The Prince of India; Or, Why Constantinople Fell - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"There was an old demi-G.o.d with an eye in his forehead. Notaras' best orb just now is in the back of his head. He may be looking at the bay; he is really watching the portico"--such was the reply.
"Out! He cares nothing for us."
"Very true--we are not the Emperor."
"My Lord Duke is not happy to-day," was remarked in another coterie.
"Wait, my dear friend. The day is young."
"If this match should not be made after all"--
"He will know it first."
"Yes, nothing from the lovers, neither smile nor sigh, can escape him."
The Professor of Philosophy and his brother the Professor of Rhetoric ate and drank together, ill.u.s.trating the affinity of learning.
"Our Phranza is in danger," said the latter, nervously. "As thou art a subscriber to the doctrine of the _Phaedon_, I wish we could disembody our souls, if only for an hour."
"Oh, a singular wis.h.!.+ What wouldst thou?"
"Tell it not; but"--the voice dropped into a whisper--"I would despatch mine in search of the wise Chamberlain to warn him of what is here in practice."
"Ah, my brother, thou didst me the honor to read and approve my treatise on the Philosophy of Conspiracy. Dost thou remember the confounding elements given in the thesis?"
"Yes--Goodness is one."
"Under condition; that is, when the result is dependent upon a party of virtuous disposition."
"I remember now."
"Well, we have the condition here."
"The Princess!"
"And therefore the Duke, not our Phranza, is in danger. She will discomfit him."
"May Heaven dispose so!" And the Rhetorician almost immediately added, "Observe thou. Notaras has established himself within easy hearing of the two. He has actually invaded the s.p.a.ce reserved for them."
"As if to confirm my forecast!"
Then the Philosopher raised a cup.
"To Phranza!"
"To Phranza!" the Rhetorician responded.
This episode hardly concluded when the Emperor's brother sauntered to the Duke's side; and on the appearance of the Emperor and the Princess, he exclaimed, enthusiastically:
"Come of it what may, my Lord, the damsel is comely, and I fear not to compare her with the best of Trebizond or Georgia."
The Duke did not answer. Indeed, the lords were all intent upon exactly the same subject. Whether there had been an overture and an acceptance, or an overture and a declination, they believed the princ.i.p.als could not conceal the result; a look, a gesture, or something in the manner of one or both of them, would tell the tale to eyes of such practical discernment. By the greater number the information would be treated as news for discussion merely; a few had hopes or fears at stake; none of them was so perilously involved as Notaras; in his view, failure meant the promotion of Phranza, of all consequences, not excepting his own loss of favor and prestige, the most intolerable.
On the other part, Constantine was not less concerned in misleading his court. At the proper time he would give out that he had changed his mind at the last moment; before engaging himself to the Princess, he had concluded it best to wait and hear from Phranza. Accordingly, in pa.s.sing along the portico, he endeavored to look and behave like a guest; he conversed in an ordinary tone; he suffered his hostess to precede him; and, well seconded by her, he was installed in the state chair, without an argument yes or no for the sharp reviewers. At the table he appeared chiefly solicitous to appease an unusual hunger, which he charged to the early morning air on the Bosphorus.
Notaras, whom nothing of incident, demeanor or remark escaped, began very early to be apprehensive. Upon beholding his master's unlover-like concession to appet.i.te, he remarked sullenly, "Verily, either his courage failed, and he did not submit a proposal, or she has rejected him."
"My Lord Duke," the Emperor's brother replied, somewhat stung, "dost thou believe it in woman to refuse such an honor?"
"Sir," the Duke retorted, "women who go about unveiled are above or below judgment."
The Princess, in her place at the table, began there to recount her adventure at the White Castle, but when far enough in the recital to indicate its course the Emperor interrupted her.
"Stay, daughter," he said, gently. "The incident may prove of international interest. If not objectionable to you, I should be pleased to have some of my friends hear it." Then raising his voice, he called out: "Notaras, and thou, my brother, come, stand here. Our fair hostess had yesterday an astonis.h.i.+ng experience with the Turks on the other sh.o.r.e, and I have prevailed on her to narrate it." The two responded to the invitation by drawing nearer the Emperor at his right hand.
"Proceed now, daughter," the latter said.
"Daughter, daughter, indeed!" the Duke repeated to himself, and so bitterly it may be doubted if his master's diplomacy availed to put him at rest. The paternalism of the address was decisive--Phranza had won.
Then, presently overcoming her confusion, the Princess succeeded in giving a simple but clear account of how she was driven to the Castle, and of what befell her while there. When she finished, the entire suite were standing about the table listening.
Twice she had been interrupted by the Emperor.
"A moment!" he said to her, while she was speaking of the Turkish soldiery whose arrival at the ancient stronghold had been so nearly simultaneous with her own. Then he addressed himself to the Grand Domestic and the Admiral. "My Lords, in pa.s.sing the Castle, on our way up, you remember I bade the pilot take our s.h.i.+p near the sh.o.r.e there. It seemed to me the garrison was showing unusually large, while the flags on the donjon were strange, and the tents and horses around the walls implied an army present. You remember?"
"And we have now, Sire, the justification of your superior wisdom," the Grand Domestic replied, rising from a low salutation.
"I recall the circ.u.mstance, my Lords, to enjoin you not to suffer the affair to slip attention when next we meet in council--I pray pardon, daughter, for breaking the thread of your most interesting and important narrative. I am prepared to listen further."
Then, after description of the Governor, and his reception of the fugitives on the landing, His Majesty, with apologies, asked permission to offer another inquiry.
"Of a truth, daughter, the picture thou hast given us under the t.i.tle of Governor beareth no likeness to him who hath heretofore responded to that dignity. At various times I have had occasion to despatch messengers to the commandant, and returning, they have reported him a coa.r.s.e, unrefined, brutish-looking person, of middle age and low rank; and much I marvel to hear the freedom with which this person doth pledge my august friend and ally, Sultan Amurath. My Lords, this will furnish us an additional point of investigation. Obviously the Castle is of military importance, requiring an old head full of experience to keep it regardful of peace and clear understanding between the powers plying the Bosphorus.
We are always to be apprehensive of the fire there is in young blood."
"With humility, Your Majesty," said the Grand Domestic, "I should like to hear from the Princess, whose loveliness is now not more remarkable than her courage and discretion, the evidence she has for the opinion that the young man is really the Governor."
She was about to reply when Lysander, the old servant, elbowed himself through the brilliant circle, and dropped his javelin noisily by her chair.
"A stranger calling himself an Arab is at the gate," he said to her, with the semblance of a salutation.
The simplicity of the ancient, his zeal in the performance of his office, his obliviousness to the imperial presence, caused a ripple of amus.e.m.e.nt.
"An Arab!" the Princess exclaimed, in momentary forgetfulness. "How does the man appear?"
Lysander was in turn distraught; after a short delay, however, he managed to answer: "His face is dark, almost black; his head is covered with a great cloth of silk and gold; a gown hides him from neck to heels; in his girdle there is a dagger. He has a lordly air, and does not seem in the least afraid. In brief, my mistress, he looks as if he might be king of all the camel drivers in the world."
The description was unexpectedly graphic; even the Emperor smiled, while many of the train, presuming license from his amus.e.m.e.nt, laughed aloud.
In the midst of the merriment, the Princess, calmly, and with scarce a change from her ordinary tone, proceeded to an explanation.