no unwilling prisoners to the smoothest and most level spot for dancing.Then did the musicians strike up their gayest airs; the dancers moving first to slow and measured time, in circles alternately of youths and maids, now lifting their arms in graceful undulations aloft and now joining their hands in the centre. Then, as the music quickened, pursuing each other round and round; the maids wreathing their flowers and circling the heads of the youth as they knelt at their feet. Then springing up, they pursued their giddy course.Alp led forth his bride elect, the last time he could thus appear with her in public; Thaddeus, following his example with Ina; and many a closely veiled and hooded matron of high rank conducted to the dance their daughters to receive the hands of partners. Gracefully they moved through the forest glades. The minstrels exerted their talents to the utmost, and were joined, at times, by the sweet voices of the fair dancers; while, occasionally, laughter resounded on all sides. The elders and matrons, seated on divans and carpets in the arbours or beneath the shade of the trees, looked on with approbation, applauding the graceful movements and activity of their children.The time was now approaching when Zara must leave the gay scene to be attired in her thick veil in preparation for her journey, old Ivahija being in waiting to carry her off to the house.All present seemed full of happiness, except the young page, Conrin. The joyousness of the scene grated on his feelings; and forsaking the throng, he sought to calm his troubled thoughts at a distance in solitude and quiet. He earnestly longed to see his master again; he was disappointed at Selem’s not arriving as he expected, and feared that the danger he fancied was approaching, might already have overtaken him. Javis, on perceiving his departure from the feast, followed at a distance, in hopes of offering consolation; but Conrin seemed to avoid him. At length, Javis came up with him.“Have I done aught to offend you?” he said, “know you not, that I would die an hundred deaths for your sake? Then, why do you thus shun me?”“Oh, speak not thus,” answered Conrin. “Yes, you are good, you are kind, you are brave; and grateful, deeply grateful, am I, for all that you have done for me; but I can give you no reward.”“I seek for no reward, but would comfort you,” said Javis.“You cannot comfort me. I have brought my misery upon myself; and on you, my kind friend, I have brought danger and hardship; nor know I how you may escape from them. For myself, I care not; my grief has no cure.”“Quit this vain hope. You still may have happiness with one, who loves you truly,” answered Javis.“While my life endures, never will I quit the country that holds the young chief Selem. Think you, I would leave him when a career of glory is opening out before him? I love to gaze upon his noble form, to hear his words, though spoken to others. If he fall, I shall not survive him. Now leave me, kind Javis, and forget the wrong I’ve done you. Hark, what loud shout is that?”The revelry still continued with unabated ardour. The green was covered with gay and happy dancers. Alp was to lead the last round with his sweet Zara, and then they must part, though soon to meet again. The song, the laugh, and the cheerful sounds of the musician’s strains, filling the forest glade, gladdened the hearts of all; when a shriek arose from the women, and a terrific yell like the cry of demons resounded through the woods. Before the youths could draw their swords, a fierce band of savage horsemen were upon them. Some of the affrighted maidens fled, shrieking through the groves; others stood paralysed with fear, clinging to the arms of their protectors. The banqueting tables were overturned, as the pursued and the pursuers rushed across the glade; the bright sparkling wine flowed on the grass, mingled with the red blood of the combatants, as the young warriors bravely rallied to withstand the overpowering attack of the fierce followers of the Khan Khoros Kaloret; for he it was who led the band of marauders.His eye had singled out one fair object for his prey, as he fought his way to the spot; she was struggling to escape from the grasp of one of his followers, who had seized her round the waist, to lift her on his horse; when Thaddeus, escaping from those who had attacked him, rushed forward, cleaving the savage’s shoulder to the arm. He had scarcely time to save his mistress from being crushed by the weight of the falling body, ere the Khan fiercely set on him, endeavouring to regain possession of his prize.Alp had thrown himself before Zara, at the first onset of the foe, repelling all who attacked him. He bore her in safety towards a party of their friends, assembled round the aged chief, who were keeping the horsemen at a distance to protect the women. Leaving his bride under protection, he collected a few men, and hastened to assist a small party fiercely beset by the Tartars, on whom he set with such energy, that they were compelled to fly; but only to return with fresh fury to the attack.In the mean time, the Khan, finding Ina snatched from his very grasp, threw himself on Thaddeus, with his whole force, hoping to bear him to the ground. Thaddeus eluded his first onset, placing Ina on his left side, and parrying with the greatest difficulty, the repeated and furious strokes aimed at him by the Khan. He retreated fighting, as he bore his mistress to a place of safety; when a heavy blow from the Khan’s sword brought him on his knee to the ground, though he saved his head by a timely guard. A second stroke from his opponent’s sabre would have cut him down; but Ina threw herself before him, arresting the Khan’s arm, ere his sword descended, giving Thaddeus time to recover his feet.“Foolish maiden, you shall not save your lover a second time,” exclaimed the Khan, attempting to seize her, though the movement was nearly fatal to himself; for so furious a blow did Thaddeus make at him, that he was obliged to relinquish his hold, to parry it.“Fly, Ina, fly! now that you are safe,” exclaimed her lover. “I will keep the savage chief at bay.”But Ina moved not from his side. At that moment, a fresh troop of Tartars galloped to their chief’s assistance. Thaddeus began to fear that his defence had been futile; when Alp, with a few other youths, bravely threw themselves in their way.In a different division of the grove, many of the festive party had been overthrown at the first surprise; but others, drawing their weapons, and placing themselves back to back, fought so bravely, that they gave time to their fair partners to escape; and so well did they hold their ground, that they fully occupied the greater part of the Khan’s followers; thus preventing them from going to their chiefs assistance; pursuing them so actively whenever they attempted to answer his reiterated summons, that the Tartars were again obliged to turn and defend themselves.Yet the youths, however brave, wearing only a light gala costume, and having no weapon of defence but their short swords, could scarcely withstand the furious attacks of their fully equipped enemies, for whom victory, at first wavering, was now about to declare, when the war shout of the Attèghèi was heard; and a small body of fully-armed warriors broke through the grove, led on by Selem, who fiercely attacked the first body of Tartars he met, and drove them before him. His arrival turned the fortune of the day. Several of the young men flew to the house to seize their arms, and to mount their steeds tethered in the neighbouring thickets.Selem, fighting his way up to the spot where Thaddeus was still defending Ina, compelled the Khan to retreat, foaming with rage.The events we have here described took place in a few minutes, ere the revellers, scattered in all directions, could assemble; when the old chief, having collected them, as also his serfs, and other retainers who panted with indignation at the audacious outrage committed on his territories, and at being unable to reach the perpetrators, led them against the enemy in so determined an array, that he compelled the Tartars to desist from the attack, and to seek their own safety in flight. At the same moment, a party of the young warriors returned on horseback, to fight on more equal terms; when the Khan, seeing that any further attempt to gain possession of those he hoped to capture was hopeless, called to his followers to retreat, leaving several of his band dead on the field; for so flagrant was this attack, that, as any fell, they were cut down without mercy by the Circassians.The defeated Tartars, furious with their disappointment and disgrace, hastily retreated, hotly pursued by the active Circassian youths on foot, and by Selem and a few others, who were mounted; but it was hopeless for the pedestrians to overtake them, and the horsemen were too few in number to be able to retaliate with success. The horses of Selem and his followers were fatigued; he, therefore, with Alp, urged their friends to return to arm completely, and mounting fresh steeds, to follow after the daring Khan, and take ample vengeance for the outrage he had committed.A few, already mounted on fleet horses, now set off to follow at a distance, tracking his course to bring back word what route he had taken. When at a little distance, the scouts saw the Khan’s party rein in their steeds for an instant, and seize two persons on foot, and carry them away. They were traced towards the Kouban, in the direction of the newly erected Russian fort; one of the scouts returning to give the information. The young warriors hastened to their homes to arm, and to follow Kaloret Khan. Alp, who was one of the first prepared, took a tender farewell of the weeping Zara, and instead of then making her his bride, was compelled to pursue the foe.When Selem called for Javis, he was nowhere to be found; and as he passed Ina, now with the other women assembled together, and recovering from their terror, he also missed Conrin. No one had seen the boy. He called for him through the grove. He answered not.“Oh my brother!” cried Ina, “Allah forbid that he has fallen among the slaughtered ones! For worlds I would not that poor boy should be slain.”They searched among the dead throughout the wood, expecting every moment to see his pallid features; but he was not to be found. There was wailing and weeping through the grove, which had late resounded with the sounds of merriment and song. The soft green turf, where the feet of the young and beautiful had a short time previously so joyously trodden in the dance, was now defiled with dark red pools of blood. Several youths had fallen, cut down by the Tartars on their first onset; and their female friends and relations were mourning with loud cries and lamentations over the loved ones so barbarously murdered by those whom they had ever looked upon as countrymen.As Selem and Thaddeus were prepared to start, one of the scouts returned and reported what he had seen.“It must have been Conrin then,” cried Ina. “His sad forebodings have been fulfilled, and both he and Javis have been carried off by the Khan. Oh haste, Selem, haste, my brother! Follow that cruel chief, for he bears away one who loves you more than life itself, who has sacrificed all for you. I may not say more; but for your own sake recover poor Conrin at all risks.”“Fear not, dear Ina. We will overtake the Khan, and wreak our vengeance on him,” answered Selem.Several other horsemen now coming up, he and Thaddeus took a fond, but hasty, farewell of Ina, and set off in pursuit of the Khan. Though some of their horses were of good blood and speed, yet every one of the Khan’s were picked from the fleetest he possessed, having fully calculated on the necessity of a rapid flight; so that he kept a head of his pursuers. None of the villagers of the hamlets, through which he passed, were prepared to offer him any impediment, ignorant also of his errand. Furiously and desperately he rode along, for he well knew that he had not the remotest hope of mercy should any party of the Circassians, outnumbering his own, succeed in overtaking him, and with equal eagerness was he pursued.Nothing stopped his savage band in their course; they swam their horses across the most rapid streams, leaped terrific chasms, galloped down the steepest hills, and urged their steeds up almost precipitous rocks. All the remainder of that day, did they continue their headlong course. The night stopped them not; for a few minutes, they sought repose for their horses; but the sound of their pursuer’s feet struck their ears: Again they urged on their almost falling steeds; blood streamed from their flanks; foam covered their mouths; their eye balls started wildly; but still on they went. It was death to tarry.Their pursuers caught sight of them—it was a race for life and death, captivity, perhaps death; or freedom for the poor page. They gained the forest which clothed the mountain, looking down upon the Russian fort; they dashed through it, they flew along the plain; and, as Selem and his friends gained the brow of the hill, they saw the traitor and his band enter the gates, at which they were received as friends.“Alas, my poor page and faithful follower,” exclaimed Selem; “captivity or death, will be your lot, if we cannot rescue you; but that we will do, or perish in the attempt. What say you, Thaddeus? Will yonder Russians attempt to inflict any injury on my two followers? They cannot be such barbarians.”“I fear they will,” answered Thaddeus. “Remember the fate I so narrowly escaped; I know well the Baron seeks to make some terrible example of all whom he can claim as deserters.”“But he cannot surely call those youths, deserters, who have never born arms for Russia,” answered Selem.“He will call them whatever he pleases, now that they are in his power,” said Thaddeus.“We must, at all hazards, endeavour to recover them,” exclaimed Selem. “I know not scarcely how, but that young boy has so entwined himself round my heart, that I would not lose him for worlds. He is a truly noble youth, full of warm and ardent feelings. Should his strength of body prove equal to his spirit, he will one day shew himself capable of great deeds; but one will wear out the other, I fear. The subtle essence will overcome the grosser matter.”Anxiously did the small band of warriors look down upon the Russian fort, but it would have been worse than madness to attack it with their fatigued party. Keeping, therefore, within shelter of the trees, they watched until the lights twinkled in the camp, and the watch-fires blazed around. Some proposed making an attack, endeavouring to take the enemy by surprise, and so to carry off the prisoners in the confusion; but, though Alp was eager to lead it, even Selem opposed the plan as too rash. The only feasible scheme seemed to be to hasten to the camp on the Ubin, and there raise a sufficient force to attack the fort with some chance of success.Without waiting to consult further, the young warriors turned the heads of their weary horses towards the Ubin, where, on their arrival, they excited the indignation of the assembled chiefs at the atrocious outrage committed by the Khan. The Hadji, on seeing his son, embraced him.“What, my brave Alp, have you left your pretty Zara, ere you made her your bride to assist your friends, and for the chance of a little fighting? Mashallah! you are well worthy of her, and she will love you all the better for it. I am proud of you, my boy.”The old warrior was himself delighted at an excuse for attacking the enemy, as he had begun to fear that there would be no more fighting that year; and he eagerly exerted himself in gaining volunteers for the enterprise. Arslan Gherrei, for his son’s sake, persuaded many knights to join him, besides his own immediate followers. Nor was Alp idle in collecting his friends among the wild sons of the chiefs, always ready for any daring exploit; so that, in a few hours, more than two thousand horsemen were ready to depart. Selem strongly urged that no delay should take place, for fear of the cruelty which the Russian general might inflict on his prisoners.Procuring fresh horses, therefore, the band of gallant cavaliers set out for their exploit; one that it would have been madness to attempt, except for the known incomplete state of the fortifications, which gave them hope, by a sudden onset, of leaping the unfinished trenches, and taking the garrison by surprise.

With light and bounding heart, young Alp urged on his steed towards the smiling valley of Abran Bashi, as from the summit of the last mountain he espied amid the trees the habitation of his young and beloved Zara. He wore a Persian suit of the finest chain armour, a gift from his uncle, Achmet Beg, over which was thrown a cloak of blue cloth, trimmed with gold. A belt of Turkish leather, richly embroidered in gold, (the prized gift of his mistress, worked by her own fair hand), bound his waist, holding his jewelled dagger; and at his side hung a well tempered Damascus blade. Boots also of Turkish leather, and worked by the same loved one, covered his feet. On his head, instead of the warlike helmet, he wore a cap of cloth, trimmed with a narrow border of dark fur, overshadowed by a plume of white feathers. He looked indeed a noble bridegroom, worthy of the love of Circassia’s lovely daughters, the pride of his gallant old father.

By his side rode his tried and sworn friend, the son of the brave and sturdy chief, Ali Beg, his companion in many a wild and daring adventure, when they were boys together; and lately, in the sterner and sanguinary scenes of warfare. He too was in his most gallant array, his arms furbished to their utmost polish, his coat and steel almost concealed by a gay-coloured vest, and by the cloak which hung from his shoulders. He had been selected by his friend for the honourable and important post of bridesman, to escort the bride to the house of her destined lord.

In the meantime, young Zara was counting the hours, as they seemed to crawl by, ere he came; and in spite of all old Kahija’s notions of propriety, stole often and furtively to the wicket of the enclosure surrounding the anderoon, to throw many a searching glance up the valley to the summit of the hill, over which she knew her knight must pass. Then she would run back again, and pretend to be busily engaged in her work, her ear anxiously intent to catch the sounds of his horse’s hoofs, as her eye was to search for his graceful figure. Then she would persuade herself and her friend that she had a head-ache, and that a little more fresh air would wonderfully benefit her; and she would seize Ina’s arm, and hurry off. Her friend fully comprehended the reasons of her constant visits to the gate.

“Why comes he not, Ina?” at length she said. “What think you could have delayed him on the road? He said he would come ere the shadows of yonder tree had reached the waters of the rivulet, and see it already touches the edge of the bank. Oh, Allah! can any harm have befallen him? I never think of those dreadful Urus without shuddering, and Alp is always on some hazardous expedition against them; their very name frightens me.”

“Nay,” said Ina, “let not your thoughts dwell on such fears. See the shadow has not yet reached the water, and ere it does, perhaps Alp will be here.”

“Tell me, Ina, how is it that some women of our country can be so courageous as to rush into battle, fearing not the Urus, and bear themselves as bravely as the men? For my part, I tremble at the report only of a rifle, and could not fire a pistol to defend my life,” said Zara.

“Because, dearest,” answered her friend, “you have been removed from the scenes of havoc and bloodshed, which steel their hearts from all feelings of compassion for our foes, and which nerve their arms, and inspire them with courage to avenge their wrongs.”

“It is dreadful to think of it,” exclaimed Zara, shuddering. “I would rather die at once than look on blood. The foe might kill me, but I could not fight.”

“Oh, let us pray, Allah, that the dread foe may never come near this valley, and then you need have no cause to fear them,” answered her friend.

“I almost wish that Alp was not so great a warrior; but yet I love to hear of his brave deeds. They say he will be equal to his father, and he is one of the bravest heroes of Attèghèi. Ina, I will tell you a secret. I have loved Alp for a very long time—ever since I first saw him—when he once came home, bringing two Russian prisoners. Hearing every body praise so much, I ventured to look at him, and then I saw what a gallant and noble youth he was. Then he danced with me at the marriage of one of my grandfather’s followers. Oh, how my heart leaped as he pressed my hand, and led me out on the green. I did not care for all old Kahija’s frowns. And then the soft and sweet things he said to me! I never heard words like them, and when I looked at him again, I thought him one of the handsomest of all the youths of the Attèghèi—not in the least like his father, as people said he was. I was always happy when he came, and used to play so many tricks to avoid old Kahija, who makes me so obedient at other times, though I never ventured away so far from the house as you do. Then, when he told me how much he loved me, and that he would die, or win me, I was so happy! I did not think he would have to die.”

“Yes, dear Zara, Alp is indeed a noble youth, well worthy a lady’s love,” answered Ina.

“Ah!” said Zara, clasping her friend’s arm tighter, “see, Ina, see, he comes! I see his glittering armour. I see his white plume. Ah, he hastens onward—he looks this way, to catch a glimpse of me. Now he looks at the shadow of the tall tree, to see if he have kept his promised time. See the shadow scarcely yet touches the water! He flies faster than the sun. He will be here in a few minutes. Oh, Ina, how my heart beats! I must run away—I must hide. He will think I have been looking for him. I ought not to stay here. What will Kahija say?”

Whatever Zara ought to have done, she showed not the slightest inclination to move, but continued waiting the approach of Alp, who certainly proved himself to be no dilatory lover, by the rate he galloped on. So fast indeed did he approach, that she had not time to retire if she would, before, leaping from his horse, he clasped her in his arms, spite of her blushes, and the presence of Ina, whom he seemed to have quite overlooked. He, however, now made his courtesies to her in proper form.

“See, Zara,” he said, “I sent word I would come ere the shadow of yon tall tree had reached the stream, and it but now touches the wet grass on its borders. I come, sweet one;” and he whispered a few magic words in her ear which made the roses glow more brightly in her cheeks.

“My father gives me but a few days ere he will call me back to the camp, so that we have but a short time. He will arrange all things with your grandfather, and to-morrow my home will await your coming.”

We will not dwell any longer on the interview of the lovers; nor need we describe their words of tender endearment; for love, we believe, to be much the same in all parts of the globe, influencing in the same way the thoughts and feelings of all those, whose young hearts have not been blighted and seared by the world, which too soon works a woeful change in all that is tender, pure, and lovely. These mountain lovers might not perhaps have used the courtly phrases of the cities of Frangistan; but they spoke a language which both perfectly understood, and, looking into each other’s eyes, they found words unnecessary.

They did not even perceive that Ina had long left them; and were somewhat startled in finding old Kahija standing in her place, after an interval whose duration they had not calculated. Her appearance drove many things, they were about to communicate to each other, out of their heads; and so pertinaciously did the nurse keep her ground, that Alp, who had never fled before the Russian fire, was now obliged to beat a most unwilling retreat.

From far and near came guests to grace the bridal festival of the fair young Zara and the gallant Alp. From the mountain villages, and neighbouring dells, all assembled whom war had not called from their homes, and all ranks and classes were equally welcomed by the venerable and hospitable old chief. Parties of youths and maidens came in their gayest attire, streaming over the hills and down the valleys; their embroidered cloaks fluttering in the breeze, and glittering with silver fringe, singing, as they wended their way, songs in praise of the young couple. Here some noble gallant might be seen on his gaily caparisoned charger, scouring along the valley to join the throng; others came in attendance on their fair partners for the coming dance; their gallantry more sincere, and scarcely less refined than in the civilised countries of Europe.

The vests of the maidens were ornamented in front with silver studs, and closed by clasps of the same metal; while a jewelled broach confined the bands which bound their slender waists. White veils or scarfs, nearly reaching the ground, fell from amid their braided tresses, confined at the ends by a silver cord. They wore muslin trousers, fastened round their ankles; their petticoats reaching to the knee, and embroidered slippers encased their small feet. The lower ranks were dressed in less elegant attire, though of much the same fashion; but all had done their utmost to deck their persons to the best advantage, to add to the brilliancy of the scene.

The feast was held in the grove close to the habitation of the Prince, where arbours had been erected for the fairer portion of the guests. In the principal one Zara, with Ina and old Kahija, were stationed to receive them. Numerous bands of slaves were in attendance, bearing tables to the green glade, from which, through an opening in the trees, was seen the lower part of the valley; and here the old chief stood with Alp and his friends, to receive the male guests as they quickly assembled. The tables were spread in long rows on the grassy lawn; the chiefs, and those of higher rank, being seated round their venerable host, while those not of noble birth and the freemen, were placed at the other end.

In the neighbouring thicket were numerous fires, at each of which was suspended a nobly charged spit, or a kettle tended by female slaves busily employed in preparing viands for the large party assembled. At a distance stood in eager and hungry expectation, the serfs and those not of rank sufficiently high to enjoy the privilege of sitting at table; but to whom the remainder of the banquet was to be served when the nobles had finished. There were minstrels also to chaunt forth the praise of the bridegroom and his fair Zara, one taking up the strain from the other, and each endeavouring to outdo the first in praise and delicacy of compliment.

In the meantime, Zara and her fair companions were entertained in the arbours, whence their light ringing laughter reached the spot where the nobles were seated. Though many of the party where Mahometans, the cup of sparkling wine often passed round to the sound of music; but they remained not long seated, for eager were the youths to join the dance, when they saw the troops of lovely maidens tripping gaily along the verdant glade, entwining round their graceful forms wreaths of bright flowers. The youths spiling quickly from the tables in pursuit of their fair partners; and vain were their laughing efforts to escape from the quick footed, active mountaineers, who soon overtook them, leading them back no unwilling prisoners to the smoothest and most level spot for dancing.

Then did the musicians strike up their gayest airs; the dancers moving first to slow and measured time, in circles alternately of youths and maids, now lifting their arms in graceful undulations aloft and now joining their hands in the centre. Then, as the music quickened, pursuing each other round and round; the maids wreathing their flowers and circling the heads of the youth as they knelt at their feet. Then springing up, they pursued their giddy course.

Alp led forth his bride elect, the last time he could thus appear with her in public; Thaddeus, following his example with Ina; and many a closely veiled and hooded matron of high rank conducted to the dance their daughters to receive the hands of partners. Gracefully they moved through the forest glades. The minstrels exerted their talents to the utmost, and were joined, at times, by the sweet voices of the fair dancers; while, occasionally, laughter resounded on all sides. The elders and matrons, seated on divans and carpets in the arbours or beneath the shade of the trees, looked on with approbation, applauding the graceful movements and activity of their children.

The time was now approaching when Zara must leave the gay scene to be attired in her thick veil in preparation for her journey, old Ivahija being in waiting to carry her off to the house.

All present seemed full of happiness, except the young page, Conrin. The joyousness of the scene grated on his feelings; and forsaking the throng, he sought to calm his troubled thoughts at a distance in solitude and quiet. He earnestly longed to see his master again; he was disappointed at Selem’s not arriving as he expected, and feared that the danger he fancied was approaching, might already have overtaken him. Javis, on perceiving his departure from the feast, followed at a distance, in hopes of offering consolation; but Conrin seemed to avoid him. At length, Javis came up with him.

“Have I done aught to offend you?” he said, “know you not, that I would die an hundred deaths for your sake? Then, why do you thus shun me?”

“Oh, speak not thus,” answered Conrin. “Yes, you are good, you are kind, you are brave; and grateful, deeply grateful, am I, for all that you have done for me; but I can give you no reward.”

“I seek for no reward, but would comfort you,” said Javis.

“You cannot comfort me. I have brought my misery upon myself; and on you, my kind friend, I have brought danger and hardship; nor know I how you may escape from them. For myself, I care not; my grief has no cure.”

“Quit this vain hope. You still may have happiness with one, who loves you truly,” answered Javis.

“While my life endures, never will I quit the country that holds the young chief Selem. Think you, I would leave him when a career of glory is opening out before him? I love to gaze upon his noble form, to hear his words, though spoken to others. If he fall, I shall not survive him. Now leave me, kind Javis, and forget the wrong I’ve done you. Hark, what loud shout is that?”

The revelry still continued with unabated ardour. The green was covered with gay and happy dancers. Alp was to lead the last round with his sweet Zara, and then they must part, though soon to meet again. The song, the laugh, and the cheerful sounds of the musician’s strains, filling the forest glade, gladdened the hearts of all; when a shriek arose from the women, and a terrific yell like the cry of demons resounded through the woods. Before the youths could draw their swords, a fierce band of savage horsemen were upon them. Some of the affrighted maidens fled, shrieking through the groves; others stood paralysed with fear, clinging to the arms of their protectors. The banqueting tables were overturned, as the pursued and the pursuers rushed across the glade; the bright sparkling wine flowed on the grass, mingled with the red blood of the combatants, as the young warriors bravely rallied to withstand the overpowering attack of the fierce followers of the Khan Khoros Kaloret; for he it was who led the band of marauders.

His eye had singled out one fair object for his prey, as he fought his way to the spot; she was struggling to escape from the grasp of one of his followers, who had seized her round the waist, to lift her on his horse; when Thaddeus, escaping from those who had attacked him, rushed forward, cleaving the savage’s shoulder to the arm. He had scarcely time to save his mistress from being crushed by the weight of the falling body, ere the Khan fiercely set on him, endeavouring to regain possession of his prize.

Alp had thrown himself before Zara, at the first onset of the foe, repelling all who attacked him. He bore her in safety towards a party of their friends, assembled round the aged chief, who were keeping the horsemen at a distance to protect the women. Leaving his bride under protection, he collected a few men, and hastened to assist a small party fiercely beset by the Tartars, on whom he set with such energy, that they were compelled to fly; but only to return with fresh fury to the attack.

In the mean time, the Khan, finding Ina snatched from his very grasp, threw himself on Thaddeus, with his whole force, hoping to bear him to the ground. Thaddeus eluded his first onset, placing Ina on his left side, and parrying with the greatest difficulty, the repeated and furious strokes aimed at him by the Khan. He retreated fighting, as he bore his mistress to a place of safety; when a heavy blow from the Khan’s sword brought him on his knee to the ground, though he saved his head by a timely guard. A second stroke from his opponent’s sabre would have cut him down; but Ina threw herself before him, arresting the Khan’s arm, ere his sword descended, giving Thaddeus time to recover his feet.

“Foolish maiden, you shall not save your lover a second time,” exclaimed the Khan, attempting to seize her, though the movement was nearly fatal to himself; for so furious a blow did Thaddeus make at him, that he was obliged to relinquish his hold, to parry it.

“Fly, Ina, fly! now that you are safe,” exclaimed her lover. “I will keep the savage chief at bay.”

But Ina moved not from his side. At that moment, a fresh troop of Tartars galloped to their chief’s assistance. Thaddeus began to fear that his defence had been futile; when Alp, with a few other youths, bravely threw themselves in their way.

In a different division of the grove, many of the festive party had been overthrown at the first surprise; but others, drawing their weapons, and placing themselves back to back, fought so bravely, that they gave time to their fair partners to escape; and so well did they hold their ground, that they fully occupied the greater part of the Khan’s followers; thus preventing them from going to their chiefs assistance; pursuing them so actively whenever they attempted to answer his reiterated summons, that the Tartars were again obliged to turn and defend themselves.

Yet the youths, however brave, wearing only a light gala costume, and having no weapon of defence but their short swords, could scarcely withstand the furious attacks of their fully equipped enemies, for whom victory, at first wavering, was now about to declare, when the war shout of the Attèghèi was heard; and a small body of fully-armed warriors broke through the grove, led on by Selem, who fiercely attacked the first body of Tartars he met, and drove them before him. His arrival turned the fortune of the day. Several of the young men flew to the house to seize their arms, and to mount their steeds tethered in the neighbouring thickets.

Selem, fighting his way up to the spot where Thaddeus was still defending Ina, compelled the Khan to retreat, foaming with rage.

The events we have here described took place in a few minutes, ere the revellers, scattered in all directions, could assemble; when the old chief, having collected them, as also his serfs, and other retainers who panted with indignation at the audacious outrage committed on his territories, and at being unable to reach the perpetrators, led them against the enemy in so determined an array, that he compelled the Tartars to desist from the attack, and to seek their own safety in flight. At the same moment, a party of the young warriors returned on horseback, to fight on more equal terms; when the Khan, seeing that any further attempt to gain possession of those he hoped to capture was hopeless, called to his followers to retreat, leaving several of his band dead on the field; for so flagrant was this attack, that, as any fell, they were cut down without mercy by the Circassians.

The defeated Tartars, furious with their disappointment and disgrace, hastily retreated, hotly pursued by the active Circassian youths on foot, and by Selem and a few others, who were mounted; but it was hopeless for the pedestrians to overtake them, and the horsemen were too few in number to be able to retaliate with success. The horses of Selem and his followers were fatigued; he, therefore, with Alp, urged their friends to return to arm completely, and mounting fresh steeds, to follow after the daring Khan, and take ample vengeance for the outrage he had committed.

A few, already mounted on fleet horses, now set off to follow at a distance, tracking his course to bring back word what route he had taken. When at a little distance, the scouts saw the Khan’s party rein in their steeds for an instant, and seize two persons on foot, and carry them away. They were traced towards the Kouban, in the direction of the newly erected Russian fort; one of the scouts returning to give the information. The young warriors hastened to their homes to arm, and to follow Kaloret Khan. Alp, who was one of the first prepared, took a tender farewell of the weeping Zara, and instead of then making her his bride, was compelled to pursue the foe.

When Selem called for Javis, he was nowhere to be found; and as he passed Ina, now with the other women assembled together, and recovering from their terror, he also missed Conrin. No one had seen the boy. He called for him through the grove. He answered not.

“Oh my brother!” cried Ina, “Allah forbid that he has fallen among the slaughtered ones! For worlds I would not that poor boy should be slain.”

They searched among the dead throughout the wood, expecting every moment to see his pallid features; but he was not to be found. There was wailing and weeping through the grove, which had late resounded with the sounds of merriment and song. The soft green turf, where the feet of the young and beautiful had a short time previously so joyously trodden in the dance, was now defiled with dark red pools of blood. Several youths had fallen, cut down by the Tartars on their first onset; and their female friends and relations were mourning with loud cries and lamentations over the loved ones so barbarously murdered by those whom they had ever looked upon as countrymen.

As Selem and Thaddeus were prepared to start, one of the scouts returned and reported what he had seen.

“It must have been Conrin then,” cried Ina. “His sad forebodings have been fulfilled, and both he and Javis have been carried off by the Khan. Oh haste, Selem, haste, my brother! Follow that cruel chief, for he bears away one who loves you more than life itself, who has sacrificed all for you. I may not say more; but for your own sake recover poor Conrin at all risks.”

“Fear not, dear Ina. We will overtake the Khan, and wreak our vengeance on him,” answered Selem.

Several other horsemen now coming up, he and Thaddeus took a fond, but hasty, farewell of Ina, and set off in pursuit of the Khan. Though some of their horses were of good blood and speed, yet every one of the Khan’s were picked from the fleetest he possessed, having fully calculated on the necessity of a rapid flight; so that he kept a head of his pursuers. None of the villagers of the hamlets, through which he passed, were prepared to offer him any impediment, ignorant also of his errand. Furiously and desperately he rode along, for he well knew that he had not the remotest hope of mercy should any party of the Circassians, outnumbering his own, succeed in overtaking him, and with equal eagerness was he pursued.

Nothing stopped his savage band in their course; they swam their horses across the most rapid streams, leaped terrific chasms, galloped down the steepest hills, and urged their steeds up almost precipitous rocks. All the remainder of that day, did they continue their headlong course. The night stopped them not; for a few minutes, they sought repose for their horses; but the sound of their pursuer’s feet struck their ears: Again they urged on their almost falling steeds; blood streamed from their flanks; foam covered their mouths; their eye balls started wildly; but still on they went. It was death to tarry.

Their pursuers caught sight of them—it was a race for life and death, captivity, perhaps death; or freedom for the poor page. They gained the forest which clothed the mountain, looking down upon the Russian fort; they dashed through it, they flew along the plain; and, as Selem and his friends gained the brow of the hill, they saw the traitor and his band enter the gates, at which they were received as friends.

“Alas, my poor page and faithful follower,” exclaimed Selem; “captivity or death, will be your lot, if we cannot rescue you; but that we will do, or perish in the attempt. What say you, Thaddeus? Will yonder Russians attempt to inflict any injury on my two followers? They cannot be such barbarians.”

“I fear they will,” answered Thaddeus. “Remember the fate I so narrowly escaped; I know well the Baron seeks to make some terrible example of all whom he can claim as deserters.”

“But he cannot surely call those youths, deserters, who have never born arms for Russia,” answered Selem.

“He will call them whatever he pleases, now that they are in his power,” said Thaddeus.

“We must, at all hazards, endeavour to recover them,” exclaimed Selem. “I know not scarcely how, but that young boy has so entwined himself round my heart, that I would not lose him for worlds. He is a truly noble youth, full of warm and ardent feelings. Should his strength of body prove equal to his spirit, he will one day shew himself capable of great deeds; but one will wear out the other, I fear. The subtle essence will overcome the grosser matter.”

Anxiously did the small band of warriors look down upon the Russian fort, but it would have been worse than madness to attack it with their fatigued party. Keeping, therefore, within shelter of the trees, they watched until the lights twinkled in the camp, and the watch-fires blazed around. Some proposed making an attack, endeavouring to take the enemy by surprise, and so to carry off the prisoners in the confusion; but, though Alp was eager to lead it, even Selem opposed the plan as too rash. The only feasible scheme seemed to be to hasten to the camp on the Ubin, and there raise a sufficient force to attack the fort with some chance of success.

Without waiting to consult further, the young warriors turned the heads of their weary horses towards the Ubin, where, on their arrival, they excited the indignation of the assembled chiefs at the atrocious outrage committed by the Khan. The Hadji, on seeing his son, embraced him.

“What, my brave Alp, have you left your pretty Zara, ere you made her your bride to assist your friends, and for the chance of a little fighting? Mashallah! you are well worthy of her, and she will love you all the better for it. I am proud of you, my boy.”

The old warrior was himself delighted at an excuse for attacking the enemy, as he had begun to fear that there would be no more fighting that year; and he eagerly exerted himself in gaining volunteers for the enterprise. Arslan Gherrei, for his son’s sake, persuaded many knights to join him, besides his own immediate followers. Nor was Alp idle in collecting his friends among the wild sons of the chiefs, always ready for any daring exploit; so that, in a few hours, more than two thousand horsemen were ready to depart. Selem strongly urged that no delay should take place, for fear of the cruelty which the Russian general might inflict on his prisoners.

Procuring fresh horses, therefore, the band of gallant cavaliers set out for their exploit; one that it would have been madness to attempt, except for the known incomplete state of the fortifications, which gave them hope, by a sudden onset, of leaping the unfinished trenches, and taking the garrison by surprise.

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