Midst the Wild Carpathians Part 29

Before them stood a dazzlingly beautiful woman in oriental _deshabille_.

Her locks were enveloped in a red fez, the long gold ta.s.sels of which fell across her white turban over her pale face; her ivory-smooth shoulders gleamed forth from the sleeves of her short, ermine-embroidered kaftan; her eyes sparkled in the dark; every movement of her lithe body was serpentine, fascinating, maddening.

The three men held their breath. The girl pa.s.sed by without observing them.

"Ah, that is she," whispered Zulfikar in amazement, when she had gone.

"Who? Do you know her?" asked Clement.

"It is Azrael, Corsar Beg's former favourite."

"What a place for her to be in!"

"Pst! she'll hear us."

Meanwhile the girl had reached the basin where the subterraneous waters poured their mingled flood, sat down on a stone bench, and commenced to unwind her turban. Her jasper-black hair fell down over her shoulders.

Sange Moarte's hot panting resounded through the darkness.

The panther lay quietly at his mistress's feet, his shrewd head resting on his front paws.

Azrael now removed her bright Persian shawl from her slim waist, and next prepared to slip off her light kaftan, taking a couple of steps towards a projecting rocky b.u.t.tress which hid her from the eyes of the watchers.

Sange Moarte was about to rush after her. It was all the two men could do to hold him back.

"Are you mad?" growled Zulfikar in his ear. "Would you betray us with your infernal curiosity?"

"The poor devil is in love with the girl!" whispered Clement.

At that moment there came the sound of a splash, as of some one leaping into the water and playing with its waves.

Sange Moarte frantically tore himself loose from his companions' arms, and with a furious yell rushed towards the basin.

At this yell Azrael, in all the maddening witchery of her charms, sprang out of her watery mirror, looked at the presumptuous wretch with flas.h.i.+ng eyes, and cried savagely--

"Oglan! Seize him!"

The panther had hitherto remained motionless; but the moment his mistress called him to battle, he sprang up with a roar, seized the young Wallach, and threw him with a single jerk to the ground.

Sange Moarte did not think of defending himself against the savage beast, but stretched out his hands imploringly towards the odalisk; drank in her loveliness with thirsty looks; writhed closer to her, and, weeping and groaning, fell down at her feet, while Azrael stared wildly at him, threw her mantle hastily around her, and watched her darling panther tear to pieces the youth who had never loved any one in his life in order that he might love her to the death.

"I'll go and help him!" cried Clement, mad with horror, and drawing his sword.

"Softly! Don't be a fool! Besides, we have something better to do. The iron gate remains open; let us creep in while the lady is otherwise engaged, and find out what there is here; that will interest our masters very much, especially mine."

With that the two men crept through the iron door, groped their way along the narrow pa.s.sage which seemed to have been cut out of the naked rock, and discovered at the end of it, by the light of a lamp hanging from the roof, several small doors to the right and left. They opened one door after the other, but only found empty rooms with no further outlets. At length a glimpse of the outer world reached them through one of the windows. They hastened forward in that direction, and coming upon a second iron door pa.s.sed through it, and found themselves in a large courtyard surrounded by high walls, one of which they scaled, and beheld from the top of it the valley of the cold Szamos stretching far and wide before their eyes. Soon after they discovered a footpath which led them from the wall to the woodlands below, and off they set running, and never drew breath till they had safely reached the bottom. It was only then that the two men ventured to stop and look each other in the face.

Clement fancied he still heard the wildly musical voice of the fair demoniac, the roaring of the panther, and the death-shrieks of the young Wallach.

"We may as well go on now," remarked Zulfikar, "for to return the way we came without a guide is impossible, and we are bound to come out somewhere."

And, indeed, they soon came upon two wood-cutters, who were fastening their raft to the river's bank.

"What is that castle yonder?" asked Clement.

The men stared at him.

"Where? What castle?"

Clement looked behind to show it to them, and behold! nowhere was anything to be seen with the remotest resemblance to a castle, nothing but rocks, each the counterpart of the other. The Wallachs laughed aloud.

"It were better not to mention it to them," said Zulfikar. "They look as if they do not know what is going on under their very noses. But we'll mark the place. Nothing but rocks are visible from the outside, the brushwood conceals the very opening through which we got into the open air."

So the wanderers inquired their way; returned to Marisel, where they naturally did not stop to be questioned about Sange Moarte, but mounted their steeds and rode off.

Zulfikar wanted Clement to go on with him to Banfi-Hunyad. The Patrol-officer, however, declined to trespa.s.s on Denis Banfi's domains, so the Turk went on alone to levy the new tax, though Clement prophesied that he would receive more kicks than halfpence.

Clement duly informed Ladislaus Csaky of what he had seen, and received one hundred ducats for his discovery, to say nothing of the green top-boots.

Zulfikar fared much more strangely.

On arriving at Grosswardein, he gave the tribute-money to Ali Pasha, informing him at the same time of all that he had found out about Azrael.

This girl, when only thirteen years old, had been carried off from Ali Pasha's harem by Corsar Beg. Ali, her original possessor, had promised a reward of two hundred ducats to whomsoever should discover the whereabouts of his favourite.

Zulfikar on quitting the Pasha had in his hand a purse of two hundred ducats. This came to the ears of the Aga, Zulfikar's superior officer, who straightway picked a quarrel with the renegade, and condemned him to one hundred strokes of the bastinado, unless he preferred redeeming each stroke with a ducat.

"I won't do that," returned Zulfikar, "but I'll hand over to you the gift which Denis Banfi sent to Ali Pasha when I told him he was to pay the new tax. Give it to the Pasha, and I'll wager he'll so reward you that you'll remember it all your life."

The Aga greedily caught at the offer, took charge of the carefully-sealed casket which Zulfikar himself ought to have handed to the Pasha, and presented it to his Excellency with the following respectful salutation--

"Behold, most gracious Pasha, I bring you that princely gift which Lord Denis Banfi has sent you in lieu of taxes."

Ali Pasha seized the casket, cut through the silken cords, broke the seal, and took off the cover, when lo! a horrible, shrivelled pig's tail fell out of it on to his kaftan--the direst, most abominable outrage which can befall a Mussulman!

Ali Pasha in his fury sprang almost up to the ceiling, and throwing his turban to the ground, immediately ordered that the Aga, who stood rooted to the spot with horror, should be impaled outside the camp.

But Zulfikar went gaily on his way with the two hundred ducats in his pocket.

CHAPTER III.

AN HUNGARIAN MAGNATE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

There was a great commotion at Bonczhida Castle. The lord of the manor, Denis Banfi, was expected home from Ebesfalva. The castle gates (on the midmost panel of which blazed a huge family coat-of-arms between the claws of two golden lions rampant) were overshadowed by green branches and bravely-coloured banners; in the street, the school-children, in gala costume, were drawn up in a long line headed by their teachers; further back, with bright Sunday faces, stood the va.s.sals; and, marshalled in front of the hillock which marked the bounds, the mounted gentry of the County of Klausenburg, some eight hundred hors.e.m.e.n or so, all of them stalwart, st.u.r.dy forms, armed with morning stars and good broad-swords, had come out to meet their leader, the Marshal of the n.o.bility.