Volume One--Chapter Six.“Mashallah! How wonderful is God! Did the caliph Haroun ever hear such stories?” observed the pacha, taking the pipe from his mouth, as he was indulging in company with Mustapha: “that infidel tells strange histories of strange countries—What will his mouth open to next?”“The Shaitan bacheh, for a son of the devil he still is, although he wears the turban and bows to Allah, will prove a treasury of amusement to your sublime highness,” replied Mustapha: “but what are the words of the sage?—‘If thou hast gold in thy hazneh, keep it locked, and add thereto; thus shalt thou become rich.’”“They are the words of wisdom,” replied the pacha.“Then may I advise your highness to walk out this evening in search of more, and not exhaust that which is in your possession?”“Wallah thaib! It is well said!” answered the pacha, rising from his musnud or carpet of state: “the moon is up—when all is ready we will proceed.”In a quarter of an hour the pacha, attended by Mustapha and the armed slaves as before, again set out upon their perambulations through the city of Cairo.They had not walked more than half an hour when they observed two men sitting at the door of a fruit-shop, at high words with each other. The pacha held up his finger to Mustapha, as a sign to stop, that he might overhear their discourse.“I tell you, Ali, that it is impossible to hear those long stories of yours without losing one’s temper.”“Long stories!” whispered the pacha to Mustapha with delight: “the very thing!—Shukur Allah! Thanks be to God!”“And I tell you in reply, Hussan, that yours are ten times worse. You never have spoken for ten minutes without my feeling an inclination to salute your mouth with the heel of my slipper. I wish there was any one who would hear us both, and decide the point.”“That I will,” said the pacha, going up to them: “to-morrow I will hear both your stories, and decide upon the merits of each.”“And who are you?” observed one of the men with surprise.“His highness the pacha,” replied Mustapha, coming forward. Both the men prostrated themselves, while the pacha directed Mustapha that they should be brought before him on the following day; and the vizier, having given them in charge to the slaves who had followed at a distance, returned home with the pacha, who was delighted at the rich harvest which he expected to reap from the two people who accused each other of telling such long stories.When the divan of the following day had closed, the two men were summoned into the presence of the pacha.“I shall now decide upon the merits of your stories,” observed he. “Sit down there both of you, and agree between yourselves which of you will begin.”“May it please your highness, you will never be able to listen to this man Ali,” observed Hussan: “you had better send him away.”“Allah preserve your highness from all evil,” replied Ali, “but more especially from the talking of Hussan, which is as oppressive as the hot wind of the desert.”“I have not sent for you to hear you dispute in my presence, but to hear your stories. Ali, do you begin.”“I do assure your highness,” interrupted Hussan, “that you will not listen to him three minutes.”“I do assure you,” retorted the pacha, “that if you say one word more, until you are ordered, you will be rewarded with the bastinado for your trouble. Ali, begin your story.”“Well, your highness, it was about thirty years ago,you know, that I was a little boy,you know.”Here Hussan lifted up his hands, and, smiled.“Well your highness,you know—”“I don’t know, Ali: how can I know until you tell me,” observed the pacha.“Well then, your highness must know, that ever since I was born I have lived in the same street where your highness saw us seated last night, and thirty years,you know, is a long period in a man’s life. My father was a gardener, and people of his condition,you know, are obliged to get up early, that they may be in time for the market, where,you know, they bring their vegetables for sale.”“This is all very true, I dare say,” observed the pacha, “but you will oblige me by leaving out all thoseyou knows, which I agree with your comrade Hussan to be very tedious.”“That’s what I have already told him, your highness: ‘Ali,’says I, ‘if you can only leave out youryou knows,’says I, ‘your story might be amusing, but,’says I—”“Silence with yoursays I’s,” observed the pacha; “have you forgotten the bastinado? there seems to be a pair of you. Ali, go on with the story, and remember my injunction; the felek and ferashes are at hand.”“Well, your highness, one morning he rose earlier than usual, as he was anxious to be first in the market with some onions, which,you know, are very plentiful; and having laden his ass, he set off at a good round pace for the city. There,you know, he arrived at the market-place a little after the day had dawned, when,you know—”“Did you not receive my orders to leave outyou know. Am I to be obeyed or not? Now go on, and if you offend again you shall have the bastinado till your nails drop off.”“I shall observe your highness’s wishes,” replied Ali.—“A little after the day had dawned,you—no, he, I mean, observed an old woman sitting near one of the fruit-stalls, with her head covered up in an old dark-blue capote; and as he passed by,you—she, I mean, held out one of her fingers, and said, ‘Ali Baba,’ for that was my father’s name, ‘Listen to good advice; leave your laden beast and follow me.’ Now my father,you know, not being inclined to pay any attention to such an old woman, replied,you know—”“Holy Allah!” exclaimed the pacha in a rage to Mustapha, “what does this man deserve?”“The punishment due to those who dare to disobey your highness’s commands.”“And he shall have it; take him out; give him one hundred blows of the bastinado; put him on an ass, with his face turned towards the tail; and let the officer who conducts him through the town proclaim, ‘Such is the punishment awarded by the pacha to him who presumes to say that his highness knows, when in fact, he knows nothing.’”The guards seized upon the unfortunate Ali, to put in execution the will of the pacha; and as he was dragged away, Hussan cried out, “I told you so; but you would not believe me.”“Well,” replied Ali, “I’ve one comfort, your story’s not told yet. His highness has yet to decide which is the best.”After a few minutes’ pause, to recover himself from the ruffling of his temper, the pacha addressed the other man—“Now, Hussan, you will begin your story; and observe that I am rather in an ill-humour.”“How can your highness be otherwise, after the annoyance of that bore Ali? I said so; ‘Ali,’says I—”“Go on with your story,” repeated the pacha angrily.“It was about two years ago, your highness, when I was sitting at the door of the fruit-shop, which your highness might have observed when you saw us last night, that a young female, who seemed above the common class, came in, followed by a porter. ‘I want some melons,’ says she. ‘I have very fine ones, so walk in,’says I, and I handed down from the upper shelf, where they were placed, four or five musk, and four or five water-melons.“‘Now,’says I, ‘young woman, you’ll observe that these are much finer melons,’says I, ‘than you usually can procure; therefore the lowest price that I can take,’says I, ‘is—’”“Why yoursays I’sare much worse than Ali’syou knows; leave them out, if you please, and proceed with your story,” cried the pacha, with increased ill-humour.“I will obey, your highness, if possible. I stated the lowest price, and she lifted up her veil—‘I have an idea,’ said she, as she allowed me to look upon one of the prettiest faces in the world, ‘that they are to be had cheaper.’“I was so struck with her beauty that I was quite speechless. ‘Am I not right?’ said she, smiling. ‘From you, madam,’says I, ‘I can take nothing; put as many in the basket of your porter as you please.’ She thanked me, and put into the basket all that I had handed down.“‘Now,’says she, ‘I want some dates, the best and finest that you have.’ I handed some down, that would have been admired by the ladies of your highness’s harem. ‘These, madam,’says I, ‘are the best dates that are to be found in Cairo.’ She tasted them, and asked the price: I mentioned it. ‘They are dear,’ replied she, ‘but I must have them cheaper,’ and again she lifted her veil. ‘Madam,’says I, ‘these dates are much too cheap at the price which I have mentioned; it really is impossible to take one para less; observe, madam,’says I, ‘the beauty of them, feel the weight, and taste them,’says I, ‘and you must acknowledge,’says I, ‘that they are offered to you at a price which,’says I—”“Holy Prophet!” cried the pacha in a rage; “I will hear no more of yoursays I’s: if you cannot tell your story without them, you shall fare worse than Ali.”“May it please your highness, how will it be possible for you to know what I said, unless I point out to you what I did say? I cannot tell my story without it.”“I’ll see that,” replied the pacha, in a savage tone; and making a sign, the executioner made his appearance. “Now, then, go on with your story; and, executioner, after he has repeatedsays Ithree times, off with his head! Go on.”“I shall never be able to go on, your highness; consider one moment how harmless mysays I’sare to the detestableyou knowsof Ali. That’s what I always told him ‘Ali,’says I, ‘if you only knew,’says I, ‘how annoying you are! Why there,’says I—”At this moment the blow of the scimitar fell, and the head of Hussan rolled upon the floor; the lips, from the force of habit, still quivering in their convulsions with the motioning which would have producedsays I, if the channel of sound had not been so effectually interrupted.“That story’s ended!” observed the pacha in a rage. “Of all the nuisances I ever encountered, these two men have beat them all. Allah forbid that I should again meet with asays I, oryou know!”“Your highness is all wisdom,” observed Mustapha; “may such ever be the fate of those who cannot tell their stories without saying what they said.” The pacha, irritated at his disappointment, and little soothed by the remark of Mustapha, without making any answer to it was about to retire to his harem, when Mustapha, with a low salaam, informed him that the renegade was in attendance to relate his Second Voyage, if he might be permitted to kiss the dust in his presence. “Khoda shefa midêhed—God gives relief,” replied the pacha, as he resumed his seat: “let him approach.”The renegade entered; and having paid the customary obeisance, took his seat, and commenced the narrative of his Second Voyage:—May it please your most sublime highness, the day after I embarked we sailed with a fair wind; and having cleared the Straits, flattered ourselves with the prospect of a successful voyage; but we were miserably disappointed, for three days afterwards we fell in with a small brig under English colours. As she was evidently a merchant vessel we paid no attention to her running down to us, supposing that she was out of her reckoning, and wished to know her exact position on the chart. But as soon as she was close to us, instead of passing under our stern, as we expected, she rounded to, and laid us by the board. Taken by surprise and having no arms, we were beaten down below; and in a few minutes the vessel remained in the possession of our assailants. They held a short consultation, and then opening the hatches, a boatswain pulled out his whistle, and in a tremendous voice roared out, “All hands ahoy!” which was followed by his crying out, “Tumble up there, tumble up!” As we understood this to be a signal for our appearance on deck, we obeyed the summons. When we all came up, we found out that if we had had any idea that they were enemies, we might have beaten them off, as they were only fifteen in number while we mustered sixteen. But it was too late: we were unarmed, and they had each of them a cutlass, with two pistols stuck in their girdles. As soon as we were all on deck, they bound our arms behind us with ropes and ranged us in a line. Having inquired of each of us our respective ranks and professions, they held a short consultation, and the boatswain addressing me, said: “Thank Heaven, you scoundrel, that you were brought up as a barber, for it has saved your life!”He then cut loose the cords which bound me, and I remained at liberty. “Now then, my lads!” continued the boatswain, “Come, every man his bird!” and, so saying, he seized upon the captain of the vessel, and leading him to the gangway, passed his sword through his body, and tossed him into the sea.In the same manner each of the murderous villains led forward the man he had selected, and putting an end to his life, either by the sword or pistol, launched the corpse into the waves.My blood curdled as I beheld the scene, but I said nothing. I considered myself too fortunate to escape with life. When it was all over, the boatswain roared out, “That job’s done! Now, Mr Barber, swab up all this here blood, and be damned to you! and recollect that you are one of us.” I obeyed in fear and silence, and then returned to my former station near the taffrail.The people who had captured us, as I afterwards found out, were part of the crew of an English Guinea-man, who had murdered the master and mate, and had taken possession of the vessel. As our brig was a much finer craft in every respect, they determined upon retaining her and scuttling their own. Before night they had made all their arrangements, and were standing to the westward with a fine breeze.But exactly as the bell struck eight for midnight, a tremendous voice was heard at the hatchway, if possible more than a hunched times louder than the boatswain’s, roaring out “All hands ahoy!”The concussion of the air was so great, that the ship trembled as if she had been struck by a thunderbolt; and as soon as the motion had subsided, the water was heard to rush into every part of the hold. Every body ran on deck astonished with the sound, expecting the vessel immediately to go down, and looking at each other with horror as they stood trembling in their shirts. The water continued to rush into the vessel until it reached the orlop beams; then as suddenly it stopped.When the panic had to a certain degree subsided, and they perceived that the water did not increase, all hands applied to the pumps, and by eight o’clock in the morning the vessel was free. Still the unaccountable circumstance weighed heavy on the minds of the seamen, who walked the deck without speaking to each other, or paying any attention to the ship’s course; and as no one took the command, no one was ordered to the helm.For my own part, I thought it a judgment upon them for their cruelty; and, expecting that worse would happen, I had made up my mind to my fate. I thought of Marie, and hoping for pardon yet fearing the worst, I vowed if I escaped that I would amend my life.At night we again retired to our hammocks, but no one slept, so afraid were we of a second visitation. The bell was not struck by the men, but it struck itself, louder than I ever heard it before; and again the dreadful voice was heard, “All hands ahoy!” again the water rushed in, and again we ran on deck. As before, it mounted as high as the orlop beams; it then stopped, and was pumped out again by eight o’clock on the ensuing morning.For a month, during which time we never saw land, for we had lost all reckoning, and no one cared to steer—the same dreadful visitation took place. Habit had, to a degree, hardened the men; they now swore and got drunk as before, and even made a jest of theboatswain of the middle watch, as they called him, but at the same time they were worn out with constant fatigue; and one night they declared that they would pump no longer. The water remained in the vessel all that day, and we retired to our hammocks as usual, when at midnight the same voice was again heard at the hatchway, not followed by the rush of water, but by a shriek of “Tumble up there, tumble up!”We all started at the summons, and hastened on deck; there was something that impelled us in spite of ourselves. Never shall I forget the horrid sight which presented itself: stretched in a row on the deck of the vessel lay the fifteen bloody corpses of my shipmates who had been murdered. We stood aghast; the hair rose straight up from our heads, as we viewed the supernatural reappearances. After a pause of about five minutes, during which we never spoke or even moved, one of the corpses cried out in a sepulchral voice, “Come, every man his bird!” and held up its arms as it lay.The man, whose office it had been to take the living body to the gangway, and after killing it to throw it overboard, advanced towards it; he was evidently impelled by a supernatural power, for never shall I forget the look of horror, the faint scream of agony, which escaped him as he obeyed the summons. Like the trembling bird fascinated by the snake, he fell into the arms of the dead body; which grasping him tight, rolled over and over in convolutions like a serpent, until it gained the break of the gangway, and then tumbled into the sea with its murderer entwined in its embraces. A flash of lightning succeeded, which blinded us for several minutes; and when we recovered our vision, the remainder of the bodies had disappeared.The effect upon the guilty wretches was dreadful; there they lay, each man on the deck where he had crouched down, when the lightning had flashed upon him: the sun rose upon them, yet they moved not; he poured his beams on their naked bodies when at his meridian height, yet they still remained: the evening closed in, and found them in the same positions. As soon as it was dark, as if released from a spell, they crawled below, and went into their hammocks: at midnight again the bell struck; again the voice was heard, followed by the shriek; again they repaired on deck: the fourteen remaining bodies lay in a row: another of the murderers was summoned, obeyed, and disappeared: again the flash of lightning burst upon us, and all had vanished: and thus it continued every night, until the boatswain, who was reserved for the last, was dragged overboard after the rest by the corpse of the captain; and then a tremendous voice from the maintop, followed by exulting laughter, cried out, “That job’s done.” Immediately after which, the water rushed out of the bottom of the vessel, and she was clear as before.Returning thanks to Heaven that I was not a party sufferer with the rest, I lay down, and for the first time for many weeks fell into a sound sleep. How long I slept, I know not: it may have been days; but I awoke at last by the sound of voices, and found that the people on board of a vessel bound from Mexico to the South of Spain, perceiving the brig lying with her sails torn, and her yards not trimmed, had sent a boat to ascertain whether there was any body remaining in her. I was afraid that if I told them what had happened, they either would not believe me, or else would refuse to take on board a person who had been in company with such examples of divine vengeance. I therefore stated that we had been attacked by dysentery about six weeks before, and all had died except myself, who was supercargo of the brig.As their vessel was but half full, the cargo, consisting chiefly of cochineal and copper, which is stowed in small space, the captain offered to take as many of my goods as he could stow, provided I would allow him the freight. This I willingly consented to, and examining the manifest, selected the most valuable, which were removed to the Spanish vessel.We had a favourable wind; and having run through the Straits, expected in a day or two we should anchor at Valencia, to which port she was bound; but a violent gale came on from the N.E., which lasted many days, and drove us over to the African shore. To increase our misfortunes, the ship sprung a-leak, and made so much water that we could scarcely keep her free.The Spaniards are but indifferent sailors, your highness, and in a storm are more inclined to pray than to work: they became frightened, gave over pumping, and having lighted a candle before the image of St. Antonio, which was fixed on the stern of the vessel, began to call upon him for assistance. Not immediately obtaining their request, they took the image out of the shrine, abused it, called it every vile name that they could think of, and ended with tying it against the mainmast, and beating it with ropes.In the mean time the vessel filled more and more; whereas, if instead of praying, they had continued at the pumps, we should have done well enough, as the gale was abating, and she did not make so much water as before.Enraged at their cowardice, and at the idea of losing so much property as I had on board (for I considered it as my own,) I seized the image from the mast, and threw it overboard, telling them to go to their pumps if they wished to be saved. The whole crew uttered a cry of horror, and would have thrown me after the image, but I made my escape up the rigging, from whence I dared not descend for many hours.Having now no saint to appeal to, they once more applied to the pumps. To their astonishment, the vessel made no more water, and in the course of a few hours she was free.The next morning the gale was over, and we were steering for Valencia. I observed that the captain and sailors avoided me, but I cared little about it, as I felt that my conduct had saved the ship as well as my own property. On the second day we anchored in the bay, and were boarded by the authorities, who went down into the cabin, and had a long conversation with the captain. They quitted the ship, and about an hour afterwards I proposed going ashore, but the captain said that he could not permit it until the next morning. While I was expostulating with him as to the reasons for my detention, a boat rowed alongside, from out of which came two personages dressed in black. I knew them to be familiars of the Inquisition; and it immediately occurred to me that my personification of the lady abbess had been discovered, and that my doom was sealed. The captain pointed me out; they collared and handed me into the boat, and pulled for the shore in silence.When we landed, I was put into a black coach, and conveyed to the palace of the Inquisition, where I was thrown into one of the lowest dungeons. The next day the familiars appeared, and led me to the hall of judgment, where I was asked whether I confessed my crime. I replied that I did not know what I was accused of. They again asked me if I would confess, and on my making the same answer I was ordered to the torture.As I knew that I had no chance, I thought I might as well avoid unnecessary pain, and declared that I did confess it.“What instigated you to the deed?”Not well knowing what to reply, as I was not exactly aware of the nature of my offence, I answered that it was the blessed Virgin.“Blasphemer!” cried the grand inquisitor, “what! the blessed Virgin desired you to throw St. Antonio overboard?”“Yes,” replied I (glad that at all events the crime was not what I had anticipated), “she did; and told me that it would be the saving of the vessel.”“Where were you?”“On the deck.”“Where did you see her?”“She was sitting on a small blue cloud, a little above the topsail-yard. ‘Fear not, François,’ said she, motioning with her hand, ‘to throw the image overboard.’” The inquisitors were astonished at my boldness: a consultation was held, as to whether I should be treated as a blasphemer, or the circumstance blazoned into a miracle. But it unfortunately happened for me that a miracle had occurred very lately; and there were very few people to be burnt at theauto-da-féof the ensuing month.It was therefore decided against me. I was reviled, abused, and sentenced to the flames; but I determined, as my only chance, to put a good face upon the matter to the very last. Looking up, as if to a point in the ceiling of the dark hall of judgment, and holding my hands before, as if in amazement—“Holy Virgin,” cried I, bending on my knee, “I thank thee for the sign. My Lord,” continued I fiercely, “I fear you not; you have sentenced me to perish by the flames; I tell you that I shall leave my dungeon with honour, and be as much courted as I have been now reviled.”The inquisitors were for a moment staggered, but their surprise gave place to their cruelty, when they considered how long they had tortured thousands for doubting points to which they themselves had never for a moment given credence. I was remanded to my dungeon; and the gaoler, who had never before witnessed such boldness in the hall of justice, and was impressed with the conviction that I was supported as I had affirmed, treated me with kindness, affording me comforts, which, had it been known, would have cost him his situation.In the meantime the cargo of the vessel was landed at the Custom-house, and she was hauled on shore to have her bottom caulked and pitched, when, to the astonishment of the captain and crew, the hole which had occasioned the leak was discovered with the head of the figure of the saint, which I had thrown overboard, so firmly wedged in, that it required some force to pull it out. “A miracle! a miracle!” was cried from the quays, and proclaimed through every part of the town. It was evident that the Virgin had instigated me to throw over the image, as the only means of stopping the leak. The friars of the nearest convent claimed the image from their propinquity, and came down to the ship in grand procession to carry it to their church. The grand inquisitor, hearing the circumstance, acknowledged to the bishop and heads of the clergy my intrepid behaviour in the hall of judgment: and not three hours after the ship had been hauled on shore, I was visited in my dungeon by the grand inquisitor, the bishop, and a long procession, my pardon requested, and the kiss of peace demanded and given. I was taken away with every mark of respect, and looked upon as one under special favour of the Virgin. “Did I not say, my lord, that I should leave my dungeon in honour?”“You did, my friend,” answered the inquisitor: and I heard him mutter, “either there is such a person as the Virgin Mary, or you are a most ready-witted scoundrel.”During my stay at Valencia, I was courted and feasted by every body, and sold my goods at an enormous price; for every one thought that to possess any thing that had belonged to me must bring them good fortune. I received many handsome presents, had divers requests to become a member of the different fraternities of monks, and eventually quitted the town with a large sum of money, with which I proceeded to Toulon, with the intention of making some inquiry after my dear Cerise, whose image was still the object of my dreams, as well as of my waking thoughts.“Stop,” said the pacha; “I wish to know, whether you believe that the Virgin, as you call her, did thrust the head of the image into the hole in the bottom of the ship.”“May it please your highness, I do not. I believe it originated from nothing but cause and effect. It is the nature of a whirlpool to draw down all substances that come within its vortex. The water pouring into the bottom of the ship is but the vortex of a whirlpool reversed; and the image of the saint, when it was thrown overboard to leeward of the ship, which was pressed down upon it by the power of the wind, was forced under the water, until it was taken into the vortex of the leak, and naturally found its way into the hole.”“I dare say you are very right,” answered the pacha, “but I don’t understand a word you have said.”“Such, your highness, were the adventures attending my Second Voyage,” concluded the renegade, with an inclination of his head.“And a very good voyage too! I like it better than your first. Mustapha, give him ten pieces of gold: you will bring him here to-morrow, and we will hear what happened in his third.”“You observe,” said Mustapha, when the pacha had retired, “my advice was good.”“Most excellent!” replied the renegade, holding out his hand for the money: “To-morrow I’ll lie like any barber.”
“Mashallah! How wonderful is God! Did the caliph Haroun ever hear such stories?” observed the pacha, taking the pipe from his mouth, as he was indulging in company with Mustapha: “that infidel tells strange histories of strange countries—What will his mouth open to next?”
“The Shaitan bacheh, for a son of the devil he still is, although he wears the turban and bows to Allah, will prove a treasury of amusement to your sublime highness,” replied Mustapha: “but what are the words of the sage?—‘If thou hast gold in thy hazneh, keep it locked, and add thereto; thus shalt thou become rich.’”
“They are the words of wisdom,” replied the pacha.
“Then may I advise your highness to walk out this evening in search of more, and not exhaust that which is in your possession?”
“Wallah thaib! It is well said!” answered the pacha, rising from his musnud or carpet of state: “the moon is up—when all is ready we will proceed.”
In a quarter of an hour the pacha, attended by Mustapha and the armed slaves as before, again set out upon their perambulations through the city of Cairo.
They had not walked more than half an hour when they observed two men sitting at the door of a fruit-shop, at high words with each other. The pacha held up his finger to Mustapha, as a sign to stop, that he might overhear their discourse.
“I tell you, Ali, that it is impossible to hear those long stories of yours without losing one’s temper.”
“Long stories!” whispered the pacha to Mustapha with delight: “the very thing!—Shukur Allah! Thanks be to God!”
“And I tell you in reply, Hussan, that yours are ten times worse. You never have spoken for ten minutes without my feeling an inclination to salute your mouth with the heel of my slipper. I wish there was any one who would hear us both, and decide the point.”
“That I will,” said the pacha, going up to them: “to-morrow I will hear both your stories, and decide upon the merits of each.”
“And who are you?” observed one of the men with surprise.
“His highness the pacha,” replied Mustapha, coming forward. Both the men prostrated themselves, while the pacha directed Mustapha that they should be brought before him on the following day; and the vizier, having given them in charge to the slaves who had followed at a distance, returned home with the pacha, who was delighted at the rich harvest which he expected to reap from the two people who accused each other of telling such long stories.
When the divan of the following day had closed, the two men were summoned into the presence of the pacha.
“I shall now decide upon the merits of your stories,” observed he. “Sit down there both of you, and agree between yourselves which of you will begin.”
“May it please your highness, you will never be able to listen to this man Ali,” observed Hussan: “you had better send him away.”
“Allah preserve your highness from all evil,” replied Ali, “but more especially from the talking of Hussan, which is as oppressive as the hot wind of the desert.”
“I have not sent for you to hear you dispute in my presence, but to hear your stories. Ali, do you begin.”
“I do assure your highness,” interrupted Hussan, “that you will not listen to him three minutes.”
“I do assure you,” retorted the pacha, “that if you say one word more, until you are ordered, you will be rewarded with the bastinado for your trouble. Ali, begin your story.”
“Well, your highness, it was about thirty years ago,you know, that I was a little boy,you know.”
Here Hussan lifted up his hands, and, smiled.
“Well your highness,you know—”
“I don’t know, Ali: how can I know until you tell me,” observed the pacha.
“Well then, your highness must know, that ever since I was born I have lived in the same street where your highness saw us seated last night, and thirty years,you know, is a long period in a man’s life. My father was a gardener, and people of his condition,you know, are obliged to get up early, that they may be in time for the market, where,you know, they bring their vegetables for sale.”
“This is all very true, I dare say,” observed the pacha, “but you will oblige me by leaving out all thoseyou knows, which I agree with your comrade Hussan to be very tedious.”
“That’s what I have already told him, your highness: ‘Ali,’says I, ‘if you can only leave out youryou knows,’says I, ‘your story might be amusing, but,’says I—”
“Silence with yoursays I’s,” observed the pacha; “have you forgotten the bastinado? there seems to be a pair of you. Ali, go on with the story, and remember my injunction; the felek and ferashes are at hand.”
“Well, your highness, one morning he rose earlier than usual, as he was anxious to be first in the market with some onions, which,you know, are very plentiful; and having laden his ass, he set off at a good round pace for the city. There,you know, he arrived at the market-place a little after the day had dawned, when,you know—”
“Did you not receive my orders to leave outyou know. Am I to be obeyed or not? Now go on, and if you offend again you shall have the bastinado till your nails drop off.”
“I shall observe your highness’s wishes,” replied Ali.—“A little after the day had dawned,you—no, he, I mean, observed an old woman sitting near one of the fruit-stalls, with her head covered up in an old dark-blue capote; and as he passed by,you—she, I mean, held out one of her fingers, and said, ‘Ali Baba,’ for that was my father’s name, ‘Listen to good advice; leave your laden beast and follow me.’ Now my father,you know, not being inclined to pay any attention to such an old woman, replied,you know—”
“Holy Allah!” exclaimed the pacha in a rage to Mustapha, “what does this man deserve?”
“The punishment due to those who dare to disobey your highness’s commands.”
“And he shall have it; take him out; give him one hundred blows of the bastinado; put him on an ass, with his face turned towards the tail; and let the officer who conducts him through the town proclaim, ‘Such is the punishment awarded by the pacha to him who presumes to say that his highness knows, when in fact, he knows nothing.’”
The guards seized upon the unfortunate Ali, to put in execution the will of the pacha; and as he was dragged away, Hussan cried out, “I told you so; but you would not believe me.”
“Well,” replied Ali, “I’ve one comfort, your story’s not told yet. His highness has yet to decide which is the best.”
After a few minutes’ pause, to recover himself from the ruffling of his temper, the pacha addressed the other man—“Now, Hussan, you will begin your story; and observe that I am rather in an ill-humour.”
“How can your highness be otherwise, after the annoyance of that bore Ali? I said so; ‘Ali,’says I—”
“Go on with your story,” repeated the pacha angrily.
“It was about two years ago, your highness, when I was sitting at the door of the fruit-shop, which your highness might have observed when you saw us last night, that a young female, who seemed above the common class, came in, followed by a porter. ‘I want some melons,’ says she. ‘I have very fine ones, so walk in,’says I, and I handed down from the upper shelf, where they were placed, four or five musk, and four or five water-melons.
“‘Now,’says I, ‘young woman, you’ll observe that these are much finer melons,’says I, ‘than you usually can procure; therefore the lowest price that I can take,’says I, ‘is—’”
“Why yoursays I’sare much worse than Ali’syou knows; leave them out, if you please, and proceed with your story,” cried the pacha, with increased ill-humour.
“I will obey, your highness, if possible. I stated the lowest price, and she lifted up her veil—‘I have an idea,’ said she, as she allowed me to look upon one of the prettiest faces in the world, ‘that they are to be had cheaper.’
“I was so struck with her beauty that I was quite speechless. ‘Am I not right?’ said she, smiling. ‘From you, madam,’says I, ‘I can take nothing; put as many in the basket of your porter as you please.’ She thanked me, and put into the basket all that I had handed down.
“‘Now,’says she, ‘I want some dates, the best and finest that you have.’ I handed some down, that would have been admired by the ladies of your highness’s harem. ‘These, madam,’says I, ‘are the best dates that are to be found in Cairo.’ She tasted them, and asked the price: I mentioned it. ‘They are dear,’ replied she, ‘but I must have them cheaper,’ and again she lifted her veil. ‘Madam,’says I, ‘these dates are much too cheap at the price which I have mentioned; it really is impossible to take one para less; observe, madam,’says I, ‘the beauty of them, feel the weight, and taste them,’says I, ‘and you must acknowledge,’says I, ‘that they are offered to you at a price which,’says I—”
“Holy Prophet!” cried the pacha in a rage; “I will hear no more of yoursays I’s: if you cannot tell your story without them, you shall fare worse than Ali.”
“May it please your highness, how will it be possible for you to know what I said, unless I point out to you what I did say? I cannot tell my story without it.”
“I’ll see that,” replied the pacha, in a savage tone; and making a sign, the executioner made his appearance. “Now, then, go on with your story; and, executioner, after he has repeatedsays Ithree times, off with his head! Go on.”
“I shall never be able to go on, your highness; consider one moment how harmless mysays I’sare to the detestableyou knowsof Ali. That’s what I always told him ‘Ali,’says I, ‘if you only knew,’says I, ‘how annoying you are! Why there,’says I—”
At this moment the blow of the scimitar fell, and the head of Hussan rolled upon the floor; the lips, from the force of habit, still quivering in their convulsions with the motioning which would have producedsays I, if the channel of sound had not been so effectually interrupted.
“That story’s ended!” observed the pacha in a rage. “Of all the nuisances I ever encountered, these two men have beat them all. Allah forbid that I should again meet with asays I, oryou know!”
“Your highness is all wisdom,” observed Mustapha; “may such ever be the fate of those who cannot tell their stories without saying what they said.” The pacha, irritated at his disappointment, and little soothed by the remark of Mustapha, without making any answer to it was about to retire to his harem, when Mustapha, with a low salaam, informed him that the renegade was in attendance to relate his Second Voyage, if he might be permitted to kiss the dust in his presence. “Khoda shefa midêhed—God gives relief,” replied the pacha, as he resumed his seat: “let him approach.”
The renegade entered; and having paid the customary obeisance, took his seat, and commenced the narrative of his Second Voyage:—
May it please your most sublime highness, the day after I embarked we sailed with a fair wind; and having cleared the Straits, flattered ourselves with the prospect of a successful voyage; but we were miserably disappointed, for three days afterwards we fell in with a small brig under English colours. As she was evidently a merchant vessel we paid no attention to her running down to us, supposing that she was out of her reckoning, and wished to know her exact position on the chart. But as soon as she was close to us, instead of passing under our stern, as we expected, she rounded to, and laid us by the board. Taken by surprise and having no arms, we were beaten down below; and in a few minutes the vessel remained in the possession of our assailants. They held a short consultation, and then opening the hatches, a boatswain pulled out his whistle, and in a tremendous voice roared out, “All hands ahoy!” which was followed by his crying out, “Tumble up there, tumble up!” As we understood this to be a signal for our appearance on deck, we obeyed the summons. When we all came up, we found out that if we had had any idea that they were enemies, we might have beaten them off, as they were only fifteen in number while we mustered sixteen. But it was too late: we were unarmed, and they had each of them a cutlass, with two pistols stuck in their girdles. As soon as we were all on deck, they bound our arms behind us with ropes and ranged us in a line. Having inquired of each of us our respective ranks and professions, they held a short consultation, and the boatswain addressing me, said: “Thank Heaven, you scoundrel, that you were brought up as a barber, for it has saved your life!”
He then cut loose the cords which bound me, and I remained at liberty. “Now then, my lads!” continued the boatswain, “Come, every man his bird!” and, so saying, he seized upon the captain of the vessel, and leading him to the gangway, passed his sword through his body, and tossed him into the sea.
In the same manner each of the murderous villains led forward the man he had selected, and putting an end to his life, either by the sword or pistol, launched the corpse into the waves.
My blood curdled as I beheld the scene, but I said nothing. I considered myself too fortunate to escape with life. When it was all over, the boatswain roared out, “That job’s done! Now, Mr Barber, swab up all this here blood, and be damned to you! and recollect that you are one of us.” I obeyed in fear and silence, and then returned to my former station near the taffrail.
The people who had captured us, as I afterwards found out, were part of the crew of an English Guinea-man, who had murdered the master and mate, and had taken possession of the vessel. As our brig was a much finer craft in every respect, they determined upon retaining her and scuttling their own. Before night they had made all their arrangements, and were standing to the westward with a fine breeze.
But exactly as the bell struck eight for midnight, a tremendous voice was heard at the hatchway, if possible more than a hunched times louder than the boatswain’s, roaring out “All hands ahoy!”
The concussion of the air was so great, that the ship trembled as if she had been struck by a thunderbolt; and as soon as the motion had subsided, the water was heard to rush into every part of the hold. Every body ran on deck astonished with the sound, expecting the vessel immediately to go down, and looking at each other with horror as they stood trembling in their shirts. The water continued to rush into the vessel until it reached the orlop beams; then as suddenly it stopped.
When the panic had to a certain degree subsided, and they perceived that the water did not increase, all hands applied to the pumps, and by eight o’clock in the morning the vessel was free. Still the unaccountable circumstance weighed heavy on the minds of the seamen, who walked the deck without speaking to each other, or paying any attention to the ship’s course; and as no one took the command, no one was ordered to the helm.
For my own part, I thought it a judgment upon them for their cruelty; and, expecting that worse would happen, I had made up my mind to my fate. I thought of Marie, and hoping for pardon yet fearing the worst, I vowed if I escaped that I would amend my life.
At night we again retired to our hammocks, but no one slept, so afraid were we of a second visitation. The bell was not struck by the men, but it struck itself, louder than I ever heard it before; and again the dreadful voice was heard, “All hands ahoy!” again the water rushed in, and again we ran on deck. As before, it mounted as high as the orlop beams; it then stopped, and was pumped out again by eight o’clock on the ensuing morning.
For a month, during which time we never saw land, for we had lost all reckoning, and no one cared to steer—the same dreadful visitation took place. Habit had, to a degree, hardened the men; they now swore and got drunk as before, and even made a jest of theboatswain of the middle watch, as they called him, but at the same time they were worn out with constant fatigue; and one night they declared that they would pump no longer. The water remained in the vessel all that day, and we retired to our hammocks as usual, when at midnight the same voice was again heard at the hatchway, not followed by the rush of water, but by a shriek of “Tumble up there, tumble up!”
We all started at the summons, and hastened on deck; there was something that impelled us in spite of ourselves. Never shall I forget the horrid sight which presented itself: stretched in a row on the deck of the vessel lay the fifteen bloody corpses of my shipmates who had been murdered. We stood aghast; the hair rose straight up from our heads, as we viewed the supernatural reappearances. After a pause of about five minutes, during which we never spoke or even moved, one of the corpses cried out in a sepulchral voice, “Come, every man his bird!” and held up its arms as it lay.
The man, whose office it had been to take the living body to the gangway, and after killing it to throw it overboard, advanced towards it; he was evidently impelled by a supernatural power, for never shall I forget the look of horror, the faint scream of agony, which escaped him as he obeyed the summons. Like the trembling bird fascinated by the snake, he fell into the arms of the dead body; which grasping him tight, rolled over and over in convolutions like a serpent, until it gained the break of the gangway, and then tumbled into the sea with its murderer entwined in its embraces. A flash of lightning succeeded, which blinded us for several minutes; and when we recovered our vision, the remainder of the bodies had disappeared.
The effect upon the guilty wretches was dreadful; there they lay, each man on the deck where he had crouched down, when the lightning had flashed upon him: the sun rose upon them, yet they moved not; he poured his beams on their naked bodies when at his meridian height, yet they still remained: the evening closed in, and found them in the same positions. As soon as it was dark, as if released from a spell, they crawled below, and went into their hammocks: at midnight again the bell struck; again the voice was heard, followed by the shriek; again they repaired on deck: the fourteen remaining bodies lay in a row: another of the murderers was summoned, obeyed, and disappeared: again the flash of lightning burst upon us, and all had vanished: and thus it continued every night, until the boatswain, who was reserved for the last, was dragged overboard after the rest by the corpse of the captain; and then a tremendous voice from the maintop, followed by exulting laughter, cried out, “That job’s done.” Immediately after which, the water rushed out of the bottom of the vessel, and she was clear as before.
Returning thanks to Heaven that I was not a party sufferer with the rest, I lay down, and for the first time for many weeks fell into a sound sleep. How long I slept, I know not: it may have been days; but I awoke at last by the sound of voices, and found that the people on board of a vessel bound from Mexico to the South of Spain, perceiving the brig lying with her sails torn, and her yards not trimmed, had sent a boat to ascertain whether there was any body remaining in her. I was afraid that if I told them what had happened, they either would not believe me, or else would refuse to take on board a person who had been in company with such examples of divine vengeance. I therefore stated that we had been attacked by dysentery about six weeks before, and all had died except myself, who was supercargo of the brig.
As their vessel was but half full, the cargo, consisting chiefly of cochineal and copper, which is stowed in small space, the captain offered to take as many of my goods as he could stow, provided I would allow him the freight. This I willingly consented to, and examining the manifest, selected the most valuable, which were removed to the Spanish vessel.
We had a favourable wind; and having run through the Straits, expected in a day or two we should anchor at Valencia, to which port she was bound; but a violent gale came on from the N.E., which lasted many days, and drove us over to the African shore. To increase our misfortunes, the ship sprung a-leak, and made so much water that we could scarcely keep her free.
The Spaniards are but indifferent sailors, your highness, and in a storm are more inclined to pray than to work: they became frightened, gave over pumping, and having lighted a candle before the image of St. Antonio, which was fixed on the stern of the vessel, began to call upon him for assistance. Not immediately obtaining their request, they took the image out of the shrine, abused it, called it every vile name that they could think of, and ended with tying it against the mainmast, and beating it with ropes.
In the mean time the vessel filled more and more; whereas, if instead of praying, they had continued at the pumps, we should have done well enough, as the gale was abating, and she did not make so much water as before.
Enraged at their cowardice, and at the idea of losing so much property as I had on board (for I considered it as my own,) I seized the image from the mast, and threw it overboard, telling them to go to their pumps if they wished to be saved. The whole crew uttered a cry of horror, and would have thrown me after the image, but I made my escape up the rigging, from whence I dared not descend for many hours.
Having now no saint to appeal to, they once more applied to the pumps. To their astonishment, the vessel made no more water, and in the course of a few hours she was free.
The next morning the gale was over, and we were steering for Valencia. I observed that the captain and sailors avoided me, but I cared little about it, as I felt that my conduct had saved the ship as well as my own property. On the second day we anchored in the bay, and were boarded by the authorities, who went down into the cabin, and had a long conversation with the captain. They quitted the ship, and about an hour afterwards I proposed going ashore, but the captain said that he could not permit it until the next morning. While I was expostulating with him as to the reasons for my detention, a boat rowed alongside, from out of which came two personages dressed in black. I knew them to be familiars of the Inquisition; and it immediately occurred to me that my personification of the lady abbess had been discovered, and that my doom was sealed. The captain pointed me out; they collared and handed me into the boat, and pulled for the shore in silence.
When we landed, I was put into a black coach, and conveyed to the palace of the Inquisition, where I was thrown into one of the lowest dungeons. The next day the familiars appeared, and led me to the hall of judgment, where I was asked whether I confessed my crime. I replied that I did not know what I was accused of. They again asked me if I would confess, and on my making the same answer I was ordered to the torture.
As I knew that I had no chance, I thought I might as well avoid unnecessary pain, and declared that I did confess it.
“What instigated you to the deed?”
Not well knowing what to reply, as I was not exactly aware of the nature of my offence, I answered that it was the blessed Virgin.
“Blasphemer!” cried the grand inquisitor, “what! the blessed Virgin desired you to throw St. Antonio overboard?”
“Yes,” replied I (glad that at all events the crime was not what I had anticipated), “she did; and told me that it would be the saving of the vessel.”
“Where were you?”
“On the deck.”
“Where did you see her?”
“She was sitting on a small blue cloud, a little above the topsail-yard. ‘Fear not, François,’ said she, motioning with her hand, ‘to throw the image overboard.’” The inquisitors were astonished at my boldness: a consultation was held, as to whether I should be treated as a blasphemer, or the circumstance blazoned into a miracle. But it unfortunately happened for me that a miracle had occurred very lately; and there were very few people to be burnt at theauto-da-féof the ensuing month.
It was therefore decided against me. I was reviled, abused, and sentenced to the flames; but I determined, as my only chance, to put a good face upon the matter to the very last. Looking up, as if to a point in the ceiling of the dark hall of judgment, and holding my hands before, as if in amazement—“Holy Virgin,” cried I, bending on my knee, “I thank thee for the sign. My Lord,” continued I fiercely, “I fear you not; you have sentenced me to perish by the flames; I tell you that I shall leave my dungeon with honour, and be as much courted as I have been now reviled.”
The inquisitors were for a moment staggered, but their surprise gave place to their cruelty, when they considered how long they had tortured thousands for doubting points to which they themselves had never for a moment given credence. I was remanded to my dungeon; and the gaoler, who had never before witnessed such boldness in the hall of justice, and was impressed with the conviction that I was supported as I had affirmed, treated me with kindness, affording me comforts, which, had it been known, would have cost him his situation.
In the meantime the cargo of the vessel was landed at the Custom-house, and she was hauled on shore to have her bottom caulked and pitched, when, to the astonishment of the captain and crew, the hole which had occasioned the leak was discovered with the head of the figure of the saint, which I had thrown overboard, so firmly wedged in, that it required some force to pull it out. “A miracle! a miracle!” was cried from the quays, and proclaimed through every part of the town. It was evident that the Virgin had instigated me to throw over the image, as the only means of stopping the leak. The friars of the nearest convent claimed the image from their propinquity, and came down to the ship in grand procession to carry it to their church. The grand inquisitor, hearing the circumstance, acknowledged to the bishop and heads of the clergy my intrepid behaviour in the hall of judgment: and not three hours after the ship had been hauled on shore, I was visited in my dungeon by the grand inquisitor, the bishop, and a long procession, my pardon requested, and the kiss of peace demanded and given. I was taken away with every mark of respect, and looked upon as one under special favour of the Virgin. “Did I not say, my lord, that I should leave my dungeon in honour?”
“You did, my friend,” answered the inquisitor: and I heard him mutter, “either there is such a person as the Virgin Mary, or you are a most ready-witted scoundrel.”
During my stay at Valencia, I was courted and feasted by every body, and sold my goods at an enormous price; for every one thought that to possess any thing that had belonged to me must bring them good fortune. I received many handsome presents, had divers requests to become a member of the different fraternities of monks, and eventually quitted the town with a large sum of money, with which I proceeded to Toulon, with the intention of making some inquiry after my dear Cerise, whose image was still the object of my dreams, as well as of my waking thoughts.
“Stop,” said the pacha; “I wish to know, whether you believe that the Virgin, as you call her, did thrust the head of the image into the hole in the bottom of the ship.”
“May it please your highness, I do not. I believe it originated from nothing but cause and effect. It is the nature of a whirlpool to draw down all substances that come within its vortex. The water pouring into the bottom of the ship is but the vortex of a whirlpool reversed; and the image of the saint, when it was thrown overboard to leeward of the ship, which was pressed down upon it by the power of the wind, was forced under the water, until it was taken into the vortex of the leak, and naturally found its way into the hole.”
“I dare say you are very right,” answered the pacha, “but I don’t understand a word you have said.”
“Such, your highness, were the adventures attending my Second Voyage,” concluded the renegade, with an inclination of his head.
“And a very good voyage too! I like it better than your first. Mustapha, give him ten pieces of gold: you will bring him here to-morrow, and we will hear what happened in his third.”
“You observe,” said Mustapha, when the pacha had retired, “my advice was good.”
“Most excellent!” replied the renegade, holding out his hand for the money: “To-morrow I’ll lie like any barber.”
Volume One--Chapter Seven.“Keoda shefa midêhed—God gives relief!” cried the pacha, as the divan closed: and, certainly, during its continuance many had been relieved of their worldly goods, and one or two from all future worldly thoughts or wanderings.—“What have we to-day, Mustapha?”“May your highness’s shadow never be less!” replied the vizier. “Have we not the slave who offered to lay his story at your sublime feet, on the same evening that we met those sons of Shitan—Ali and Hussan, who received the punishment merited by their enormous crimes? Have we not also the manuscript of the Spanish slave, now translated by my faithful Greek; who tells me that the words are flowing with honey, and their music is equal to that of the bulbul when singing to his favourite rose?”“And the Giaour who relates his voyages and travels,” interrupted the pacha—“where is he? No kessehgou of our own race tells stories like unto his.”“The Giaour is on the waters, your highness. He is a veryrustamon board of a ship, and brings wealth to thehaznehof your sublime highness. He consulted the astrologers, and the stars were propitious. To-morrow I expect he will return.”“Well, then, we must content ourselves with what is offered. Let the slave approach, and we will listen to his story, since we cannot have the wonderful tales of Huckaback.”“Whose dog was Lokman, to be compared to your sublime highness in wisdom?” replied Mustapha. “What are the words of Hafiz—‘Every moment that you enjoy, count it gain. Who shall say what will be the event of any thing?’”The slave, who had been detained by the orders of Mustapha, was ordered to appear. During his confinement, Mustapha had been informed by his people that he was “visited by Alla;” or in other words, that he was a madman. Nevertheless, Mustapha—who was afraid to release a man (or rather, a story) without the consent of the pacha, and could not send for the renegade to supply any defalcation—considered that, upon the whole, it was better that he should be admitted to the presence of the pacha.“You asked me to hear your story,” observed the pacha, “and I have consented,—not to please you, but to please myself, because I am fond of a good story: which I take it for granted yours will be, or you would not have presumed to make the request. Now you may go on.”“Pacha,” replied the slave, who had seated himself in a corner, working his body backward and forward, “it is the misfortune of those who not aware—of the excitement which—as I before stated to your highness exceeds in altitude the lofty and snow-covered peak of Hebrus—and, nevertheless, cannot be worth more than four or five paras—”“Holy Prophet! what is all this?” interrupted the pacha; “I cannot understand a word that you say. Do you laugh at our beard? Speak more intelligibly. Remember!”“I remember it as if it were now,” continued the maniac, “although years have rolled away. Never will it be effaced from my recollection while this heart, broken as it is, continues to beat, or this brain may be permitted to burn. The sun had just disappeared behind the rugged summits of the mountain which sheltered my abode from the unkind north-east wind: the leaves of the vines that hung in festoons on the trellis before my cottage, which, but a minute before, pierced by his glorious rays, had appeared so brilliant and transparent, had now assumed a browner shade, and, as far as the eye could reach, a thin blue vapour was descending the ravine: the distant sea had changed its intense blue for a sombre grey, while the surf rolled sullenly to the beach, as if in discontent that it could no longer reflect the colours of the prism as before, when it seemed to dance, with joy under the brilliant illumination of the god of day—”“Poof!” ejaculated the pacha, fanning himself.“My boat was on the beach; my eyes were fixed upon it, in happy vacancy, until the shades of night prevented my discerning the nets which were spread upon its gunnel. I turned round at the soft voice of my Etana, who was seated near me with her infant in her arms, and watching the little one’s impatience, as it would demand a more rapid flow of milk from that snowy breast, and the fond smile of the delighted mother, as she bent over the first dear pledge of our affection. I felt happy—almost too happy: I had all I wished—yes I had,”—and the maniac paused and smote his forehead, “but it is past now.”After a second or two he resumed—“For my part it has always been my opinion that when the wind backs to the south-east, the fish repair to the deep water; and if you will be careful when you gather the grapes not to throw in the stalks, that the wine will, as I before stated to your highness, only increase the extreme difficulty of ascertaining how far a man could conscientiously demand, that is to say, in proportion to the degree of intellect, stated at different intervals, and extending down the crags of the whole ravine.”“I cannot, positively, understand a word of all this!” exclaimed the pacha, with irritation; “can you, Mustapha?”“How is it possible for your slave to comprehend that which is concealed from the wisdom of your highness?”“Very true,” replied the pacha.“Your highness will understand it all by-and-bye,” observed the maniac; “but it will be necessary that you wait until I have finished the story, when it will all reel off like a skein of silk, which at present but appears to be ravelled.”“Well then,” replied the pacha, “I wish you would begin at the end of your story, and finish with the beginning. Now go on.”“There is nought under Heaven so interesting—so graceful—so pleasing to contemplate as a young mother with her first-born at her breast. The soft lisps and caresses of childhood—the expanding graces of the budding maiden—the blushing, smiling yet trembling bride, all lose in the comparison with woman in her beauty, fulfilling her destiny on earth; her countenance radiating with those intense feelings of delight, which more than repay her for her previous hours of sorrow and of anguish. But I’m afraid I tire your highness.”“Wallah el Nebi!—by God and his Prophet, you do indeed. Is it all to be like that?”“No! pacha. I wish to Heaven that it had been. Merciful God!—why didst thou permit the blow? Was not I grateful?—Were not my eyes suffused with tears, springing from gratitude and love, at the very moment when they rushed in—when their murdering weapons were pointed to my breast—when the mother shrieked as they tore away the infant as a useless incumbrance and dashed it to the ground—when I caught it up, and the pistol of the savage Turk put an end to its existence? I see it now, as I kissed the little ruby fountain which bubbled from its heart: I see her too, as they bore her away senseless in their arms. Pacha, in one short minute I was bereft of all—wife, child, home, liberty, and reason; and here I am, a madman and a slave!”The maniac paused: then starting upon his feet, he commenced in a loud voice:— “But I know who they were—I know them all, and I know where she is too: and now, pacha, you shall do me justice. This is he who stole my wife; this is he who murdered my child; this is he who keeps her from my arms: and thus I beard him in your presence;” and as he finished his exclamations, he sprang upon the terrified Mustapha, seizing him by the beard with one hand, while, with the other, he beat his turban about his head.The guards rushed in, and rescued the vizier from the awkward position in which he was placed by his own imprudence, in permitting the man to appear at the divan.The rage of the pacha was excessive; and the head of the maniac would have been separated from his body, had it not been for the prudence of Mustapha, who was aware that the common people consider idiots and madmen to be under the special protection of Heaven, and that such an act would be sufficient to create an insurrection. At his intercession, the man was taken away by the guards, and not released until he was a considerable distance from the palace.“Allah karim!—God is merciful!” exclaimed the pacha as soon as the maniac had been carried away. “I’m glad that he did not think it was me who had his wife.”“Allah forbid that your highness should have been so treated. He has almost ruined the beard of your slave,” replied the vizier, adjusting the folds of his turban.“Mustapha, make a memorandum never again to accept an offer. I’m convinced that a volunteer story is worth nothing.”“Your highness speaks the truth—no man parts readily with what is worth retaining—gold is not kicked up with the sandal, nor diamonds to be found glittering in the rays of the sun. If we would obtain them, we must search and labour in the dark mine.—Will your highness be pleased to hear the manuscript which had been translated by the Greek slave?”“Be it so,” replied the pacha, not in the very best of humours.The Greek made his appearance and made his salutation, and then read as follows:—Manuscript of the Monk.Recording the Discovery of the Island of Madeira.Before I am summoned to that offended tribunal, to propitiate which I have passed so many years in penitence and prayer, let me record for the benefit of others the history of one, who, yielding to fatal passion, embittered the remainder of his own days, and shortened those of the adored partner of his guilt. Let my confession be public, that warning may be taken from my example; and may the sincerity with which I acknowledge my offence, and the tears which I have shed, efface it from the accumulated records of the willfulness and disobedience of man!In a few days this attenuated frame will be mingled with the dust from which it sprung, and scattered by the winds of heaven, or by the labour of future generations, as chance may dictate, will yield sustenance to the thistle which wars against the fertility of nature, or the grain which is the support of our existence,—to the nightshade with its deadly fruit, or the creeping violet with its sweet perfume. The heart which has throbbed so tumultuously with the extreme of love, and which has been riven with the excess of woe, will shortly pant no more. The mind which has been borne down by the irresistible force of passion,—which has attempted to stem the torrent, but in vain, and, since the rage of it has passed away, has been left like the once fertile valley which has been overflown, a waste of barrenness and desolation,—will shortly cease from its wearied action. In a few brief days I must appear in the presence of an offended, yet merciful Saviour, who, offering every timing, weeps at the insanity of our rejection. Let then the confessions of Henrique serve as a beacon to those who are inclined to yield to the first impulse; when, alarmed at the discovery of their errors, they will find that conviction has arrived too late, and that, like me, they will be irresistibly impelled against the struggles of reason and of conscience.I am an Englishman by birth: my parents were called away before I was five years old; yet still I have a dreaming memory of my mother—a faint recollection of one at whose knees I used, each night, to hold up my little hands in orison, and who blessed her child as she laid him to repose.But I lost those whose precepts might have been valuable to me in after-life, and was left to the guardianship of one who thought that, in attending to my worldly interests, he fulfilled the whole duty which was required of him. My education was not neglected, but there was no one to advise me upon points of more serious importance. Naturally of a fiery and impatient temper,—endued with a perseverance which was only increased by the obstacles which presented themselves, I encouraged any feeling to be working in my mind in preference to repose, which was hateful. To such excess did it arrive as I grew up, that difficulty and danger, even pain and remorse, were preferable to that calm sunshine of the breast which others consider so enviable. I could exist but by strong sensations: remove them, and I felt as does the habitual drunkard in the morning, until his nerves have been again stimulated by a repetition of his draughts. My pursuits were of the same tendency: constant variety and change of scene were what I coveted. I felt a desire “to be imprisoned in the viewless winds, and blown with restless violence about the pendent world.” At night I was happy; for as soon as sleep had sealed my eyes, I invariably dreamt that I had the power of aërostation, and, in my imagination, cleaved through the air with the strength of an eagle, soaring above my fellow-creatures, and looking down upon them and their ceaseless drudgery with contempt.To a mind thus constituted by nature, and unchecked by counsel, it is not surprising that the darling wish and constant idea was to roam the world; and the vast ocean, which offered to me the means of gratifying my passion, was an object of love and adoration. If I had not the wings of the eagle with which fancy had supplied me in my dreams, still I could fly before the wings of the wind, and, as in my aërial excursions when asleep, leave no track behind. As soon as I had arrived at the age which allowed me to take possession of my property, I sought the element so congenial to my disposition. For some years I continued the profession, and was fortunate in my speculations; but I cared little for gain; my delight was in roving from clime to clime, flying before the gale,—in looking with defiance at the vast mountainous seas which threatened to overwhelm me,—in the roaring of the wind,—in the mad raging of the surf,—in the excitement of battle, even in the destruction and disasters of the wreck.It may be a source of astonishment that I arrived at the age of thirty without ever feeling the sensation of love; but so it was. This most powerful of excitements, which was so to influence my future existence, had not yet been called into action: but it was roused at last, and like the hurricane, swept every thing before it in ruin and desolation. I was at Cadiz, where I had arrived with a valuable cargo, when it was proposed that I should witness the ceremony of taking the White Veil. As the young woman who professed was of a noble family, and the solemnity was to be conducted with the greatest splendour, I consented. The magnificent decorations of the church, the harmony of the singing, the solemn pealing of the organ, the splendid robes of the priests in contrast with the sombre humility of the friars and nuns, the tossing of the censers, the ascending clouds of frankincense, and, above all, the extreme beauty of the fair devotee,—produced feelings of interest which I had not imagined could have been raised from any description of pageantry. When the ceremony was over, I quitted the church with new and powerful sensations, which at the time I could not precisely analyse. But when I lay down on my couch, I perceived that, although the splendour of the rites were but faint in my recollection, the image of the sweet girl kneeling before the altar was engraven on my heart. I felt an uneasiness, a restlessness, a vacuum in my bosom, which, like that in the atmosphere, is the forerunner of the tempest. I could not sleep; but, tossing from one side to the other during the whole night, rose the next morning feverish and unrefreshed.Following, as usual, the impulse of my feelings, I repaired to her relative, who had taken me to witness the ceremony, and persuaded him to introduce me at the wicket of the convent.As she had yet one year of probation previous to her taking the final vows, which were for ever to seclude her from the world, in seeing her there was no difficulty. Her duteous resignation to the will of her parents, her serene and beautiful countenance, her angelic smile,—all contributed to the increase of my passion; and, after an hour’s conversation, I left her with my heart in a state of tumult, of which it is not easy to express the idea. My visits were repeated again and again. In a short time I declared my sentiments, and found that I was listened to without offending. Before I quitted Cadiz which my engagements rendered imperative, I obtained from her a reciprocal acknowledgment. And as there were still nine months to pass away previous to her decision upon a monastic life, before that period had elapsed I faithfully promised to return and claim her as my own. As we professed the same faith, and she had only been sacrificed that the possessions of her brother might not be diminished by the fortune which her marriage would require, I did not anticipate any objections from her parents. I required no dower, having more than sufficient to supply her with every luxury. We parted: our hands trembled as we locked our fingers through the grating; our tears fell, but could not be mingled; our lips quivered, but could not meet; our hearts were beating with excess of love but I could not strain her in my embrace. “In three months more, Rosina!” exclaimed I, as I walked backward from the grating, my eyes still fixed upon her. “Till then farewell, Henrique! Relying upon your faith and honour, I shall not hesitate to cherish your dear image in my heart;” and, overcome by her feelings, Rosina burst into tears and hurried from my sight.I sailed with prosperous gales, and arrived safely at my own country. My ventures were disposed of, I realised a large sum of money, had completed all my arrangements, and in a few days intended to return to Cadiz to fulfil my engagement with Rosina. I was in the metropolis impatiently waiting for the remainder of the freight, to be put on board of the vessel in which I had taken my passage, when one evening as I was sauntering in the park, anticipating the bliss of rejoining the object of my affection, I was rudely pushed aside by a personage richly attired, who was escorting two of the ladies of the court. Fired at the insult, and as usual acting upon the first impulse, I struck him in the face and drew my sword—forgetting at the time that I was in the precincts of the palace. I was seized and imprisoned: my offence was capital; my adversary a relation of the king’s. I offered a large sum for my release; but when they found out that I was wealthy, they rejected as I increased my offers, until I was compelled to sacrifice one half of my worldly possessions to escape from the severity of the Star Chamber. But the loss of property was nothing; I had still more than enough: it was the dreadful length of my confinement, during which anxiety had swelled hours into days, and days into months of torture and suspense. I had been incarcerated more than a year before I could obtain my release. When in my imagination I conjured up Rosina—lamenting my infidelity, reproaching me in her solitude for my broken vows, and (there was madness in the very thought) yielding in her resentment and her grief to the solicitations of her parents, and taking the veil,—I was frantic; I tore my hair, beat the walls of my prison, raved for liberty, and offered to surrender up every shilling that I possessed.“By the beard of the Prophet this tires me,” exclaimed the pacha. “Murakhas, you are dismissed.”The Greek slave bowed, and retired.End of the First Volume.
“Keoda shefa midêhed—God gives relief!” cried the pacha, as the divan closed: and, certainly, during its continuance many had been relieved of their worldly goods, and one or two from all future worldly thoughts or wanderings.—“What have we to-day, Mustapha?”
“May your highness’s shadow never be less!” replied the vizier. “Have we not the slave who offered to lay his story at your sublime feet, on the same evening that we met those sons of Shitan—Ali and Hussan, who received the punishment merited by their enormous crimes? Have we not also the manuscript of the Spanish slave, now translated by my faithful Greek; who tells me that the words are flowing with honey, and their music is equal to that of the bulbul when singing to his favourite rose?”
“And the Giaour who relates his voyages and travels,” interrupted the pacha—“where is he? No kessehgou of our own race tells stories like unto his.”
“The Giaour is on the waters, your highness. He is a veryrustamon board of a ship, and brings wealth to thehaznehof your sublime highness. He consulted the astrologers, and the stars were propitious. To-morrow I expect he will return.”
“Well, then, we must content ourselves with what is offered. Let the slave approach, and we will listen to his story, since we cannot have the wonderful tales of Huckaback.”
“Whose dog was Lokman, to be compared to your sublime highness in wisdom?” replied Mustapha. “What are the words of Hafiz—‘Every moment that you enjoy, count it gain. Who shall say what will be the event of any thing?’”
The slave, who had been detained by the orders of Mustapha, was ordered to appear. During his confinement, Mustapha had been informed by his people that he was “visited by Alla;” or in other words, that he was a madman. Nevertheless, Mustapha—who was afraid to release a man (or rather, a story) without the consent of the pacha, and could not send for the renegade to supply any defalcation—considered that, upon the whole, it was better that he should be admitted to the presence of the pacha.
“You asked me to hear your story,” observed the pacha, “and I have consented,—not to please you, but to please myself, because I am fond of a good story: which I take it for granted yours will be, or you would not have presumed to make the request. Now you may go on.”
“Pacha,” replied the slave, who had seated himself in a corner, working his body backward and forward, “it is the misfortune of those who not aware—of the excitement which—as I before stated to your highness exceeds in altitude the lofty and snow-covered peak of Hebrus—and, nevertheless, cannot be worth more than four or five paras—”
“Holy Prophet! what is all this?” interrupted the pacha; “I cannot understand a word that you say. Do you laugh at our beard? Speak more intelligibly. Remember!”
“I remember it as if it were now,” continued the maniac, “although years have rolled away. Never will it be effaced from my recollection while this heart, broken as it is, continues to beat, or this brain may be permitted to burn. The sun had just disappeared behind the rugged summits of the mountain which sheltered my abode from the unkind north-east wind: the leaves of the vines that hung in festoons on the trellis before my cottage, which, but a minute before, pierced by his glorious rays, had appeared so brilliant and transparent, had now assumed a browner shade, and, as far as the eye could reach, a thin blue vapour was descending the ravine: the distant sea had changed its intense blue for a sombre grey, while the surf rolled sullenly to the beach, as if in discontent that it could no longer reflect the colours of the prism as before, when it seemed to dance, with joy under the brilliant illumination of the god of day—”
“Poof!” ejaculated the pacha, fanning himself.
“My boat was on the beach; my eyes were fixed upon it, in happy vacancy, until the shades of night prevented my discerning the nets which were spread upon its gunnel. I turned round at the soft voice of my Etana, who was seated near me with her infant in her arms, and watching the little one’s impatience, as it would demand a more rapid flow of milk from that snowy breast, and the fond smile of the delighted mother, as she bent over the first dear pledge of our affection. I felt happy—almost too happy: I had all I wished—yes I had,”—and the maniac paused and smote his forehead, “but it is past now.”
After a second or two he resumed—
“For my part it has always been my opinion that when the wind backs to the south-east, the fish repair to the deep water; and if you will be careful when you gather the grapes not to throw in the stalks, that the wine will, as I before stated to your highness, only increase the extreme difficulty of ascertaining how far a man could conscientiously demand, that is to say, in proportion to the degree of intellect, stated at different intervals, and extending down the crags of the whole ravine.”
“I cannot, positively, understand a word of all this!” exclaimed the pacha, with irritation; “can you, Mustapha?”
“How is it possible for your slave to comprehend that which is concealed from the wisdom of your highness?”
“Very true,” replied the pacha.
“Your highness will understand it all by-and-bye,” observed the maniac; “but it will be necessary that you wait until I have finished the story, when it will all reel off like a skein of silk, which at present but appears to be ravelled.”
“Well then,” replied the pacha, “I wish you would begin at the end of your story, and finish with the beginning. Now go on.”
“There is nought under Heaven so interesting—so graceful—so pleasing to contemplate as a young mother with her first-born at her breast. The soft lisps and caresses of childhood—the expanding graces of the budding maiden—the blushing, smiling yet trembling bride, all lose in the comparison with woman in her beauty, fulfilling her destiny on earth; her countenance radiating with those intense feelings of delight, which more than repay her for her previous hours of sorrow and of anguish. But I’m afraid I tire your highness.”
“Wallah el Nebi!—by God and his Prophet, you do indeed. Is it all to be like that?”
“No! pacha. I wish to Heaven that it had been. Merciful God!—why didst thou permit the blow? Was not I grateful?—Were not my eyes suffused with tears, springing from gratitude and love, at the very moment when they rushed in—when their murdering weapons were pointed to my breast—when the mother shrieked as they tore away the infant as a useless incumbrance and dashed it to the ground—when I caught it up, and the pistol of the savage Turk put an end to its existence? I see it now, as I kissed the little ruby fountain which bubbled from its heart: I see her too, as they bore her away senseless in their arms. Pacha, in one short minute I was bereft of all—wife, child, home, liberty, and reason; and here I am, a madman and a slave!”
The maniac paused: then starting upon his feet, he commenced in a loud voice:— “But I know who they were—I know them all, and I know where she is too: and now, pacha, you shall do me justice. This is he who stole my wife; this is he who murdered my child; this is he who keeps her from my arms: and thus I beard him in your presence;” and as he finished his exclamations, he sprang upon the terrified Mustapha, seizing him by the beard with one hand, while, with the other, he beat his turban about his head.
The guards rushed in, and rescued the vizier from the awkward position in which he was placed by his own imprudence, in permitting the man to appear at the divan.
The rage of the pacha was excessive; and the head of the maniac would have been separated from his body, had it not been for the prudence of Mustapha, who was aware that the common people consider idiots and madmen to be under the special protection of Heaven, and that such an act would be sufficient to create an insurrection. At his intercession, the man was taken away by the guards, and not released until he was a considerable distance from the palace.
“Allah karim!—God is merciful!” exclaimed the pacha as soon as the maniac had been carried away. “I’m glad that he did not think it was me who had his wife.”
“Allah forbid that your highness should have been so treated. He has almost ruined the beard of your slave,” replied the vizier, adjusting the folds of his turban.
“Mustapha, make a memorandum never again to accept an offer. I’m convinced that a volunteer story is worth nothing.”
“Your highness speaks the truth—no man parts readily with what is worth retaining—gold is not kicked up with the sandal, nor diamonds to be found glittering in the rays of the sun. If we would obtain them, we must search and labour in the dark mine.—Will your highness be pleased to hear the manuscript which had been translated by the Greek slave?”
“Be it so,” replied the pacha, not in the very best of humours.
The Greek made his appearance and made his salutation, and then read as follows:—
Recording the Discovery of the Island of Madeira.
Before I am summoned to that offended tribunal, to propitiate which I have passed so many years in penitence and prayer, let me record for the benefit of others the history of one, who, yielding to fatal passion, embittered the remainder of his own days, and shortened those of the adored partner of his guilt. Let my confession be public, that warning may be taken from my example; and may the sincerity with which I acknowledge my offence, and the tears which I have shed, efface it from the accumulated records of the willfulness and disobedience of man!
In a few days this attenuated frame will be mingled with the dust from which it sprung, and scattered by the winds of heaven, or by the labour of future generations, as chance may dictate, will yield sustenance to the thistle which wars against the fertility of nature, or the grain which is the support of our existence,—to the nightshade with its deadly fruit, or the creeping violet with its sweet perfume. The heart which has throbbed so tumultuously with the extreme of love, and which has been riven with the excess of woe, will shortly pant no more. The mind which has been borne down by the irresistible force of passion,—which has attempted to stem the torrent, but in vain, and, since the rage of it has passed away, has been left like the once fertile valley which has been overflown, a waste of barrenness and desolation,—will shortly cease from its wearied action. In a few brief days I must appear in the presence of an offended, yet merciful Saviour, who, offering every timing, weeps at the insanity of our rejection. Let then the confessions of Henrique serve as a beacon to those who are inclined to yield to the first impulse; when, alarmed at the discovery of their errors, they will find that conviction has arrived too late, and that, like me, they will be irresistibly impelled against the struggles of reason and of conscience.
I am an Englishman by birth: my parents were called away before I was five years old; yet still I have a dreaming memory of my mother—a faint recollection of one at whose knees I used, each night, to hold up my little hands in orison, and who blessed her child as she laid him to repose.
But I lost those whose precepts might have been valuable to me in after-life, and was left to the guardianship of one who thought that, in attending to my worldly interests, he fulfilled the whole duty which was required of him. My education was not neglected, but there was no one to advise me upon points of more serious importance. Naturally of a fiery and impatient temper,—endued with a perseverance which was only increased by the obstacles which presented themselves, I encouraged any feeling to be working in my mind in preference to repose, which was hateful. To such excess did it arrive as I grew up, that difficulty and danger, even pain and remorse, were preferable to that calm sunshine of the breast which others consider so enviable. I could exist but by strong sensations: remove them, and I felt as does the habitual drunkard in the morning, until his nerves have been again stimulated by a repetition of his draughts. My pursuits were of the same tendency: constant variety and change of scene were what I coveted. I felt a desire “to be imprisoned in the viewless winds, and blown with restless violence about the pendent world.” At night I was happy; for as soon as sleep had sealed my eyes, I invariably dreamt that I had the power of aërostation, and, in my imagination, cleaved through the air with the strength of an eagle, soaring above my fellow-creatures, and looking down upon them and their ceaseless drudgery with contempt.
To a mind thus constituted by nature, and unchecked by counsel, it is not surprising that the darling wish and constant idea was to roam the world; and the vast ocean, which offered to me the means of gratifying my passion, was an object of love and adoration. If I had not the wings of the eagle with which fancy had supplied me in my dreams, still I could fly before the wings of the wind, and, as in my aërial excursions when asleep, leave no track behind. As soon as I had arrived at the age which allowed me to take possession of my property, I sought the element so congenial to my disposition. For some years I continued the profession, and was fortunate in my speculations; but I cared little for gain; my delight was in roving from clime to clime, flying before the gale,—in looking with defiance at the vast mountainous seas which threatened to overwhelm me,—in the roaring of the wind,—in the mad raging of the surf,—in the excitement of battle, even in the destruction and disasters of the wreck.
It may be a source of astonishment that I arrived at the age of thirty without ever feeling the sensation of love; but so it was. This most powerful of excitements, which was so to influence my future existence, had not yet been called into action: but it was roused at last, and like the hurricane, swept every thing before it in ruin and desolation. I was at Cadiz, where I had arrived with a valuable cargo, when it was proposed that I should witness the ceremony of taking the White Veil. As the young woman who professed was of a noble family, and the solemnity was to be conducted with the greatest splendour, I consented. The magnificent decorations of the church, the harmony of the singing, the solemn pealing of the organ, the splendid robes of the priests in contrast with the sombre humility of the friars and nuns, the tossing of the censers, the ascending clouds of frankincense, and, above all, the extreme beauty of the fair devotee,—produced feelings of interest which I had not imagined could have been raised from any description of pageantry. When the ceremony was over, I quitted the church with new and powerful sensations, which at the time I could not precisely analyse. But when I lay down on my couch, I perceived that, although the splendour of the rites were but faint in my recollection, the image of the sweet girl kneeling before the altar was engraven on my heart. I felt an uneasiness, a restlessness, a vacuum in my bosom, which, like that in the atmosphere, is the forerunner of the tempest. I could not sleep; but, tossing from one side to the other during the whole night, rose the next morning feverish and unrefreshed.
Following, as usual, the impulse of my feelings, I repaired to her relative, who had taken me to witness the ceremony, and persuaded him to introduce me at the wicket of the convent.
As she had yet one year of probation previous to her taking the final vows, which were for ever to seclude her from the world, in seeing her there was no difficulty. Her duteous resignation to the will of her parents, her serene and beautiful countenance, her angelic smile,—all contributed to the increase of my passion; and, after an hour’s conversation, I left her with my heart in a state of tumult, of which it is not easy to express the idea. My visits were repeated again and again. In a short time I declared my sentiments, and found that I was listened to without offending. Before I quitted Cadiz which my engagements rendered imperative, I obtained from her a reciprocal acknowledgment. And as there were still nine months to pass away previous to her decision upon a monastic life, before that period had elapsed I faithfully promised to return and claim her as my own. As we professed the same faith, and she had only been sacrificed that the possessions of her brother might not be diminished by the fortune which her marriage would require, I did not anticipate any objections from her parents. I required no dower, having more than sufficient to supply her with every luxury. We parted: our hands trembled as we locked our fingers through the grating; our tears fell, but could not be mingled; our lips quivered, but could not meet; our hearts were beating with excess of love but I could not strain her in my embrace. “In three months more, Rosina!” exclaimed I, as I walked backward from the grating, my eyes still fixed upon her. “Till then farewell, Henrique! Relying upon your faith and honour, I shall not hesitate to cherish your dear image in my heart;” and, overcome by her feelings, Rosina burst into tears and hurried from my sight.
I sailed with prosperous gales, and arrived safely at my own country. My ventures were disposed of, I realised a large sum of money, had completed all my arrangements, and in a few days intended to return to Cadiz to fulfil my engagement with Rosina. I was in the metropolis impatiently waiting for the remainder of the freight, to be put on board of the vessel in which I had taken my passage, when one evening as I was sauntering in the park, anticipating the bliss of rejoining the object of my affection, I was rudely pushed aside by a personage richly attired, who was escorting two of the ladies of the court. Fired at the insult, and as usual acting upon the first impulse, I struck him in the face and drew my sword—forgetting at the time that I was in the precincts of the palace. I was seized and imprisoned: my offence was capital; my adversary a relation of the king’s. I offered a large sum for my release; but when they found out that I was wealthy, they rejected as I increased my offers, until I was compelled to sacrifice one half of my worldly possessions to escape from the severity of the Star Chamber. But the loss of property was nothing; I had still more than enough: it was the dreadful length of my confinement, during which anxiety had swelled hours into days, and days into months of torture and suspense. I had been incarcerated more than a year before I could obtain my release. When in my imagination I conjured up Rosina—lamenting my infidelity, reproaching me in her solitude for my broken vows, and (there was madness in the very thought) yielding in her resentment and her grief to the solicitations of her parents, and taking the veil,—I was frantic; I tore my hair, beat the walls of my prison, raved for liberty, and offered to surrender up every shilling that I possessed.
“By the beard of the Prophet this tires me,” exclaimed the pacha. “Murakhas, you are dismissed.”
The Greek slave bowed, and retired.
Volume Two--Chapter One.The next morning the pacha observed to Mustapha, “I have been thinking whether, as we have no story, it would not be as well to let the Greek finish the story of yesterday evening.”“True, O pacha,” replied Mustapha, “better is hard fare than no food—if we cannot indulge in the pillau, we must content ourselves with boiled rice.”“It is well said, Mustapha, so let him proceed.”The Greek slave was then ordered in, and re-commenced as follows:—Freedom was obtained at last; I flew to the sea-coast, chartered a small vessel, and chiding the winds as we scudded along, because they would not blow with a force equal to my impetuous desires, arrived at Cadiz. It was late in the evening when I disembarked and repaired to the convent; so exhausted was I by contending hopes and fears, that it was with difficulty I could support my own weight. I tottered to the wicket, and demanded my Rosina.“Are you a near relation,” inquired the portress, “that you request the presence of a sister?” Her interrogation decided the point; Rosina had taken the veil, had abjured the world and me for ever. My brain reeled, and I fell senseless on the pavement. Alarmed at the circumstance, the portress ran to the Lady Abbess, informing her that a person had asked for sister Rosina, and, receiving her answer, had fallen senseless at the wicket. Rosina was present at the narration; her heart told her who it was; also told her that I had not been faithless. Joy at my fidelity, and grief at her own precipitancy, which rendered it unavailing, overpowered her, and she was led to her cell in a state as pitiable as mine.When I recovered my senses, I found myself in bed. I had been there for weeks in a state of mental alienation. With reason and memory, misery returned; but I was no longer in the frenzy of excitement; my mind was as exhausted as my body, and I felt a species of calm despair. Convinced that all was lost, that an insuperable bar was placed between Rosina and me, I reasoned myself into a kind of philosophy; and resolved, as soon as I could recover my strength, to fly from a place which had been the scene of so much anticipated happiness, and of so much real woe.One desire still remained; it was to see Rosina previous to my departure, that I might explain the cause of my delay. Conviction told me that it was wrong; but the impulse I could not resist: had I not yielded to it, I should have been unfortunate, but not guilty.I wrote to her upbraiding her for her precipitation, and imploring a final interview. Her answer was affecting—it brought showers of tears from my eyes, and again inflamed my love. The interview was refused, as it could be productive of no benefit, and would only call forth feelings in opposition to her duty; but it was so kindly, so gently negatived, that it was evident her inclination was at variance with her pen; and on my repeating the request, as a proof that her affection had been sincere, she unwillingly acceded.We met—for our misery—for our guilt, we met.—From that moment, I resolved never to abandon her—religion, virtue, morality, every feeling was borne away by the re-appearance of the object of my adoration; and before the interview was over, I again dared to breathe vows of fidelity to one who had devoted herself to God. “This cannot be, Henrique,” said Rosina; “we must meet no more: reflect, and you will be convinced of its impropriety. No dispensation from the vow will be permitted by my parents—all hopes of union in this world are over—Oh! may we meet in heaven!” and she clasped her hands in anguish as she disappeared.I returned home, every pulse beating to madness. Again I addressed her, imploring another meeting; but received a firm denial. So far from being baffled at this addition to the obstacles which presented themselves, it but increased my determination to surmount them. To overcome her duty to her parents, to induce her to trample on her vows to God, to defy the torments of the Inquisition, to release her from bolts and bars, to escape from a fortified and crowded city—each and every difficulty but inflamed my ardour—every appeal of conscience but added to my wilful determination.Although hitherto I had abhorred deceit, my first act was one of duplicity. I wrote to her, stating that I had been permitted an interview with her friends, and had made known to them what had passed; that they had listened to me, and were disposed to yield; and although it was kept a secret from her, in a few months her vows would be dispensed with.How cruel—how selfish was my conduct! but it answered my intention. Buoyed up with the prospect of future happiness, Rosina no longer struggled against the fatal passion—no longer refused to see me, and listen to my vows of eternal fidelity. Deeper and deeper did she drink of the intoxicating draught, until it had effaced from her mind, as it had already done from mine, every other sensation than that of love. Although I could have kissed the ground which she trod upon, and have suffered the torments of a martyr for her sake, it was with the pleasure of a demon that I witnessed my success, and hailed her falling off from religion and from virtue.Six months had passed away, during which, by bribes to the portress, and the yielding of my mistress, I had contrived to obtain admittance by night into the convent garden. One evening I informed her that her parents, menaced by their confessor, had rescinded their promise to me, and had decided upon not obtaining her dispensation. Every thing had been prepared, that she might have no time for reflection: hurried away by her own feelings, my persuasions, and my protestations, she consented to fly with me to my own country. I bore the trembling, fainting girl in my arms—effected my escape from the convent and the city—embarked on board of a vessel which I had ready to weigh at a moment’s warning, and was soon far distant from the port of Cadiz.It was near midnight when we embarked, and I bore my treasure down into the cabin of the vessel, muffled up in my cloak. Her nun’s dress had not been laid aside; for I had not provided myself with any other change of raiment.Before morning it blew fresh. Rosina, who, as well as I, had abandoned herself to that powerful love which engrossed us, lay supported in my arms, when the captain of the vessel, coming down to speak to me, perceived that she was arrayed in the religious attire. He started when he viewed it, and hastily quitted the cabin. I had a presentiment that all was not right, and, removing my arms from Rosina, repaired on deck, where I found him in consultation with the crew. The subject in agitation was their immediate return to Cadiz to deliver us to the Inquisition. I resisted the suggestion; claimed the vessel as my own, having chartered her, and threatened immediate death to any one who should attempt to alter her course; but it was in vain. Their horror at the sacrilege, and their fear of being implicated in, and suffering the dreadful penalties attending it, bore down all my arguments; my promises and my threats were alike disregarded.I was seized, overpowered, and the vessel steered in for land. I raved, stamped, and imprecated in vain: at last I declared that we all should suffer together, as I would denounce them as having been aware of my intentions, and state that it was only in consequence of my having refused to submit to farther extortion, that they had not fulfilled their agreement. This startled them; for they knew that the Inquisition gladly seized upon all pretexts; and that even if not convicted, their imprisonment would be long. Again they consulted; and heaving the vessel to the wind, they hoisted out the long boat. Having thrown into her a scanty supply of provisions and water, with a few necessaries, they brought up the terrified Rosina from the cabin, and, placing her in the boat, released and ordered me to follow. As soon as I was in the boat, they cut the rope by which it was towed, and we were soon left at a distance astern.Glad to escape from the cruelty of man, I cared little for the danger to which we were subjected from the elements. I consoled my frightened Rosina; I stepped the mast, hoisted the sail, and steered in a southerly direction, with the intention of landing on some part of the African coast. So far from being alarmed at my situation, I felt happy. I was in a frail bark; but I had within it all that I cared for in this world. I sailed I knew not where, but Rosina was in my company; I felt the uncertainty of our fate, but was more than compensated by the certainty of possession. The wind rose, the sea ran high, and curled in threatening foam; we darted with rapidity before it; and steering with one arm, while Rosina was clasped in the other, I delighted in our romantic situation; and, pleased with the excitement which it created, I was blind to the danger which we encountered.For six days we ran before the wind, when an accumulation of clouds upon the southern horizon indicated that we should have a change. I had no compass in the boat, but had steered by the sun during the day, and by the stars during the night. I now considered myself well to the southward, and determined upon running eastward, that I might gain the African shore; but the gale was too strong to permit me to bring the broadside of my small bark to the wind, and I was compelled to continue my course in a southerly direction.For the first time, a sensation of alarm came over me: we had but two days’ more sustenance, and Rosina was worn out by constant exposure. I myself felt the necessity of repose: it was with difficulty that I could keep my eyelids raised; every minute Nature demanded her rights, and I nodded at the helm.I was in a melancholy reverie, when I thought that I perceived, as the clouds on the horizon occasionally opened, something that had the appearance of the summit of a precipice. They closed again; I watched them with anxiety until they gradually rolled away, and discovered a lofty island, covered with trees and verdure down to the water’s edge. I shouted with delight, and pointed it out to Rosina, who answered my exultations with a faint smile. My blood curdled at the expression of her countenance: for many hours she had been in deep thought; and I perceived that the smile was forced to please me, the intelligence I had imparted affording her but little pleasure. I ascribed it to weariness and exhaustion; and hoping soon to be able to relieve her, I steered direct for the only part of the shore which promised us a safe descent. In an hour I was close to it: and, anxious to land before dark, I steered the boat, with the sail hoisted, through the surf, which was much heavier than I expected. As soon as her bow struck the beach, the boat was thrown on her broadside, and it required all my exertion to save my beloved, which I did not effect without our being completely washed by the surf, which, in a few minutes, dashed the boat to pieces. I bore her to a cave at a short distance from where we landed; and, wrapping her up in a cloak which I had saved from the boat, took away her nun’s attire, and exposed it to dry in the powerful rays of the sun. I went in search of food, which I soon obtained: banana and cocoa-nuts grew in profusion and in beauty, and fresh water ran down in noisy rills. I bore them to her, and congratulated her that we were now beyond all pursuit, and in a spot which promised to supply us with all that we required. She smiled languidly; her thoughts were elsewhere. Her clothes were dry, and I brought them to her: she shuddered at the sight of them, and seemed to muster up her resolution before she could put them on. Night closed in upon us, and we remained in the cave: our bed was formed of the cloaks and the sail of the boat; and, locked in each other’s arms, separated from all the world, and living but for each other, we fell asleep. The morning broke: not a cloud was to be seen through the blue expanse. We walked out, and dwelt in silent admiration upon the splendour of the scene. The island was clothed in beauty; the sun poured his genial rays upon the wild fertility of nature; the birds were warbling forth their notes of joy; the sea was calm and clear as a mirror, reflecting the steep hills which towered above each other. “Here then, Rosina,” cried I, at last, with rapture, “we have all that we require, blessed in each other’s love.”Rosina burst into tears: “All—all, Henrique, except an approving conscience, without which I feel that I cannot live. I love you—love you dearly—dote upon you, Henrique: you cannot doubt it after all that has occurred: but now that the delirium of passion has subsided, conscience has been busy—too busy, for it has embittered all; and I feel that happiness is flown for ever. I wedded myself to God; I chose my Saviour as my spouse; I vowed myself to him—was received by him at the altar; and I abandoned this world for that which is to come. What have I done?—I have been unfaithful to him—left him, to indulge a worldly passion, sacrificed eternity for perishable mortality, and there is a solemn voice within that tells me I am an outcast from all heavenly joys. Bear with me, dear Henrique! I mean not to reproach you, but I must condemn myself;—I feel that I shall not long remain here, but be summoned before an offended Lord.“Merciful Saviour!” cried she, falling on her knees, with imploring eyes to heaven, “punish him not—pardon him his faults; for what are they, compared to mine? he made no vows, he has committed no infidelity, he is not the guilty one. Spare him, O Lord, and justly punish her who has seduced him into crime!”My heart smote me; I threw myself on the ground, and wept bitterly. I felt that it had been my duplicity which had destroyed her virtuous resolutions; my selfishness which had ruined her peace of mind and had plunged her into guilt. She knelt by me, persuading me to rise, curbing her own feelings as she kissed the tears from my cheeks, promising never to wound my peace again. But it was gone—gone for ever; my crime burst on me in all its magnitude; I felt that I had been guilty of a grievous and unpardonable sin, and had ruined the one I loved as well as myself. She was still on her knees; kneeling by her side, I prayed to offended Heaven for mercy and forgiveness. She joined me in my fervent aspirations; and, with the tears of repentance flowing down our cheeks, we remained some time in the attitude of supplication. At last we rose. “Do you not feel happier, Rosina?” inquired I; Rosina smiled mournfully in reply, and we returned to the cave.For many hours we spoke not, but remained in sad communion with our own thoughts. The night again closed in, and we lay down to repose; and, as I clasped her in my arms, I felt that she shuddered, and withdrew. I released her, and retired to the other side of the cave, for I knew her feelings and respected them. From that hour she was no more to me than a dear and injured sister; and, although her frame hourly wasted away, her spirits seemed gradually to revive. At the expiration of a fortnight, she was too much reduced to rise from her bed, and I passed day and night sitting by her side in repentance and in tears, for I knew that she was dying. A few hours before she breathed her last she appeared to recover a little, and thus addressed me:—“Henrique, within this hour a balm has been poured into my breast, for a voice tells me we are both forgiven. Great is our crime; but our repentance has been sincere, and I feel assured that we shall meet in heaven. For your kindness—for your unceasing love, you have my thanks, and an attachment which Heaven does not forbid—for now it is pure. We have sinned, and we have pleaded, and obtained our pardon together: together shall we be, hereafter. Bless you, Henrique! pray for my soul, still clinging to its earthly love, but pardoned by him who knows our imperfection. Pure Mother of God, plead for me! Holy Saviour, who despised not the tears and contrition of the Magdalen, receive an unfaithful, but repentant spouse unto your bosom; for when I made my vow, thou knowest that my heart—”With what agony of grief did I hang over the body! with what bitter tears did I wash the clay-cold face, so beautiful, so angelic in its repose! In the morning, I dug her grave; and cleansing my hands, which were bleeding, from the task, returned to the corpse, and bore it, in its nun’s attire, to the receptacle which I had prepared. I laid it in; and, collecting the flowrets which blossomed round, strewed them over, and watched till sunset: when I covered her up, laying the earth, in small handfuls, as lightly on her dear remains, as the mother would the coverlid upon her sleeping babe. Long it was before I could prevail on myself to soil that heavenly face, or hide it from my aching eyes. When I had, I felt that Rosina was indeed no more, and that I was indeed alone.For two years I remained in solitude. I erected a rude chapel over her grave, and there passed my days in penance and contrition. Vessels belonging to other nations visited the island, and returning home with the intelligence, it was taken possession of and colonised. To their astonishment, they found me; and, when I narrated my story and my wishes, allowed me a passage to their country. Once more I embarked on the trackless wave, no longer my delight; and as the shore receded, I watched the humble edifice which I had raised over the remains of my Rosina: it appeared to me as if a star had settled over the spot, and I hailed it as an harbinger of grace. When I landed, I repaired to the convent to which I now belong; and, taking the vows of abstinence and mortification, have passed the remainder of my days in masses for the soul of my Rosina, and prayers for my own redemption.Such is the history of Henrique; and may it be a warning to those who allow their reason to be seduced by passion, and check not the first impulse towards wrong, when conscience dictates that they are straying from the paths of virtue!“Holy Allah!” exclaimed the pacha, yawning; “is this the bulbul singing to the rose?—What is it all about, Mustapha? or what is it written for, but to send one asleep? Murakhas, you are dismissed,” continued the pacha to the Greek slave, who retired.Mustapha, who perceived that the pacha was disappointed in the entertainment of the evening, immediately addressed him:— “The soul of your sublime highness is sad, and the mind is wearied.—What says the sage? and are not his words of more value than large pearls? ‘When thou art sick, and thy mind is heavy, send for wine. Drink, and thank Allah that he has given relief.’”“Wallah thaib!—it is well said,” replied the pacha: “Is not the ‘fire-water’ of the Franks to be obtained?”“Is not the earth, and what the earth contains, made for your sublime highness?” replied Mustapha, drawing from his vest a bottle of spirits.“God is great!” said the pacha, taking the bottle from his mouth, after a long draught, and handing it to his vizier.“God is most merciful!” replied Mustapha, recovering his breath, and wiping down his beard with the sleeve of his kalaât, as he respectfully passed the bottle over to his superior.
The next morning the pacha observed to Mustapha, “I have been thinking whether, as we have no story, it would not be as well to let the Greek finish the story of yesterday evening.”
“True, O pacha,” replied Mustapha, “better is hard fare than no food—if we cannot indulge in the pillau, we must content ourselves with boiled rice.”
“It is well said, Mustapha, so let him proceed.”
The Greek slave was then ordered in, and re-commenced as follows:—
Freedom was obtained at last; I flew to the sea-coast, chartered a small vessel, and chiding the winds as we scudded along, because they would not blow with a force equal to my impetuous desires, arrived at Cadiz. It was late in the evening when I disembarked and repaired to the convent; so exhausted was I by contending hopes and fears, that it was with difficulty I could support my own weight. I tottered to the wicket, and demanded my Rosina.
“Are you a near relation,” inquired the portress, “that you request the presence of a sister?” Her interrogation decided the point; Rosina had taken the veil, had abjured the world and me for ever. My brain reeled, and I fell senseless on the pavement. Alarmed at the circumstance, the portress ran to the Lady Abbess, informing her that a person had asked for sister Rosina, and, receiving her answer, had fallen senseless at the wicket. Rosina was present at the narration; her heart told her who it was; also told her that I had not been faithless. Joy at my fidelity, and grief at her own precipitancy, which rendered it unavailing, overpowered her, and she was led to her cell in a state as pitiable as mine.
When I recovered my senses, I found myself in bed. I had been there for weeks in a state of mental alienation. With reason and memory, misery returned; but I was no longer in the frenzy of excitement; my mind was as exhausted as my body, and I felt a species of calm despair. Convinced that all was lost, that an insuperable bar was placed between Rosina and me, I reasoned myself into a kind of philosophy; and resolved, as soon as I could recover my strength, to fly from a place which had been the scene of so much anticipated happiness, and of so much real woe.
One desire still remained; it was to see Rosina previous to my departure, that I might explain the cause of my delay. Conviction told me that it was wrong; but the impulse I could not resist: had I not yielded to it, I should have been unfortunate, but not guilty.
I wrote to her upbraiding her for her precipitation, and imploring a final interview. Her answer was affecting—it brought showers of tears from my eyes, and again inflamed my love. The interview was refused, as it could be productive of no benefit, and would only call forth feelings in opposition to her duty; but it was so kindly, so gently negatived, that it was evident her inclination was at variance with her pen; and on my repeating the request, as a proof that her affection had been sincere, she unwillingly acceded.
We met—for our misery—for our guilt, we met.—From that moment, I resolved never to abandon her—religion, virtue, morality, every feeling was borne away by the re-appearance of the object of my adoration; and before the interview was over, I again dared to breathe vows of fidelity to one who had devoted herself to God. “This cannot be, Henrique,” said Rosina; “we must meet no more: reflect, and you will be convinced of its impropriety. No dispensation from the vow will be permitted by my parents—all hopes of union in this world are over—Oh! may we meet in heaven!” and she clasped her hands in anguish as she disappeared.
I returned home, every pulse beating to madness. Again I addressed her, imploring another meeting; but received a firm denial. So far from being baffled at this addition to the obstacles which presented themselves, it but increased my determination to surmount them. To overcome her duty to her parents, to induce her to trample on her vows to God, to defy the torments of the Inquisition, to release her from bolts and bars, to escape from a fortified and crowded city—each and every difficulty but inflamed my ardour—every appeal of conscience but added to my wilful determination.
Although hitherto I had abhorred deceit, my first act was one of duplicity. I wrote to her, stating that I had been permitted an interview with her friends, and had made known to them what had passed; that they had listened to me, and were disposed to yield; and although it was kept a secret from her, in a few months her vows would be dispensed with.
How cruel—how selfish was my conduct! but it answered my intention. Buoyed up with the prospect of future happiness, Rosina no longer struggled against the fatal passion—no longer refused to see me, and listen to my vows of eternal fidelity. Deeper and deeper did she drink of the intoxicating draught, until it had effaced from her mind, as it had already done from mine, every other sensation than that of love. Although I could have kissed the ground which she trod upon, and have suffered the torments of a martyr for her sake, it was with the pleasure of a demon that I witnessed my success, and hailed her falling off from religion and from virtue.
Six months had passed away, during which, by bribes to the portress, and the yielding of my mistress, I had contrived to obtain admittance by night into the convent garden. One evening I informed her that her parents, menaced by their confessor, had rescinded their promise to me, and had decided upon not obtaining her dispensation. Every thing had been prepared, that she might have no time for reflection: hurried away by her own feelings, my persuasions, and my protestations, she consented to fly with me to my own country. I bore the trembling, fainting girl in my arms—effected my escape from the convent and the city—embarked on board of a vessel which I had ready to weigh at a moment’s warning, and was soon far distant from the port of Cadiz.
It was near midnight when we embarked, and I bore my treasure down into the cabin of the vessel, muffled up in my cloak. Her nun’s dress had not been laid aside; for I had not provided myself with any other change of raiment.
Before morning it blew fresh. Rosina, who, as well as I, had abandoned herself to that powerful love which engrossed us, lay supported in my arms, when the captain of the vessel, coming down to speak to me, perceived that she was arrayed in the religious attire. He started when he viewed it, and hastily quitted the cabin. I had a presentiment that all was not right, and, removing my arms from Rosina, repaired on deck, where I found him in consultation with the crew. The subject in agitation was their immediate return to Cadiz to deliver us to the Inquisition. I resisted the suggestion; claimed the vessel as my own, having chartered her, and threatened immediate death to any one who should attempt to alter her course; but it was in vain. Their horror at the sacrilege, and their fear of being implicated in, and suffering the dreadful penalties attending it, bore down all my arguments; my promises and my threats were alike disregarded.
I was seized, overpowered, and the vessel steered in for land. I raved, stamped, and imprecated in vain: at last I declared that we all should suffer together, as I would denounce them as having been aware of my intentions, and state that it was only in consequence of my having refused to submit to farther extortion, that they had not fulfilled their agreement. This startled them; for they knew that the Inquisition gladly seized upon all pretexts; and that even if not convicted, their imprisonment would be long. Again they consulted; and heaving the vessel to the wind, they hoisted out the long boat. Having thrown into her a scanty supply of provisions and water, with a few necessaries, they brought up the terrified Rosina from the cabin, and, placing her in the boat, released and ordered me to follow. As soon as I was in the boat, they cut the rope by which it was towed, and we were soon left at a distance astern.
Glad to escape from the cruelty of man, I cared little for the danger to which we were subjected from the elements. I consoled my frightened Rosina; I stepped the mast, hoisted the sail, and steered in a southerly direction, with the intention of landing on some part of the African coast. So far from being alarmed at my situation, I felt happy. I was in a frail bark; but I had within it all that I cared for in this world. I sailed I knew not where, but Rosina was in my company; I felt the uncertainty of our fate, but was more than compensated by the certainty of possession. The wind rose, the sea ran high, and curled in threatening foam; we darted with rapidity before it; and steering with one arm, while Rosina was clasped in the other, I delighted in our romantic situation; and, pleased with the excitement which it created, I was blind to the danger which we encountered.
For six days we ran before the wind, when an accumulation of clouds upon the southern horizon indicated that we should have a change. I had no compass in the boat, but had steered by the sun during the day, and by the stars during the night. I now considered myself well to the southward, and determined upon running eastward, that I might gain the African shore; but the gale was too strong to permit me to bring the broadside of my small bark to the wind, and I was compelled to continue my course in a southerly direction.
For the first time, a sensation of alarm came over me: we had but two days’ more sustenance, and Rosina was worn out by constant exposure. I myself felt the necessity of repose: it was with difficulty that I could keep my eyelids raised; every minute Nature demanded her rights, and I nodded at the helm.
I was in a melancholy reverie, when I thought that I perceived, as the clouds on the horizon occasionally opened, something that had the appearance of the summit of a precipice. They closed again; I watched them with anxiety until they gradually rolled away, and discovered a lofty island, covered with trees and verdure down to the water’s edge. I shouted with delight, and pointed it out to Rosina, who answered my exultations with a faint smile. My blood curdled at the expression of her countenance: for many hours she had been in deep thought; and I perceived that the smile was forced to please me, the intelligence I had imparted affording her but little pleasure. I ascribed it to weariness and exhaustion; and hoping soon to be able to relieve her, I steered direct for the only part of the shore which promised us a safe descent. In an hour I was close to it: and, anxious to land before dark, I steered the boat, with the sail hoisted, through the surf, which was much heavier than I expected. As soon as her bow struck the beach, the boat was thrown on her broadside, and it required all my exertion to save my beloved, which I did not effect without our being completely washed by the surf, which, in a few minutes, dashed the boat to pieces. I bore her to a cave at a short distance from where we landed; and, wrapping her up in a cloak which I had saved from the boat, took away her nun’s attire, and exposed it to dry in the powerful rays of the sun. I went in search of food, which I soon obtained: banana and cocoa-nuts grew in profusion and in beauty, and fresh water ran down in noisy rills. I bore them to her, and congratulated her that we were now beyond all pursuit, and in a spot which promised to supply us with all that we required. She smiled languidly; her thoughts were elsewhere. Her clothes were dry, and I brought them to her: she shuddered at the sight of them, and seemed to muster up her resolution before she could put them on. Night closed in upon us, and we remained in the cave: our bed was formed of the cloaks and the sail of the boat; and, locked in each other’s arms, separated from all the world, and living but for each other, we fell asleep. The morning broke: not a cloud was to be seen through the blue expanse. We walked out, and dwelt in silent admiration upon the splendour of the scene. The island was clothed in beauty; the sun poured his genial rays upon the wild fertility of nature; the birds were warbling forth their notes of joy; the sea was calm and clear as a mirror, reflecting the steep hills which towered above each other. “Here then, Rosina,” cried I, at last, with rapture, “we have all that we require, blessed in each other’s love.”
Rosina burst into tears: “All—all, Henrique, except an approving conscience, without which I feel that I cannot live. I love you—love you dearly—dote upon you, Henrique: you cannot doubt it after all that has occurred: but now that the delirium of passion has subsided, conscience has been busy—too busy, for it has embittered all; and I feel that happiness is flown for ever. I wedded myself to God; I chose my Saviour as my spouse; I vowed myself to him—was received by him at the altar; and I abandoned this world for that which is to come. What have I done?—I have been unfaithful to him—left him, to indulge a worldly passion, sacrificed eternity for perishable mortality, and there is a solemn voice within that tells me I am an outcast from all heavenly joys. Bear with me, dear Henrique! I mean not to reproach you, but I must condemn myself;—I feel that I shall not long remain here, but be summoned before an offended Lord.
“Merciful Saviour!” cried she, falling on her knees, with imploring eyes to heaven, “punish him not—pardon him his faults; for what are they, compared to mine? he made no vows, he has committed no infidelity, he is not the guilty one. Spare him, O Lord, and justly punish her who has seduced him into crime!”
My heart smote me; I threw myself on the ground, and wept bitterly. I felt that it had been my duplicity which had destroyed her virtuous resolutions; my selfishness which had ruined her peace of mind and had plunged her into guilt. She knelt by me, persuading me to rise, curbing her own feelings as she kissed the tears from my cheeks, promising never to wound my peace again. But it was gone—gone for ever; my crime burst on me in all its magnitude; I felt that I had been guilty of a grievous and unpardonable sin, and had ruined the one I loved as well as myself. She was still on her knees; kneeling by her side, I prayed to offended Heaven for mercy and forgiveness. She joined me in my fervent aspirations; and, with the tears of repentance flowing down our cheeks, we remained some time in the attitude of supplication. At last we rose. “Do you not feel happier, Rosina?” inquired I; Rosina smiled mournfully in reply, and we returned to the cave.
For many hours we spoke not, but remained in sad communion with our own thoughts. The night again closed in, and we lay down to repose; and, as I clasped her in my arms, I felt that she shuddered, and withdrew. I released her, and retired to the other side of the cave, for I knew her feelings and respected them. From that hour she was no more to me than a dear and injured sister; and, although her frame hourly wasted away, her spirits seemed gradually to revive. At the expiration of a fortnight, she was too much reduced to rise from her bed, and I passed day and night sitting by her side in repentance and in tears, for I knew that she was dying. A few hours before she breathed her last she appeared to recover a little, and thus addressed me:—
“Henrique, within this hour a balm has been poured into my breast, for a voice tells me we are both forgiven. Great is our crime; but our repentance has been sincere, and I feel assured that we shall meet in heaven. For your kindness—for your unceasing love, you have my thanks, and an attachment which Heaven does not forbid—for now it is pure. We have sinned, and we have pleaded, and obtained our pardon together: together shall we be, hereafter. Bless you, Henrique! pray for my soul, still clinging to its earthly love, but pardoned by him who knows our imperfection. Pure Mother of God, plead for me! Holy Saviour, who despised not the tears and contrition of the Magdalen, receive an unfaithful, but repentant spouse unto your bosom; for when I made my vow, thou knowest that my heart—”
With what agony of grief did I hang over the body! with what bitter tears did I wash the clay-cold face, so beautiful, so angelic in its repose! In the morning, I dug her grave; and cleansing my hands, which were bleeding, from the task, returned to the corpse, and bore it, in its nun’s attire, to the receptacle which I had prepared. I laid it in; and, collecting the flowrets which blossomed round, strewed them over, and watched till sunset: when I covered her up, laying the earth, in small handfuls, as lightly on her dear remains, as the mother would the coverlid upon her sleeping babe. Long it was before I could prevail on myself to soil that heavenly face, or hide it from my aching eyes. When I had, I felt that Rosina was indeed no more, and that I was indeed alone.
For two years I remained in solitude. I erected a rude chapel over her grave, and there passed my days in penance and contrition. Vessels belonging to other nations visited the island, and returning home with the intelligence, it was taken possession of and colonised. To their astonishment, they found me; and, when I narrated my story and my wishes, allowed me a passage to their country. Once more I embarked on the trackless wave, no longer my delight; and as the shore receded, I watched the humble edifice which I had raised over the remains of my Rosina: it appeared to me as if a star had settled over the spot, and I hailed it as an harbinger of grace. When I landed, I repaired to the convent to which I now belong; and, taking the vows of abstinence and mortification, have passed the remainder of my days in masses for the soul of my Rosina, and prayers for my own redemption.
Such is the history of Henrique; and may it be a warning to those who allow their reason to be seduced by passion, and check not the first impulse towards wrong, when conscience dictates that they are straying from the paths of virtue!
“Holy Allah!” exclaimed the pacha, yawning; “is this the bulbul singing to the rose?—What is it all about, Mustapha? or what is it written for, but to send one asleep? Murakhas, you are dismissed,” continued the pacha to the Greek slave, who retired.
Mustapha, who perceived that the pacha was disappointed in the entertainment of the evening, immediately addressed him:— “The soul of your sublime highness is sad, and the mind is wearied.—What says the sage? and are not his words of more value than large pearls? ‘When thou art sick, and thy mind is heavy, send for wine. Drink, and thank Allah that he has given relief.’”
“Wallah thaib!—it is well said,” replied the pacha: “Is not the ‘fire-water’ of the Franks to be obtained?”
“Is not the earth, and what the earth contains, made for your sublime highness?” replied Mustapha, drawing from his vest a bottle of spirits.
“God is great!” said the pacha, taking the bottle from his mouth, after a long draught, and handing it to his vizier.
“God is most merciful!” replied Mustapha, recovering his breath, and wiping down his beard with the sleeve of his kalaât, as he respectfully passed the bottle over to his superior.