Chapter XVII: Part 17

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, dear Zara, Alp is indeed a noble youth, well worthy a lady's love," answered Ina.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Volume 3, Chapter IX.

Three days had passed since the Baron Galetzoff had received the visit from the treacherous Khan Khoros Kaloret; and he was now eagerly expecting his return, with his clansmen and prisoners, when he began to suspect that the chief had played him falsely. As each successive hour passed by without his coming, his anger proportionably arose. He was also under constant dread of an attack from the mountaineers, though, as yet, he had seen few signs of them.

The troops were busily employed in digging trenches, throwing up embankments, and finishing the fortifications. Oxen were dragging in cartloads of provisions, or fodder for their horses. Officers were riding about, and superintending the men. A strong detachment were sent out, flanked with cannon, and a body of Cossacks to cut down timber for the palisadoes. Others also were employed in cutting grass, and bringing in wood for fuel. Sentinels were posted in every direction, advanced guards were sent out, and the soldiers worked at all times with their arms by their sides, for they knew not at what moment the dreaded mountaineers might break through the covert of the wooded height, and, with a cloud of cavalry, might come sweeping by them like a whirlwind, ere they had time to form their ranks. Their heavy artillery, loaded to the muzzles with grape shot, were pointed in every direction; and many an anxious eye was cast towards the mountains, in expectation of seeing the glittering arms of the foes about to rush down upon them.

Towards the close of the day, as the sun was sinking low on the marshes of the Kouban, throwing a bright warm gleam of light on the rich brown-tinted foliage of the trees, the outer guards rushed in with the intelligence, that the enemy were upon them. The drums beat, the bugles sounded, and the whole force flew to arms, as the sun-beams glittered on the armour and swords of a band of mountaineers, who were seen issuing from the woods, and galloping at full speed towards them. They were about to receive the new comers with a shower of grape, when Count Erintoff stopped them, as the band seemed to consist of but a small number.

"They are friends," he cried; "harm them not." And as he saw the Khan, he galloped out to meet him. Before him on his horse, the Khan bore a light form, wrapped in a cloak; when the Count, eagerly expecting to behold the beautiful features of the Circassian maid, was much disappointed, and enraged to find only the young page, Conrin.

"How comes this, Khan?" he exclaimed; "why, you have left your chief prize behind! Where are the other prisoners you promised to bring with you? The General will have but little cause to thank you for your zeal."

"I could bring only these," answered the Khan fiercely. "I have been baffled and defeated in all my attempts, but I will yet have my revenge. Take these two prisoners; they are Giaours, by their looks. Kill them if you will, but ask me no questions."

"We must be content then with the prize you bring us; and may soon find more occupation for you," replied the Count. "But how did you not succeed in bringing off the lady?"

"I have before said, ask me no questions," replied the Khan, angrily. "Take these prisoners, and kill them if you will."

"We are not likely to disappoint you, Khan, for if we do not get their master by their means into our power, they will be shot to-morrow;" said the Count.

"I care not. Their friends have given me trouble enough; and had not your General insisted on having them, I should have killed them myself, as I did many others," replied the Khan.

The Baron being informed of the Khan's arrival, was expecting him in his tent. The barbarian was therefore at once conducted thither by the Count.

"Where are the prisoners you promised to bring?" said the Baron, looking sternly at him.

"I have brought but two, who are in the hands of my followers;" answered the Khan.

"Who are they?" asked the Baron, eagerly.

"The page, and a Frank follower of Selem Gherrei," answered the Khan.

"Ah, I must see them immediately," exclaimed the General. "Khan, you have not fulfilled my expectations; but you shall be welcome. You and your followers shall be cared for here at present, until I can assign you lands in whatever part of the neighbouring country you may choose."

With a haughty salutation, and a discontented look, the Khan left the tent.

"Let that proud chief be well watched," continued the Baron, as he departed. "See, that none of his followers quit the camp. I do not trust him, even now. Had he brought off the chieftain's daughter, we should have had a hold upon him; but he may now again escape us. Colonel Erintoff, you have lost your mistress."

"I owe the barbarian a grudge for the disappointment," answered the Count.

"You may soon have an opportunity of revenging yourself on him," said the Baron. "But, now to business. Let the prisoners be brought in, and I will see what I can make of them. Stay, and assist me."

In a few minutes, a file of soldiers conducted Javis and the young Conrin to the door of the tent, with their arms bound. The Baron ordered them to be brought in, when the soldiers retired. Javis looked round him with a firm and determined air, fearless of the presence in which he stood.

The poor page was wearied, and bruised with his rapid journey, and attempts at escape; but a fire glowed in his eyes, as he gazed at the Baron and the Count Erintoff, while a smile of scorn and defiance played round his lips.

"Stand forward, boy," said the Baron, addressing him sternly. "What induced you to leave your native land, and join the hordes of these barbarians?"

"My own good pleasure," answered Conrin.

"Know you not, mad boy, that, by so doing you have broken your allegiance to the Emperor, and are guilty of treason?" said the Baron.

"I owe allegiance to no man," returned Conrin, firmly and proudly. "I have full right to go where I will."

"You are a subject of the Emperor, boy; and as such, I find you living among his enemies," said the Baron. "Know you not, that I have power to treat you as a traitor?"

"I am a subject of no ruler under Heaven," answered the page; "but full well do I know your power."

"You speak foolishly; but I pity your youth, and would be lenient with you," answered the Baron.

"If you would be merciful, then," said Conrin, still with a curl on his lip, and in a slight tone of irony, "let me go free. I am but a youth, and what harm can I do to the mighty power of Russia?"

"What say you, Count, shall I let this innocent boy go free?" said the Baron, sneeringly. "Well you seem to agree with me! Now, listen, boy; you shall be at liberty to go where you will, even to return to the mountains, if you wish; but on one condition. You follow a master, it seems, who led you among those barbarous hordes of savages, for which you need owe him but little gratitude, as he has been the means of placing you in your present danger. I will not conceal from you, that your master is an arch-villain and traitor to Russia; and that I am anxious to get him into my power. Now, boy, you may be instrumental in forwarding my views; and if you will undertake to obey my orders, you yourself shall not only be pardoned, but shall be richly rewarded. What say you to my proposition? Do you consent?"

It was difficult at first to determine what emotions filled the boy's heart, at hearing this proposition. The brightness of his eyes increased, and a bitter smile played over his features. For a minute he stood confronting the General, and appearing to seek for words to give expression to his feelings.

"Man," said he, "Commander of thousands! go seek, among the slaves who obey you, one who has betrayed his master, and send him to me, that I may learn a lesson from him, and know, in future, how to mark the features of a villain. Compare his with mine, and see if they are alike; and then say if I am likely to accept your noble offer, if such is to be the price of my liberty. It is useless speaking more."

"Boy, you are foolish," said the Baron, endeavouring to soften his rough voice to a tone of kindness, and to bend his features into a look of benignity. "What I ask of you, hundreds in like position would be found to do for slight reward. It is not a difficult task that I wish you to perform; and if you do it not, others will be found who will, and your master cannot escape me. All I desire of you is to entice this young Selem Gherrei near the fort, where I will place an ambush to capture him. Think you I would injure him? No!--it will be but for his own benefit, as it will rescue him from those barbarians, and restore him to civilised life. And for yourself, I promise you a rich reward. You may stay and join the army, or I will find you a safe conveyance to your own country and home. Think well upon the offer which I make you."

Young Conrin threw a look of scorn at the General, turning his eyes slowly towards the Count, and with almost a laugh of derision, he answered--

"A noble offer, truly; could you but read my heart, you would see how great is the chance that I should accept it. Think you that to gain wealth, all people would become villains? that all men have a price, to be bought and sold? I pity the wretch with such philosophy. None but those with bad hearts could think so. No, no; such base offers are thrown away if made to me. Give me but liberty, and I shall be grateful."

"Once again, boy, I make an offer such as is not my wont," said the Baron. "I know not how it is, but I feel compassion for your youth, and would not harm you if you would obey my wishes. You shall go free, free as the air we breathe; on this condition, you must persuade your master to come, and I will promise you he shall receive no harm; for, in spite of all his offences, I would wean him from the cause he advocates, and bring him over to the side of Russia."

"No!" answered the page firmly. "Were you to offer boundless riches, honours--such honours as you can bestow--were it even to place him on a throne propped up by tyranny, I would not draw him from the path of glory he follows now, fighting for his country's cause, though his home is but a humble cot on the mountain's side."

"But suppose, boy, I offer to gain for him rank and fortune, and to restore him to a civilised life far from these scenes of war and bloodshed. Will not that promise tempt you?"

The page seemed to penetrate to the inmost recess of the Baron's mind, so piercing a glance did he cast at him, as with scorn, still dwelling on his lip, he answered, "No; I have said before, my master values such things less, far less than honour. Did I think he would accept your offer--and well I know he will not--I could not trust you, General! You would impose upon my youth and innocence; but you are mistaken."

The Baron's brow grew dark as night; his voice almost trembled with rage as he became convinced that his attempts to persuade the youth to obey his wishes would be fruitless. "Hear me, mad boy!" he exclaimed. "You ask for liberty. Do you hope to gain it? Never! Obey my orders, or death and torture alone await you. You talk of leading a peaceful life; Count Erintoff, before whom you stand, observed you at the Mezi, following your master in the strife. Twice were you seen to slay the Emperor's soldiers; you fought in the ranks of the rebels. That is enough alone to condemn you to death as a traitor to Russia. Think not to escape by a specious tale of innocence, nor hope for pardon on account of your youth. You were old enough to wield your weapons well. You will be condemned to die to-morrow."

"I have said before that I would not do the deed you ask; no, not for all the riches of the East," answered Conrin firmly. "And for my life, I do not value that so much but that I can laugh your threats to scorn. Then do your worst upon me; I am prepared to meet your vengeance."

"Mad obstinate boy!" cried the Baron furiously, "your doom is sealed. I will examine the other prisoner. Remove the youth."

At these words Javis, who had stood with a stern glance regarding the Baron, sprang forward in spite of his fettered hands. "Stay, General," he cried earnestly; "you know not what you do. Be not thus cruel. This seeming page is--"

"Javis!" exclaimed Conrin, "speak not a word of me, I charge you. Swear to me that you will not, for I can soon escape their tyranny. I would die unknown to all, but to you, my true and faithful friend. As I have lived, I am prepared to die. Swear that you will not betray me to mortal soul;" he hesitated. "I command you swear, or, even now, as you well know, I have the means; you shall see me this moment die at your feet."

"I swear to obey your wishes; but oh, save yourself. A word would do it," cried Javis.

"Never! I fear not death half, half as much as life within the power of these men," exclaimed Conrin.

"Boy, I give you still another chance. Let not sleep o'ercome you till you have weighed the offer I have made, or it may prove your last," said the Baron, as Conrin was led off.

As may be supposed, the General could not elicit a word of information from Javis, who evaded every question which was asked of him, until the Baron grew furious. The same tempting offers were made to him as to Conrin, but he repelled them indignantly.

"I will not turn a traitor to my master," he said; "but I will serve you faithfully if you will save that boy's life; or if you will take mine, I will give it joyfully for his. You know not whom you kill."

"If you will obey my wishes," said the Baron, "not only will I pardon the boy, but I will load you with wealth, such as you never thought before to have."

"Oh mighty spirit of my fathers, guard my heart!" ejaculated Javis. "No, it cannot be; not all the offers that you make me can cause my purpose to alter. Yet you cannot be so base, so cruel a tyrant, as to slay that young and harmless boy."

"Slave, do you speak thus to me?" exclaimed the Baron. "Think you that you have any hopes of escaping death? If so, you are deceived. You, too, shall die. Think well upon my words, and mark me. The boy dies first while you are standing by. To the last moment, his life shall be in your hands. If you would save him, consent to obey my wishes. Ere mid-day comes to-morrow he shall die, and your death shall follow. Think well on what I say. Obey me, or never hope again to see the sun go down. Lead him away," he cried to the guards without, "and keep him separate from the other prisoner. Well, Count," he said, turning to that officer, "how think you I have managed with these traitors?"

"Admirably, Baron," answered Count Erintoff. "Yet I never saw so much obstinacy displayed. I think you have worked upon them to comply with your wishes; and, by their aid, I still have hopes of capturing young Selem Gherrei."

"I know not," said the Baron; "there was a fierce stubborn look in that boy's eye I scarce could have expected from one so young; but perhaps the Gipsy, who seems to have a most romantic affection for him, may, for the sake of saving him, obey my wishes. But if he does not, I swear no power shall save them. To-morrow morning early, they must be tried: we know the verdict. Go, Count, and make arrangements for their trial. I would be alone."

We must hope, for the sake of human nature, that the General would, in his cooler moments, have altered the determination he had expressed; though the atrocious barbarities which that man was guilty of towards his Circassian prisoners, when any, faint or senseless from their wounds, fell into his hands, would repress any charitable construction of his motives, and ensure only our hatred.

Conrin was removed to a rough small hut of logs, which had lately been erected to serve the purpose of a prison; but it had, as yet, no occupants, owing to the constant employment of the soldiers which kept them from committing any faults. The ground was unbeaten, ends of branches projecting from the sides, and a log being left at one end to serve the purpose of a couch or seat for the prisoners; but as yet it was not even hewn smooth. Conrin was thrust in by his guards, and then left to his solitary meditations, with some black bread and almost stagnant water; not worse fare, perhaps, than the soldiers themselves were obliged to submit to. He threw himself on the rough log, deep sobs breaking at times from his breast; while, with hands clasped in agony, he turned his eyes towards Heaven, as if imploring aid.

"No! no! hopeless is my lot! I am forsaken by the mighty Spirit! and thus to die without the slightest chance of one fond look on him for whom I have sacrificed all on earth! Then the bitter anguish to feel he knows me not; or, if he knew, perchance would spurn my love. Death-- annihilation would be better far. No, he shall never learn the truth. And yet I would that he should know how true and firm a heart mine was; and then, when I am reduced to the ashes from whence I sprung, perchance he would cast some fond regret upon my memory. Oh! did I think that he would love me, the very joy would make me laugh at death. But thus to die!" The sobs of the supposed page were renewed. He started, and strove to suppress his agitation, for he heard steps approaching.

It was now midnight--that time when the feelings are the acutest, the nerves most easily excited; when the thoughts strive to wander o'er the regions of boundless space to search out things mysterious and inscrutable; when the spirit often seems to quit the bonds of this our living mortal frame, to visit ideal regions. It is not the spirits of the dead, which long have flown to other realms we wot not of, which mortals fancy oft they see, but their own yet earthly souls are worked into fever by some potent and subtle influence when the vivifying power of the sun has been withdrawn.

Conrin listened earnestly.

"Ah! well I know that foot-fall! Oh! mine enemy, hast thou found me? Even now I feel his baneful influence, like that dark spirit who roves about to seek for prey. The bigot fools need not have decked him with other attributes than those of mortal man, when foul passions gain the mastery over him."

"Who goes there?" shouted the sentry at the door of the hut.

"Your Colonel," answered the deep tones of Count Erintoff's voice. "Stand there, and turn not till I call you."

After which words, Conrin heard the door of his prison open, and, by the light which faintly streamed in, he beheld the tall form of the Count, who, closing the door, placed a lanthorn he carried in his hand on the ground, so as to throw its rays on the features of the prisoner. The page rose not, spoke not, but remained in the attitude in which he had been sitting, with his hands clasped together, and his head bent down.

The visitor surveyed him earnestly ere he addressed him, meditating apparently on what he should say.

"I am come to give you liberty and life, instead of the death you so madly seem to seek. Think you I know you not? When yon dull sottish bear, the General, was questioning you, I knew you by the glance of those expressive features, that haughty brow, that lip curling in proud disdain. Think you a boy would have stood undaunted before the furious rage of yonder overbearing Baron, or would have returned him word for word and glance for glance? You played your part but ill just now, whatever you may have done before to deceive (if so you have) the youth you followed to Circassia. Can he be so dull, so hard of heart, as not to recognise the maid who loves him? By Heavens, I do believe his wits so dull, his heart so careless of those charms which drove me near distracted at their loss, that he has not yet discovered you; and loves you not, basking, as you humbly look on in the senile character of a page, in the bright smiles of some of those mountain beauties."

With an hysterical cry, the girl, finding further disguise was useless, exclaimed--

"Begone, base villain. What demon prompts you to come hither to torment me?"

"Nay, nay, my pretty page," said the Count, approaching her, "I would not wound your feelings for the universe. I merely spoke what I know to be most true. I ask you why, for one who loves you not, you would sacrifice your life, and throw away all the bright offers that I have made you, and which I would fulfil? Oh! it would be a cruel thing to let those charms, which have enchained my heart, mingle with the dust, to leave this bright and joyous world so full of pleasures, (to those who have the sense to find them) to go you know not where. I do not ask you to betray the man you loved. I am not fool enough to think you would do so, until you should be convinced that he despises you; though I believe that haughty rebel, young Selem Gherrei, as he is called, cares not for you. But fly hence with me, and I can easily deceive this brutish General. I offer you wealth and happiness, a bright and glorious future, where such charms as yours will far eclipse the proudest beauties of the capital. Believe me, I am not so dull a fool as not to appreciate that bright and soaring spirit--that proud undaunted soul--which raises you above your sex. I am not scrupulous as fools would be. I love you more myself, now that I know your heart is capable of so much feeling; and I would make it all my own. Then come, loved girl. This instant you shall be free. A few days more will see you on your road to Russia, where wealth, luxury, and happiness, await you."

The Count approached yet nearer, and attempted to take the girl's hand.

"Man!" she exclaimed--"if you are not rather the incarnation of the evil one, begone. Come not to torment my heart, already almost broken. Know, then, that luxury and wealth are things I despise almost as much as him who offers them; and as for happiness, I never in this world shall know it again, nor have you the power to give it me. Begone, and leave me to myself. You stir not. Then if you will not obey my commands, but still have a soul that can be influenced by prayer, oh! hear my earnest supplication, and leave me to myself."

"What madness makes you utter words like these?" said the Count. "Think well of what you throw away, and of the dark fate which awaits you. The Baron vows--and well I know he keeps his oaths when prompted by cruelty and revenge--that you must die to-morrow; and no mortal power but mine can save you. A word from me would rescue you. Fly with me. Ah! If you refuse, think not the man you love will benefit by your sacrifice; for here I swear that I will pursue him with the utmost rancour to avenge your death, of which he has been the cause. He has crossed my path before, and ere long I trust to see him in my power."

"You move me not by fear of any harm you can do him," answered the girl calmly. "He is above your malice, and would despise your vows of vengeance."

"If not for his sake then, save yourself for your own," exclaimed the Count. "Think how you will die, disgraced, unknown till after you have ceased to breathe; and then you will be a thing for savage soldiers to pass their brutal jest upon. Oh, why this madness? Let me save you from yourself, and fly with me."

The proud Count knelt at her feet, and again endeavoured to take her hand. "See," he exclaimed, "I kneel to you to beseech that you will let me save you from cruel death and contumely."

The girl then shrinking back, "Begone, I say, again," she cried. "Believe me, I despise you far too much even to seek your pity."