1 files changed, 3321 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/7842-0.txt b/7842-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2024a72
--- /dev/null
+++ b/7842-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3321 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rise of Iskander, by Benjamin Disraeli
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Rise of Iskander
+
+Author: Benjamin Disraeli
+
+Release Date: April, 2005  [EBook #7842]
+Last Updated: September 7, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISE OF ISKANDER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K. Kay Shearin
+
+
+
+
+
+THE RISE OF ISKANDER
+
+By Benjamin Disraeli
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+
+The sun had set behind the mountains, and the rich plain of Athens was
+suffused with the violet glow of a Grecian eye. A light breeze rose; the
+olive-groves awoke from their noonday trance, and rustled with returning
+animation, and the pennons of the Turkish squadron, that lay at anchor
+in the harbour of Piræus, twinkled in the lively air. From one gate
+of the city the women came forth in procession to the fountain; from
+another, a band of sumptuous horsemen sallied out, and threw their
+wanton javelins in the invigorating sky, as they galloped over the
+plain. The voice of birds, the buzz of beauteous insects, the breath of
+fragrant flowers, the quivering note of the nightingale, the pattering
+call of the grasshopper, and the perfume of the violet, shrinking from
+the embrace of the twilight breeze, filled the purple air with music and
+with odour.
+
+A solitary being stood upon the towering crag of the Acropolis, amid
+the ruins of the Temple of Minerva, and gazed upon the inspiring scene.
+Around him rose the matchless memorials of antique art; immortal columns
+whose symmetry baffles modern proportion, serene Caryatides, bearing
+with greater grace a graceful burthen, carvings of delicate precision,
+and friezes breathing with heroic life. Apparently the stranger, though
+habited as a Moslemin, was not insensible to the genius of the locality,
+nor indeed would his form and countenance have misbecome a contemporary
+of Pericles and Phidias. In the prime of life and far above the common
+stature, but with a frame the muscular power of which was even exceeded
+by its almost ideal symmetry, white forehead, his straight profile, his
+oval countenance, and his curling lip, exhibited the same visage that
+had inspired the sculptor of the surrounding demigods.
+
+The dress of the stranger, although gorgeous, was, however, certainly
+not classic. A crimson shawl was wound round his head and glittered with
+a trembling aigrette of diamonds. His vest which set tight to his form,
+was of green velvet, richly embroidered with gold and pearls. Over this
+he wore a very light jacket of crimson velvet, equally embroidered, and
+lined with sable. He wore also the full white camese common among the
+Albanians; and while his feet were protected by sandals, the lower part
+of his legs was guarded by greaves of embroidered green velvet. From
+a broad belt of scarlet leather peeped forth the jewelled hilts of
+a variety of daggers, and by his side was an enormous scimitar, in a
+scabbard of chased silver.
+
+The stranger gazed upon the wide prospect before him with an air of
+pensive abstraction. “Beautiful Greece,” he exclaimed, “thou art still
+my country. A mournful lot is mine, a strange and mournful lot, yet not
+uncheered by hope. I am at least a warrior; and this arm, though trained
+to war against thee, will not well forget, in the quick hour of battle,
+the blood that flows within it. Themistocles saved Greece and died
+a Satrap: I am bred one, let me reverse our lots, and die at least a
+patriot.”
+
+At this moment the Evening Hymn to the Virgin arose from a neighbouring
+convent. The stranger started as the sacred melody floated towards
+him, and taking a small golden cross from his heart, he kissed it with
+devotion, and then descending the steep of the citadel, entered the
+city.
+
+He proceeded alone the narrow winding streets of Athens until he at
+length arrived in front of a marble palace, in the construction of which
+the architect had certainly not consulted the surrounding models which
+Time bad spared to him, but which, however, it might have offended
+a classic taste, presented altogether a magnificent appearance.
+Half-a-dozen guards, whose shields and helmets somewhat oddly contrasted
+with the two pieces of cannon, one of which was ostentatiously placed on
+each side of the portal, and which had been presented to the Prince of
+Athens by the Republic of Venice, lounged before the entrance, and paid
+their military homage to the stranger as he passed them. He passed
+them and entered a large quadrangular garden, surrounded by arcades,
+supported by a considerable number of thin, low pillars, of barbarous
+workmanship, and various-coloured marbles. In the midst of the garden
+rose a fountain, whence the bubbling waters flowed in artificial
+channels through vistas of orange and lemon trees. By the side of the
+fountain on a luxurious couch, his eyes fixed upon a richly-illuminated
+volume, reposed Nicæus, the youthful Prince of Athens.
+
+“Ah! is it you?” said the Prince, looking up with a smile, as the
+stranger advanced. “You have arrived just in time to remind me that we
+must do something more than read the Persæ, we must act it.”
+
+“My dear Nicæus,” replied the stranger, “I have arrived only to bid you
+farewell.”
+
+“Farewell!” exclaimed the Prince in a tone of surprise and sorrow; and
+he rose from the couch. “Why! what is this?”
+
+“It is too true;” said the stranger, and he led the way down one of the
+walks. “Events have occurred which entirely baffle all our plans and
+prospects, and place me in a position as difficult as it is harrowing.
+Hunniades has suddenly crossed the Danube in great force, and carried
+everything before him. I am ordered to proceed to Albania instantly, and
+to repair to the camp at the head of the Epirots.”
+
+“Indeed!” said Nicæus, with a thoughtful air. “My letters did not
+prepare me for this. ‘Tis sudden! Is Amurath himself in the field?”
+
+“No; Karam Bey commands. I have accounted for my delay to the Sultan by
+pretended difficulties in our treaty, and have held out the prospect of
+a larger tribute.”
+
+“When we are plotting that that tribute should be paid no longer!” added
+Nicæus, with a smile.
+
+“Alas! my dear friend,” replied the Turkish commander, “my situation
+has now become critical. Hitherto my services for the Moslemin have been
+confined to acting against nations of their own faith. I am now suddenly
+summoned to combat against my secret creed, and the best allies of what
+I must yet call my secret country. The movement, it appears to me, must
+be made now or never, and I cannot conceal from myself, that it never
+could have been prosecuted under less auspicious circumstances.”
+
+“What, you desponding!” exclaimed Nicæus; “then I must despair. Your
+sanguine temper has alone supported me throughout all our dangerous
+hopes.”
+
+“And Æschylus?” said the stranger, smiling.
+
+“And Æschylus, certainly,” replied Nicæus; “but I have lived to find
+even Æschylus insipid. I pant for action.”
+
+“It may be nearer than we can foresee,” replied the stranger. “There is
+a God who fashions all things. He will not desert a righteous cause.
+He knoweth that my thoughts are as pure as my situation is difficult. I
+have some dim ideas still brooding in my mind, but we will not discuss
+them now. I must away, dear Prince. The breeze serves fairly. Have you
+ever seen Hunniades?”
+
+“I was educated at the Court of Transylvania,” replied Nicæus,
+looking down with a somewhat embarrassed air. “He is a famous knight,
+Christendom’s chief bulwark.”
+
+The Turkish commander sighed. “When we meet again,” he said, “may we
+meet with brighter hopes and more buoyant spirits. At present, I must,
+indeed, say farewell.”
+
+The Prince turned with a dejected countenance, and pressed his
+companion to his heart. “‘Tis a sad end,” said he, “to all our happy
+hours and lofty plans.”
+
+“You are as yet too young to quarrel with Fortune,” replied the
+stranger, “and for myself, I have not yet settled my accounts with her.
+However, for the present farewell, dear Nicæus!”
+
+“Farewell,” replied the Prince of Athens, “farewell, dear Iskander!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+
+Iskander was the youngest son of the Prince of Epirus, who, with the
+other Grecian princes, had, at the commencement of the reign of Amurath
+the Second, in vain resisted the progress of the Turkish arms in Europe.
+The Prince of Epirus had obtained peace by yielding his four sons as
+hostages to the Turkish sovereign, who engaged that they should be
+educated in all the accomplishments of their rank, and with a due
+deference to their faith. On the death of the Prince of Epirus, however,
+Amurath could not resist the opportunity that then offered itself
+of adding to his empire the rich principality he had long coveted. A
+Turkish force instantly marched into Epirus, and seized upon Croia, the
+capital city, and the children of its late ruler were doomed to death.
+The beauty, talents, and valour of the youngest son, saved him, however,
+from the fate of his poisoned brothers. Iskander was educated at
+Adrianople, in the Moslemin faith, and as he, at a very early age,
+exceeded in feats of arms all the Moslemin warriors, he became a prime
+favourite of the Sultan, and speedily rose in his service to the highest
+rank.
+
+At this period the irresistible progress of the Turkish arms was the
+subject of alarm throughout all Christendom.
+
+Constantinople, then the capital of the Greek Empire, had already been
+more than once besieged by the predecessors of Amurath, and had only
+been preserved by fortunate accidents and humiliating terms. The despots
+of Bosnia, Servia, and Bulgaria, and the Grecian princes of Etolia,
+Macedon, Epirus, Athens, Phocis, Boeotia, and indeed of all the regions
+to the straits of Corinth, were tributaries to Amurath, and the rest of
+Europe was only preserved from his grasp by the valour of the Hungarians
+and the Poles, whom a fortunate alliance had now united under the
+sovereignty of Uladislaus, who, incited by the pious eloquence of the
+cardinal of St. Angelo, the legate of the Pope, and, yielding to the
+tears and supplications of the despot of Servia, had, at the time our
+story opens, quitted Buda, at the head of an immense army, crossed the
+Danube, and, joining his valiant viceroy, the famous John Hunniades,
+vaivode of Transylvania, defeated the Turks with great slaughter,
+relieved all Bulgaria, and pushed on to the base of Mount Hæmus, known
+in modern times as the celebrated Balkan. Here the Turkish general,
+Karam Bey, awaited the Christians, and hither to his assistance was
+Iskander commanded to repair at the head of a body of Janissaries, who
+had accompanied him to Greece, and the tributary Epirots.
+
+Had Iskander been influenced by vulgar ambition, his loftiest desires
+might have been fully gratified by the career which Amurath projected
+for him. The Turkish Sultan destined for the Grecian Prince the hand
+of one of his daughters, and the principal command of his armies. He
+lavished upon him the highest dignities and boundless wealth; and,
+whether it arose from a feeling of remorse, or of affection for a
+warrior whose unexampled valour and unrivalled skill had already added
+some of the finest provinces of Asia to his rule, it is certain that
+Iskander might have exercised over Amurath a far greater degree of
+influence than was enjoyed by any other of his courtiers. But the heart
+of Iskander responded with no sympathy to these flattering favours.
+His Turkish education could never eradicate from his memory the
+consciousness that he was a Greek; and although he was brought up in
+the Moslemin faith, he had at an early period of his career, secretly
+recurred to the creed of his Christian fathers. He beheld in Amurath the
+murderer of his dearest kinsmen, and the oppressor of his country; and
+although a certain calmness of temper, and coolness of judgment, which
+very early developed themselves in his character, prevented him from
+ever giving any indication of his secret feelings, Iskander had long
+meditated on the exalted duty of freeing his country.
+
+Dispatched to Greece, to arrange the tributes and the treaties of the
+Grecian princes, Iskander became acquainted with the young Nicæus;
+and their acquaintance soon matured into friendship. Nicæus was
+inexperienced; but nature had not intended him for action. The young
+Prince of Athens would loll by the side of a fountain, and dream of the
+wonders of old days. Surrounded by his eunuchs, his priests, and his
+courtiers, he envied Leonidas, and would have emulated Themistocles. He
+was passionately devoted to the ancient literature of his country, and
+had the good taste, rare at that time, to prefer Demosthenes and Lysias
+to Chrysostom and Gregory, and the choruses of the Grecian theatre to
+the hymns of the Greek church. The sustained energy and noble simplicity
+of the character of Iskander, seemed to recall to the young prince the
+classic heroes over whom he was so often musing, while the enthusiasm
+and fancy of Nicæus, and all that apparent weakness of will, and those
+quick vicissitudes of emotion, to which men of a fine susceptibility are
+subject, equally engaged the sympathy of the more vigorous and constant
+and experienced mind of his companion.
+
+To Nicæus, Iskander had, for the first time in his life, confided much
+of his secret heart; and the young Prince fired at the inspiring tale.
+Often they consulted over the fortunes of their country, and, excited
+by their mutual invention, at length even dared to hope that they might
+effect its deliverance, when Iskander was summoned to the army. It was
+a mournful parting. Both of them felt that the last few months of
+their lives had owed many charms to their companionship. The parting of
+friends, united by sympathetic tastes, is always painful; and friends,
+unless this sympathy subsist, had much better never meet. Iskander
+stepped into the ship, sorrowful, but serene; Nicæus returned to his
+palace moody and fretful; lost his temper with his courtiers, and, when
+he was alone, even shed tears.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+
+Three weeks bad elapsed since the parting of Iskander and Nicæus, when
+the former, at the head of ten thousand men, entered by a circuitous
+route the defiles of Mount Hæmus, and approached the Turkish camp, which
+had been pitched, upon a vast and elevated table-ground, commanded
+on all sides by superior heights, which, however, were fortified and
+well-garrisoned by Janissaries. The Epirots halted, and immediately
+prepared to raise their tents, while their commander, attended by a few
+of his officers, instantly proceeded to the pavilion of Karam Bey.
+
+The arrival of Iskander diffused great joy among the soldiery; and as he
+passed through the encampment, the exclamations of the Turkish warriors
+announced how ready they were to be led to the charge by a chieftain who
+had been ever successful. A guard of honour, by the orders of Karam Bey,
+advanced to conduct Iskander to his presence; and soon, entering the
+pavilion, the Grecian prince exchanged courtesies with the Turkish
+general. After the formal compliments had passed, Karam Bey waved his
+hand, and the pavilion was cleared, with the exception of Mousa, the
+chief secretary, and favourite of Karam.
+
+“You have arrived in good time, Iskander, to assist in the destruction
+of the Christian dogs,” said the Bey. “Flushed with their accursed
+success, they have advanced too far. Twice they have endeavoured to
+penetrate the mountains; and each time they have been forced to retire,
+with great loss. The passages are well barricadoed with timber and huge
+fragments of rock. The dogs have lost all heart, and are sinking under
+the joint sufferings of hunger and cold. Our scouts tell me they
+exhibit symptoms of retreat. We must rush down from the mountains, and
+annihilate them.”
+
+“Is Hunniades here in person?” inquired Iskander.
+
+“He is here,” replied Karam, “in person, the dog of dogs! Come,
+Iskander, his head would be a fine Ramadan present to Amurath. ‘Tis a
+head worth three tails, I guess.”
+
+Mousa, the chief secretary, indulged in some suppressed laughter at this
+joke. Iskander smiled.
+
+“If they retreat we must assuredly attack them,” observed Iskander,
+musingly. “I have a persuasion that Hunniades and myself will soon
+meet.”
+
+“If there be truth in the Prophet!” exclaimed Karam. “I have no doubt
+of it. Hunniades is reserved for you, Bey. We shall hold up our heads at
+court yet, Iskander. You have had letters lately?”
+
+“Some slight words.”
+
+“No mention of us, of course?”
+
+“Nothing, except some passing praise of your valour and discretion.”
+
+“We do our best, we do our best. Will Isa Bey have Ætolia, think you?”
+
+“I have no thoughts. Our royal father will not forget his children, and
+Isa Bey is a most valiant chieftain.”
+
+“You heard not that he was coming here?” inquired Karam.
+
+“Have you?” responded the cautious Iskander.
+
+“A rumour, a rumour,” replied Karam. “He is at Adrianople, think you?”
+
+“It may be so: I am, you know, from Athens.”
+
+“True, true. We shall beat them, Iskander, we shall beat them.”
+
+“For myself, I feel sanguine,” replied the Prince, and he arose to
+retire. “I must at present to my men. We must ascertain more accurately
+the movements of the Christians before we decide on our own. I am
+inclined myself to reconnoitre them. How far may it be?”
+
+“There is not room to form our array between them and the mountains,”
+ replied Karam.
+
+“‘Tis well. Success attend the true believers! By to-morrow’s dawn we
+shall know more.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+
+Iskander returned to his men. Night was coming on. Fires and lights
+blazed and sparkled in every direction. The air was clear, but very
+cold. He entered his tent, and muffling himself up in his pelisse of
+sables, he mounted his horse, and declining any attendance, rode for
+some little distance, until he had escaped from the precincts of the
+camp. Then he turned his horse towards one of the wildest passes of
+the mountain, and galloping at great speed, never stopped until he had
+gained a considerable ascent. The track became steep and rugged. The
+masses of loose stone rendered his progress slow; but his Anatolian
+charger still bore him at intervals bravely, and in three hours’ time he
+had gained the summit of Mount Hæmus. A brilliant moon flooded the broad
+plains of Bulgaria with shadowy light. At the base of the mountainous
+range, the red watch-fires denoted the situation of the Christian camp.
+
+Iskander proceeded down the descent with an audacious rapidity; but his
+charger was thorough-bred, and his moments were golden. Ere midnight, he
+had reached the outposts of the enemy, and was challenged by a sentinel.
+
+“Who goes there?”
+
+“A friend to Christendom.”
+
+“The word?”
+
+“I have it not--nay calmly. I am alone, but I am not unarmed. I do not
+know the word. I come from a far country, and bear important tidings to
+the great Hunniades; conduct me to that chief.”
+
+“May I be crucified if I will,” responded the sentinel, “before I know
+who and what you are. Come, keep off, unless you wish to try the effect
+of a Polish lance,” continued the sentinel; “‘tis something, I assure
+you, not less awkward than your Greek fire, if Greek indeed you be.”
+
+“My friend, you are a fool,” said Iskander, “but time is too precious
+to argue any longer.” So saying, the Turkish commander dismounted, and
+taking up the brawny sentinel in his arms with the greatest ease,
+threw him over his shoulder, and threatening the astounded soldier with
+instant death if he struggled, covered him with his pelisse, and entered
+the camp.
+
+They approached a watch-fire, around which several soldiers were warming
+themselves.
+
+“Who goes there?” inquired a second sentinel.
+
+“A friend to Christendom,” answered Iskander.
+
+“The word?”
+
+Iskander hesitated.
+
+“The word, or I’ll let fly,” said the sentinel, elevating his cross bow.
+
+“The Bridge of Buda,” instantly replied the terrified prisoner beneath
+the pelisse of Iskander.
+
+“Why did not you answer before, then?” said one of the guards.
+
+“And why do you mock us by changing your voice?” said another. “Come,
+get on with you, and no more jokes.”
+
+Iskander proceeded through a street of tents, in some of which were
+lights, but all of which were silent. At length, he met the esquire of a
+Polish knight returning from a convivial meeting, not a little elevated.
+
+“Who are you?” inquired Iskander.
+
+“I am an Esquire,” replied the gentleman.
+
+“A shrewd man, I doubt not, who would make his fortune,” replied
+Iskander. “You must know great things have happened. Being on guard
+I have taken a prisoner, who has deep secrets to divulge to the Lord
+Hunniades. Thither, to his pavilion, I am now bearing him. But he is a
+stout barbarian, and almost too much for me. Assist me in carrying him
+to the pavilion of Hunniades, and you shall have all the reward, and
+half the fame.”
+
+“You are a very civil spoken young gentleman,” said the Esquire. “I
+think I know your voice. Your name, if I mistake not, is Leckinski?”
+
+“A relative. We had a common ancestor.”
+
+“I thought so. I know the Leckinskies ever by their voice. I am free
+to help you on the terms you mention--all the reward and half the fame.
+‘Tis a strong barbarian, is it? We cannot cut his throat, or it will not
+divulge. All the reward and half the fame! I will be a knight to-morrow.
+It seems a sort of fish, and has a smell.”
+
+The Esquire seized the Shoulders of the prisoner, who would have spoken
+had he not been terrified by the threats of Iskander, who, carrying the
+legs of the sentinel, allowed the Polish gentleman to lead the way to
+the pavilion of Hunniades. Thither they soon arrived; and Iskander,
+dropping his burthen, and leaving the prisoner without to the charge of
+his assistant, entered the pavilion of the General of the Hungarians.
+
+He was stopped in a small outer apartment by an officer, who inquired
+his purpose, and to whom he repeated his desire to see the Hungarian
+leader, without loss of time, on important business. The officer
+hesitated; but, summoning several guards, left Iskander in their
+custody, and, stepping behind a curtain, disappeared. Iskander heard
+voices, but could distinguish no words. Soon the officer returned, and,
+ordering the guards to disarm and search Iskander, directed the Grecian
+Prince to follow him. Drawing aside the curtain, Iskander and his
+attendant entered a low apartment of considerable size. It was hung
+with skins. A variety of armour and dresses were piled on couches. A
+middle-aged man, of majestic appearance, muffled in a pelisse of furs,
+with long chestnut hair, and a cap of crimson velvet and ermine, was
+walking up and down the apartment, and dictating some instructions to a
+person who was kneeling on the ground, and writing by the bright flame
+of a brazen lamp. The bright flame of the blazing lamp fell full upon
+the face of the secretary. Iskander beheld a most beautiful woman.
+
+She looked up as Iskander entered. Her large dark eyes glanced through
+his soul. Her raven hair descended to her shoulders in many curls on
+each side of her face, and was braided with strings of immense pearls.
+A broad cap of white fox-skin crowned her whiter forehead. Her features
+were very small, but sharply moulded, and a delicate tint gave animation
+to her clear fair cheek. She looked up as Iskander entered, with an air
+rather of curiosity than embarrassment.
+
+Hunniades stopped, and examined his visitor with a searching
+inquisition. “Whence come you?” inquired the Hungarian chieftain.
+
+“From the Turkish camp,” was the answer.
+
+“An envoy or a deserter?”
+
+“Neither.”
+
+“What then?”
+
+“A convert.”
+
+“Your name?”
+
+“Lord Hunniades,” said Iskander, “that is for your private ear. I am
+unarmed, and were I otherwise, the first knight of Christendom can
+scarcely fear. I am one in birth and rank your equal; if not in fame, at
+least, I trust, in honour. My time is all-precious: I can scarcely stay
+here while my horse breathes. Dismiss your attendant.”
+
+Hunniades darted a glance at his visitor which would have baffled a
+weaker brain, but Iskander stood the scrutiny calm and undisturbed.
+“Go, Stanislaus,” said the Vaivode to the officer. “This lady, sir,”
+ continued the chieftain, “is my daughter, and one from whom I have no
+secrets.”
+
+Iskander bowed lowly as the officer disappeared.
+
+“And now,” said Hunniades, “to business. Your purpose?”
+
+“I am a Grecian Prince, and a compulsory ally of the Moslemin. In a
+word, my purpose here is to arrange a plan by which we may effect, at
+the same time, your triumph, and my freedom.”
+
+“To whom, then, have I the honour of speaking?” inquired Hunniades.
+
+“My name, great Hunniades, is perhaps not altogether unknown to you:
+they call me Iskander.”
+
+“What, the right arm of Amurath, the conqueror of Caramania, the
+flower of Turkish chivalry? Do I indeed behold that matchless warrior?”
+ exclaimed Hunniades, and he held forth his hand to his guest, and
+ungirding his own sword, offered it to the Prince. “Iduna” continued
+Hunniades, to his daughter, “you at length behold Iskander.”
+
+“My joy is great, sir,” replied Iduna, “if I indeed rightly understand
+that we may count the Prince Iskander a champion of the Cross.”
+
+Iskander took from his heart his golden crucifix, and kissed it before
+her. “This has been my companion and consolation for long years, lady,”
+ said Iskander; “you, perhaps, know my mournful history, Hunniades.
+Hitherto my pretended sovereign has not required me to bare my scimitar
+against my Christian brethren. That hour, however, has at length
+arrived, and it has decided me to adopt a line of conduct long
+meditated. Karam Bey who is aware of your necessities, the moment you
+commence your retreat, will attack you. I shall command his left wing.
+In spite of his superior power and position, draw up in array, and meet
+him with confidence. I propose, at a convenient moment in the day, to
+withdraw my troops, and with the Epirots hasten to my native country,
+and at once raise the standard of independence. It is a bold measure,
+but Success is the child of Audacity. We must assist each other with
+mutual diversions. Single-handed it is in vain for me to commence a
+struggle, which, with all adventitious advantages, will require the
+utmost exertion of energy, skill, and patience. But if yourself and
+the King Uladislaus occupy the armies of Amurath in Bulgaria, I am not
+without hope of ultimate success, since I have to inspire me all the
+most urgent interests of humanity, and combat, at the same time, for my
+God, my country, and my lawful crown.”
+
+“Brave Prince, I pledge you my troth,” said Hunniades, coming forward
+and seizing his hand; “and while Iskander and Hunniades live, they will
+never cease until they have achieved their great and holy end.”
+
+“It is a solemn compact,” said Iskander, “more sacred than if registered
+by all the scribes of Christendom. Lady Iduna, your prayers!”
+
+“They are ever with the champions of the Cross,” replied the daughter
+of Hunniades. She rose, the large cloak in which she was enveloped fell
+from her exquisite form. “Noble Iskander, this rosary is from the Holy
+Sepulchre,” continued Iduna; “wear it for the sake and memory of that
+blessed Saviour who died for our sins.”
+
+Iskander held forth his arm and touched her delicate hand as he received
+the rosary, which, pressing to his lips, he placed round his neck.
+
+“Great Hunniades,” said the Grecian Prince, “I must cross the mountains
+before dawn. Let me venture to entreat that we should hear to-morrow
+that the Christian camp is in retreat.”
+
+“Let it be even so,” said the Hungarian, after some thought, “and may
+to-morrow’s sun bring brighter days to Christendom.” And with these
+words terminated the brief and extraordinary visit of Iskander to the
+Christian general.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+
+The intelligence of the breaking up of the Christian camp, and the
+retreat of the Christian army, soon reached the Divan of Karam Bey, who
+immediately summoned Iskander to consult on the necessary operations.
+The chieftains agreed that instant pursuit was indispensable, and soon
+the savage Hæmus poured forth from its green bosom swarms of that light
+cavalry which was perhaps even a more fatal arm of the Turkish power
+than the famous Janissaries themselves. They hovered on the rear of the
+retreating Christians, charged the wavering, captured the unwary. It
+was impossible to resist their sudden and impetuous movements, which
+rendered their escape as secure as their onset was overwhelming. Wearied
+at length by the repeated assaults, Hunniades, who, attended by some
+chosen knights, had himself repaired to the rear, gave orders for the
+army to halt and offer battle.
+
+Their pursuers instantly withdrew to a distance, and gradually forming
+into two divisions, awaited the arrival of the advancing army of the
+Turks. The Moslemin came forward in fierce array, and with the sanguine
+courage inspired by expected triumph. Very conspicuous was Iskander
+bounding in his crimson vest upon his ebon steed and waving his gleaming
+scimitar.
+
+The Janissaries charged, calling upon Allah! with an awful shout. The
+Christian knights, invoking the Christian saints, received the Turks
+at the points of their lances. But many a noble lance was shivered that
+morn, and many a bold rider and worthy steed bit the dust of that field,
+borne down by the irresistible numbers of their fierce adversaries.
+Everywhere the balls and the arrows whistled through the air, and
+sometimes an isolated shriek heard amid the general clang, announced
+another victim to the fell and mysterious agency of the Greek fire.
+
+Hunniades, while he performed all the feats of an approved warrior,
+watched with anxiety the disposition of the Turkish troops. Hitherto,
+from the nature of their position, but a portion of both armies had
+interfered in the contest, and as yet Iskander had kept aloof. But now,
+as the battle each instant raged with more fury, and as it was evident
+that ere long the main force of both armies must be brought into
+collision, Hunniades, with a terrible suspense, watched whether the
+Grecian prince were willing or even capable of executing his plan.
+Without this fulfilment, the Christian hero could not conceal from
+himself that the day must be decided against the Cross.
+
+In the meantime Iskander marked the course of events with not less
+eagerness than Hunniades. Already Karam Bey had more than once summoned
+him to bring the Epirots into action. He assented; but an hour passed
+away without changing his position. At length, more from astonishment
+than rage, the Turkish commander sent his chief secretary Mousa himself
+to impress his wishes upon his colleague, and obtain some explanation
+of his views and conduct. Mousa found Iskander surrounded by some of the
+principal Epirot nobles, all mounted on horseback, and standing calmly
+under a wide-spreading plane tree. The chief secretary of Karam Bey
+was too skilful a courtier to permit his countenance to express his
+feelings, and he delivered himself of a mission rather as if he had come
+to request advice, than to communicate a reprimand.
+
+“Your master is a wise man, Mousa,” replied Iskander; “but even
+Karam Bey may be mistaken. He deems that a battle is not to be won by
+loitering under a shadowy tree. Now I differ with him, and I even mean
+to win this day by such a piece of truancy. However, it may certainly
+now be time for more active work. You smile encouragement, good Mousa.
+Giorgio, Demetrius, to your duty!”
+
+At these words, two stout Epirots advanced to the unfortunate secretary,
+seized and bound him, and placed him on horseback before one of their
+comrades.
+
+“Now all who love their country follow me!” exclaimed Iskander. So
+saying, and at the head of five thousand horsemen, Iskander quitted the
+field at a rapid pace.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+
+With incredible celerity Iskander and his cavalry dashed over the plains
+of Roumelia, and never halted, except for short and hurried intervals
+of rest and repose, until they had entered the mountainous borders of
+Epirus, and were within fifty miles of its capital, Croia. On the eve
+of entering the kingdom of his fathers, Iskander ordered his guards
+to produce the chief secretary of Karam Bey. Exhausted with fatigue,
+vexation, and terror, the disconsolate Mousa was led forward.
+
+“Cheer up, worthy Mousa!” said Iskander, lying his length on the green
+turf. “We have had a sharp ride; but I doubt not we shall soon find
+ourselves, by the blessing of God, in good quarters. There is a city at
+hand which they call Croia, and in which once, as the rumour runs, the
+son of my father should not have had to go seek for an entrance. No
+matter. Methinks, worthy Mousa, thou art the only man in our society
+that can sign thy name. Come now, write me an order signed Karam Bey
+to the governor of this said city, for its delivery up to the valiant
+champion of the Crescent, Iskander, and thou shalt ride in future at a
+pace more suitable to a secretary.”
+
+The worthy Mousa humbled himself to the ground, and then talking his
+writing materials from his girdle, inscribed the desired order, and
+delivered it to Iskander, who, glancing at the inscription, pushed it
+into his vest.
+
+“I shall proceed at once to Croia, with a few friends,” said Iskander;
+“do you, my bold companions, follow me this eve in various parties,
+and in various routes. At dead of the second night, collect in silence
+before the gates of Croia!”
+
+Thus speaking, Iskander called for his now refreshed charger, and,
+accompanied by two hundred horsemen, bade farewell for a brief period
+to his troops, and soon having crossed the mountains, descended into the
+fertile plains of Epirus.
+
+When the sun rose in the morning, Iskander and his friends beheld at the
+further end of the plain a very fine city shining in the light. It was
+surrounded with lofty turreted walls flanked by square towers, and was
+built upon a gentle eminence, which gave it a very majestic appearance.
+Behind it rose a lofty range of purple mountains of very picturesque
+form, and the highest peaks capped with snow. A noble lake, from which
+troops of wild fowl occasionally rose, expanded like a sheet of silver
+on one side of the city. The green breast of the contiguous hills
+sparkled with white houses.
+
+“Behold Croia!” exclaimed Iskander. “Our old fathers could choose
+a site, comrades. We shall see whether they expended their time and
+treasure for strangers, or their own seed.” So saying, he spurred his
+horse, and with panting hearts and smiling faces, Iskander and his
+company had soon arrived in the vicinity of the city.
+
+The city was surrounded by a beautiful region of corn-fields and
+fruit-trees. The road was arched with the over-hanging boughs. The birds
+chirped on every spray. It was a blithe and merry morn. Iskander plucked
+a bunch of olives as he cantered along. “Dear friends,” he said, looking
+round with an inspiring smile, “let us gather our first harvest!” And,
+thereupon, each putting forth his rapid hand, seized, as he rushed
+by, the emblem of possession, and following the example of his leader,
+placed it in his cap.
+
+They arrived at the gates of the city, which was strongly garrisoned;
+and Iskander, followed by his train, galloped up the height of the
+citadel. Alighting from his horse, he was ushered into the divan of the
+governor, an ancient Pacha, who received the conqueror of Caramania with
+all the respect that became so illustrious a champion of the Crescent.
+After the usual forms of ceremonious hospitality, Iskander, with a
+courteous air presented him the order for delivering up the citadel; and
+the old Pacha, resigning himself to the loss of his post with Oriental
+submission, instantly delivered the keys of the citadel and town to
+Iskander, and requested permission immediately to quit the scene of his
+late command.
+
+Quitting the citadel, Iskander now proceeded through the whole town, and
+in the afternoon reviewed the Turkish garrison in the great square. As
+the late governor was very anxious to quit Croia that very day, Iskander
+insisted on a considerable portion of the garrison accompanying him as a
+guard of honour, and returning the next morning. The rest he divided in
+several quarters, and placed the gates in charge of his own companions.
+
+At midnight the Epirots, faithful to their orders, arrived and united
+beneath the walls of the city, and after inter-changing the signals
+agreed upon, the gates were opened. A large body instantly marched
+and secured the citadel. The rest, conducted by appointed leaders,
+surrounded the Turks in their quarters. And suddenly, in the noon of
+night, in that great city, arose a clang so dreadful that people leapt
+up from their sleep and stared with stupor. Instantly the terrace of
+every house blazed with torches, and it became as light as day. Troops
+of armed men were charging down the streets, brandishing their scimitars
+and yataghans, and exclaiming, “The Cross, the Cross!” “Liberty!”
+ “Greece!” “Iskander and Epirus!” The townsmen recognised their
+countrymen by their language and their dress. The name of Iskander
+acted as a spell. They stopt not to inquire. A magic sympathy at once
+persuaded them that this great man had, by the grace of Heaven, recurred
+to the creed and country of his fathers. And so every townsman, seizing
+the nearest weapon, with a spirit of patriotic frenzy, rushed into
+the streets, crying out, “The Cross, the Cross!” “Liberty!” “Greece!”
+ “Iskander and Epirus!” Ay! even the women lost all womanly fears,
+and stimulated instead of soothing the impulse of their masters. They
+fetched them arms, they held the torches, they sent them forth with vows
+and prayers and imprecations, their children clinging to their robes,
+and repeating with enthusiasm, phrases which they could not comprehend.
+
+The Turks fought with the desperation of men who feel that they are
+betrayed, and must be victims. The small and isolated bodies were soon
+massacred, all with cold steel, for at this time, although some of the
+terrible inventions of modern warfare were introduced, their use was not
+general. The citadel, indeed, was fortified with cannon; but the greater
+part of the soldiery trusted to their crooked swords, and their unerring
+javelins. The main force of the Turkish garrison had been quartered in
+an old palace of the Archbishop, situate in the middle of the city on a
+slightly rising and open ground, a massy building of rustic stone. Here
+the Turks, although surrounded, defended themselves desperately, using
+their cross bows with terrible effect; and hither, the rest of the city
+being now secured, Iskander himself repaired to achieve its complete
+deliverance.
+
+The Greeks had endeavoured to carry the principal entrance of the palace
+by main force, but the strength of the portal had resisted their utmost
+exertions, and the arrows of the besieged had at length forced them to
+retire to a distance. Iskander directed that two pieces of cannon should
+be dragged down from the citadel, and then played against the entrance.
+In the meantime, he ordered immense piles of damp faggots to be lit
+before the building, the smoke of which prevented the besieged from
+taking any aim. The ardour of the people was so great that the cannon
+were soon served against the palace, and their effects were speedily
+remarked. The massy portal shook; a few blows of the battering ram, and
+it fell. The Turks sallied forth, were received with a shower of Greek
+fire, and driven in with agonising yells. Some endeavoured to escape
+from the windows, and were speared or cut down; some appeared wringing
+their hands in despair upon the terraced roof. Suddenly the palace was
+announced to be on fire. A tall white-blueish flame darted up from a
+cloud of smoke, and soon, as if by magic, the whole back of the building
+was encompassed with rising tongues of red and raging light. Amid a
+Babel of shrieks, and shouts, and cheers, and prayers, and curses,
+the roof of the palace fell in with a crash, which produced amid the
+besiegers an awful and momentary silence, but in an instant they started
+from their strange inactivity, and rushing forward, leapt into the
+smoking ruins, and at the same time completed the massacre and achieved
+their freedom.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+
+At break of dawn Iskander sent couriers throughout all Epirus,
+announcing the fall of Croia, and that he had raised the standard
+of independence in his ancient country. He also despatched a trusty
+messenger to Prince Nicæus at Athens, and to the great Hunniades.
+The people were so excited throughout all Epirus, at this great and
+unthought-of intelligence, that they simultaneously rose in all the open
+country, and massacred the Turks, and the towns were only restrained in
+a forced submission to Amurath, by the strong garrisons of the Sultan.
+
+Now Iskander was very anxious to effect the removal of these garrisons
+without loss of time, in order that if Amurath sent a great power
+against him, as he expected, the invading army might have nothing to
+rely upon but its own force, and that his attention might not in any way
+be diverted from effecting their overthrow. Therefore, as soon as his
+troops had rested, and he had formed his new recruits into some order,
+which, with their willing spirits, did not demand many days, Iskander
+set out from Croia, at the head of twelve thousand men, and marched
+against the strong city of Petrella, meeting in his way the remainder of
+the garrison of Croia on their return, who surrendered themselves to him
+at discretion. Petrella was only one day’s march from Croia, and when
+Iskander arrived there he requested a conference with the governor, and
+told his tale so well, representing the late overthrow of the Turks by
+Hunniades, and the incapacity of Amurath at present to relieve him,
+that the Turkish commander agreed to deliver up the place, and leave the
+country with his troops, particularly as the alternative of Iskander to
+these easy terms was ever conquest without quarter. And thus, by a happy
+mixture of audacity and adroitness, the march of Iskander throughout
+Epirus was rather like a triumph than a campaign, the Turkish garrisons
+imitating, without any exception, the conduct of their comrades at
+Petrella, and dreading the fate of their comrades at the capital. In
+less than a month Iskander returned to Epirus, having delivered the
+whole country from the Moslemin yoke.
+
+Hitherto Iskander had heard nothing either of Hunniades or Nicæus. He
+learnt, therefore, with great interest, as he passed through the
+gates of the city, that the Prince of Athens had arrived at Croia
+the preceding eve, and also that his messenger had returned from
+the Hungarian camp. Amid the acclamations of an enthusiastic people,
+Iskander once more ascended the citadel of Croia. Nicæus received him at
+the gate. Iskander sprang from his horse, and embraced his friend.
+Hand in hand, and followed by their respective trains, they entered the
+fortress palace.
+
+“Dear friend,” said Iskander, when they were once more alone, “you see
+we were right not to despair. Two months have scarcely elapsed since we
+parted without prospect, or with the most gloomy one, and now we are in
+a fair way of achieving all that we can desire. Epirus is free!”
+
+“I came to claim my share in its emancipation,” said Nicæus, with a
+smile, “but Iskander is another Cæsar!”
+
+“You will have many opportunities yet, believe me, Nicæus, of proving
+your courage and your patriotism,” replied Iskander; “Amurath will never
+allow this affair to pass over in this quiet manner. I did not commence
+this struggle without a conviction that it would demand all the energy
+and patience of a long life. I shall be rewarded if I leave freedom
+as an heritage to my countrymen; but for the rest, I feel that I bid
+farewell to every joy of life, except the ennobling consciousness of
+performing a noble duty. In the meantime, I understand a messenger
+awaits me here from the great Hunniades. Unless that shield of
+Christendom maintain himself in his present position, our chance of
+ultimate security is feeble. With his constant diversion in Bulgaria,
+we may contrive here to struggle into success. You sometimes laugh at
+my sanguine temper, Nicæus. To say the truth, I am more serene than
+sanguine, and was never more conscious of the strength of my opponent
+than now, when it appears that I have beaten him. Hark! the people
+cheer. I love the people, Nicæus, who are ever influenced by genuine and
+generous feelings. They cheer as if they had once more gained a country.
+Alas! they little know what they must endure even at the best. Nay!
+look not gloomy; we have done great things, and will do more. Who waits
+without there? Demetrius! Call the messenger from Lord Hunniades.”
+
+An Epirot bearing a silken packet was now introduced, which he delivered
+to Iskander. Reverently touching the hand of his chieftain, the
+messenger then kissed his own and withdrew. Iskander broke the seal, and
+drew forth a letter from the silken cover.
+
+“So! this is well!” exclaimed the prince, with great animation, as he
+threw his quick eye over the letter. “As I hoped and deemed, a most
+complete victory. Karam Bey himself a prisoner, baggage, standards,
+great guns, treasure. Brave soldier of the Cross! (may I prove so!) Your
+perfectly-devised movement, (poh, poh!) Hah! what is this?” exclaimed
+Iskander, turning pale; his lip quivered, his eye looked dim. He walked
+to an arched window. His companion, who supposed that he was reading,
+did not disturb him.
+
+“Poor, poor Hunniades!” at length exclaimed Iskander, shaking his head.
+
+“What of him?” inquired Nicæus, quickly.
+
+“The sharpest accident of war!” replied Iskander. “It quite clouds my
+spirit. We must forget these things, we must forget. Epirus! he is not
+a patriot who can spare a thought from thee. And yet, so young, so
+beautiful, so gifted, so worthy of a hero! when I saw her by her great
+father’s side, sharing his toils, aiding his councils, supplying his
+necessities, methought I gazed upon a ministering angel! upon--”
+
+“Stop, stop in mercy’s name, Iskander!” exclaimed Nicæus, in a very
+agitated tone. “What is all this? Surely no, surely not, surely Iduna--”
+
+“‘Tis she!”
+
+“Dead?” exclaimed Nicæus, rushing up to his companion, and seizing his
+arm.
+
+“Worse, much worse!”
+
+“God of Heaven!” exclaimed the young Prince, with almost a frantic air.
+“Tell me all, tell me all! This suspense fires my brain. Iskander, you
+know not what this woman is to me; the sole object of my being, the
+bane, the blessing of my life! Speak, dear friend, speak! I beseech you!
+Where is Iduna?”
+
+“A prisoner to the Turk.”
+
+“Iduna a prisoner to the Turk. I’ll not believe it! Why do we wear
+swords? Where’s chivalry? Iduna, a prisoner to the Turk! ‘Tis false. It
+cannot be. Iskander, you are a coward! I am a coward! All are cowards! A
+prisoner to the Turk! Iduna! What, the Rose of Christendom! has it been
+plucked by such a turbaned dog as Amurath? Farewell, Epirus! Farewell,
+classic Athens! Farewell, bright fields of Greece, and dreams that made
+them brighter! The sun of all my joy and hope is set, and set for ever!”
+
+So saying, Nicæus, tearing his hair and garments, flung himself upon the
+floor, and hid his face in his robes.
+
+Iskander paced the room with a troubled step and thoughtful brow. After
+some minutes he leant down by the Prince of Athens, and endeavoured to
+console him.
+
+“It is in vain, Iskander, it is in vain,” said Nicæus. “I wish to die.”
+
+“Were I a favoured lover, in such a situation,” replied Iskander, “I
+should scarcely consider death my duty, unless the sacrifice of myself
+preserved my mistress.”
+
+“Hah!” exclaimed Nicæus, starting from the ground. “Do you conceive,
+then, the possibility of rescuing her?”
+
+“If she live, she is a prisoner in the Seraglio at Adrianople. You are
+as good a judge as myself of the prospect that awaits your exertions.
+It is, without doubt, a difficult adventure, but such, methinks, as a
+Christian knight should scarcely shun.”
+
+“To horse;” exclaimed Nicæus, “to horse--And yet what can I do? Were she
+in any other place but the capital I might rescue her by force, but in
+the heart of their empire, it is impossible. Is there no ransom that can
+tempt the Turk? My principality would rise in the balance beside this
+jewel.”
+
+“That were scarcely wise, and certainly not just,” replied Iskander;
+“but ransom will be of no avail. Hunniades has already offered to
+restore Karam Bey, and all the prisoners of rank, and the chief
+trophies, and Amurath has refused to listen to any terms. The truth is,
+Iduna has found favour in the eyes of his son, the young Mahomed.”
+
+“Holy Virgin! hast thou no pity on this Christian maid?” exclaimed
+Nicæus. “The young Mahomed! Shall this licentious infidel--ah!
+Iskander, dear, dear Iskander, you who have so much wisdom, and so much
+courage; you who can devise all things, and dare all things; help me,
+help me; on my knees I do beseech you, take up this trying cause of foul
+oppression, and for the sake of all you love and reverence, your creed,
+your country, and perchance your friend, let your great genius, like
+some solemn angel, haste to the rescue of the sweet Iduna, and save her,
+save her!”
+
+“Some thoughts like these were rising in my mind when first I spoke,”
+ replied Iskander. “This is a better cue, far more beseeming princes than
+boyish tears, and all the outward misery of woe, a tattered garment
+and dishevelled locks. Come, Nicæus, we have to struggle with a mighty
+fortune. Let us be firm as Fate itself.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+
+Immediately after his interview with Nicæus, Iskander summoned some of
+the chief citizens of Croia to the citadel, and submitting to them his
+arrangements for the administration of Epirus, announced the necessity
+of his instant departure for a short interval; and the same evening, ere
+the moon had risen, himself and the Prince of Athens quitted the city,
+and proceeded in the direction of Adrianople. They travelled with great
+rapidity until they reached a small town upon the frontiers, where they
+halted for one day. Here, in the Bazaar, Iskander purchased for himself
+the dress of an Armenian physician. In his long dark robes, and large
+round cap of black wool, his face and hands stained, and his beard and
+mustachios shaven, it seemed impossible that he could be recognised.
+Nicæus was habited as his page, in a dress of coarse red cloth, setting
+tight to his form, with a red cap, with a long blue tassel. He carried a
+large bag containing drugs, some surgical instruments, and a few books.
+In this guise, as soon as the gates were open on the morrow, Iskander,
+mounted on a very small mule, and Nicæus on a very large donkey, the
+two princes commenced the pass of the mountainous range, an arm of the
+Balkan which divided Epirus from Roumelia.
+
+“I broke the wind of the finest charger in all Asia when I last ascended
+these mountains,” said Iskander; “I hope this day’s journey way be
+accepted as a sort of atonement.”
+
+“Faith! there is little doubt I am the best mounted of the two,” said
+Nicæus. “However, I hope we shall return at a sharper pace.”
+
+“How came it, my Nicæus,” said Iskander, “that you never mentioned to me
+the name of Iduna when we were at Athens? I little supposed when I made
+my sudden visit to Hunniades, that I was about to appeal to so fair a
+host. She is a rarely gifted lady.”
+
+“I knew of her being at the camp as little as yourself,” replied the
+Prince of Athens, “and for the rest, the truth is, Iskander, there
+are some slight crosses in our loves, which Time, I hope, will fashion
+rightly.” So saying Nicæus pricked on his donkey, and flung his stick
+at a bird which was perched on the branch of a tree. Iskander did not
+resume a topic to which his companion seemed disinclined. Their journey
+was tedious. Towards nightfall they reached the summit of the usual
+track; and as the descent was difficult, they were obliged to rest until
+daybreak.
+
+On the morrow they had a magnificent view of the rich plains of
+Roumelia, and in the extreme distance, the great city of Adrianople,
+its cupolas and minarets blazing and sparkling in the sun. This glorious
+prospect at once revived all their energies. It seemed that the moment
+of peril and of fate had arrived. They pricked on their sorry steeds;
+and on the morning of the next day, presented themselves at the gates of
+the city. The thorough knowledge which Iskander possessed of the Turkish
+character obtained them an entrance, which was at one time almost
+doubtful, from the irritability and impatience of Nicæus. They repaired
+to a caravansera of good repute in the neighbourhood of the seraglio;
+and having engaged their rooms, the Armenian physician, attended by his
+page, visited several of the neighbouring coffee-houses, announcing, at
+the same time, his arrival, his profession, and his skill.
+
+As Iskander felt pulses, examined tongues, and distributed drugs and
+charms, he listened with interest and amusement to the conversation of
+which he himself was often the hero. He found that the Turks had not
+yet recovered from their consternation at his audacity and success. They
+were still wondering, and if possible more astounded than indignant.
+The politicians of the coffee-houses, chiefly consisting of Janissaries,
+were loud in their murmurs. The popularity of Amurath had vanished
+before the triumph of Hunniades, and the rise of Iskander.
+
+“But Allah has in some instances favoured the faithful,” remarked
+Iskander; “I heard in my travels of your having captured a great
+princess of the Giaours.”
+
+“God is great!” said an elderly Turk with a long white heard. “The Hakim
+congratulates the faithful because they have taken a woman!”
+
+“Not so merely,” replied Iskander; “I heard the woman was a princess. If
+so, the people of Franguestan will pay any ransom for their great women;
+and, by giving up this fair Giaour, you may free many of the faithful.”
+
+“Mashallah!” said another ancient Turk, sipping his coffee. “The Hakim
+speaks wisely.”
+
+“May I murder my mother!” exclaimed a young Janissary, with great
+indignation. “But this is the very thing that makes me wild against
+Amurath. Is not this princess a daughter of that accursed Giaour, that
+dog of dogs, Hunniades? and has he not offered for her ransom our brave
+Karam Bey himself, and his chosen warriors? and has not Amurath said
+nay? And why has he said nay? Because his son, the Prince of Mahomed,
+instead of fighting against the Giaours, has looked upon one of their
+women, and has become a Mejnoun. Pah! May I murder my mother, but if the
+Giaours were in full march to the city, I’d not fight. And let him tell
+this to the Cadi who dares; for there are ten thousand of us, and we
+have sworn by the Kettle but we will not fight for Giaours, or those who
+love Giaours!”
+
+“If you mean me, Ali, about going to the Cadi,” said the chief eunuch of
+Mahomed, who was standing by, “let me tell you I am no tale-bearer,
+and scorn to do an unmanly act. The young prince can beat the Giaours
+without the aid of those who are noisy enough in a coffee-house when
+they are quiet enough in the field. And, for the rest of the business,
+you may all ease your hearts; for the Frangy princess you talk of is
+pining away, and will soon die. The Sultan has offered a hundred purses
+of gold to any one who cures her; but the gold will never be counted by
+the Hasnadar, or I will double it.”
+
+“Try your fortune, Hakim,” said several laughing loungers to Iskander.
+
+“Allah has stricken the Frangy princess,” said the old Turk with a white
+beard.
+
+“He will strike all Giaours,” said his ancient companion, sipping his
+coffee. “It is so written.”
+
+“Well! I do not like to hear of women slaves pining to death,” said the
+young Janissary, in a softened tone, “particularly when they are young.
+Amurath should have ransomed her, or he might have given her to one of
+his officers, or any young fellow that had particularly distinguished
+himself.” And so, twirling his mustachios, and flinging down his
+piastre, the young Janissary strutted out of the coffee-house.
+
+“When we were young,” said the old Turk with the white beard to his
+companion, shaking his head, “when we were young--”
+
+“We conquered Anatolia, and never opened our mouths,” rejoined his
+companion.
+
+“I never offered an opinion till I was sixty,” said the old Turk; “and
+then it was one which had been in our family for a century.”
+
+“No wonder Hunniades carries everything before him,” said his companion.
+
+“And that accursed Iskander,” said the old man.
+
+The chief eunuch, finishing his vase of sherbet, moved away. The
+Armenian physician followed him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+
+The chief eunuch turned into a burial-ground, through which a way led,
+by an avenue of cypress-trees, to the quarter of the Seraglio. The
+Armenian physician, accompanied by his page, followed him.
+
+“Noble sir!” said the Armenian physician; “may I trespass for a moment
+on your lordship’s attention?”
+
+“Worthy Hakim, is it you?” replied the chief eunuch, turning round with
+an encouraging smile of courteous condescension, “your pleasure?”
+
+“I would speak to you of important matters,” said the physician.
+
+The eunuch carelessly seated himself on a richly-carved tomb, and
+crossing his legs with an air of pleasant superiority, adjusted a fine
+emerald that sparkled on his finger, and bade the Hakim address him
+without hesitation.
+
+“I am a physician,” said the Armenian.
+
+The eunuch nodded.
+
+“And I heard your lordship in the coffee-house mention that the Sultan,
+our sublime Master, had offered a rich reward to any one who could
+effect the cure of a favourite captive.”
+
+“No less a reward than one hundred purses of gold,” remarked the eunuch.
+“The reward is proportioned to the exigency of the cue. Believe me,
+worthy sir, it is desperate.”
+
+“With mortal means,” replied the Armenian; “but I possess a talisman of
+magical influence, which no disorder can resist. I would fain try its
+efficacy.”
+
+“This is not the first talisman that has been offered us, worthy
+doctor,” said the eunuch, smiling incredulously.
+
+“But the first that has been offered on these terms,” said the Armenian.
+“Let me cure the captive, and of the one hundred purses, a moiety shall
+belong to yourself. Ay! so confident am I of success, that I deem it
+no hazard to commence our contract by this surety.” And so saying, the
+Armenian took from his finger a gorgeous carbuncle, and offered it to
+the eunuch. The worthy dependent of the Seraglio had a great taste in
+jewellery. He examined the stone with admiration, and placed it on
+his finger with complacency. “I require no inducements to promote the
+interests of science, and the purposes of charity,” said the eunuch,
+with a patronising air. “‘Tis assuredly a pretty stone, and, as the
+memorial of an ingenious stranger, whom I respect, I shall, with
+pleasure, retain it. You were saying something about a talisman. Are
+you serious? I doubt not that there are means which might obtain you the
+desired trial; but the Prince Mahomed is as violent when displeased or
+disappointed as munificent when gratified. Cure this Christian captive,
+and we may certainly receive the promised purses: fail, and your head
+will as assuredly be flung into the Seraglio moat, to say nothing of my
+own.”
+
+“Most noble sir!” said the physician, “I am willing to undertake the
+experiment on the terms you mention. Rest assured that the patient, if
+alive, must, with this remedy, speedily recover. You marvel! Believe
+me, had you witnessed the cures which it has already effected, you would
+only wonder at its otherwise incredible influence.”
+
+“You have the advantage,” replied the eunuch, “of addressing a man who
+has seen something of the world. I travel every year to Anatolia with
+the Prince Mahomed. Were I a narrow-minded bigot, and had never been
+five miles from Adrianople in the whole course of my life, I might
+indeed be sceptical. But I am a patron of science, and have heard of
+talismans. How much might this ring weigh, think you?”
+
+“I have heard it spoken of as a carbuncle of uncommon size,” replied the
+Armenian.
+
+“Where did you say you lodged, Hakim?”
+
+“At the Khan of Bedreddin.”
+
+“A very proper dwelling. Well, we shall see. Have you more jewels? I
+might, perhaps, put you in the way of parting with some at good prices.
+The Khan of Bedreddin is very conveniently situated. I may, perhaps,
+towards evening, taste your coffee at the Khan of Bedreddin, and we will
+talk of this said talisman. Allah be with you, worthy Hakim!” The eunuch
+nodded, not without encouragement, and went his way.
+
+“Anxiety alone enabled me to keep my countenance,” said Nicæus. “A
+patron of science, forsooth! Of all the insolent, shallow-brained,
+rapacious coxcombs--”
+
+“Hush, my friend!” said Iskander, with a smile. “The chief eunuch of
+the heir apparent of the Turkish empire is a far greater man than a poor
+prince, or a proscribed rebel. This worthy can do our business, and I
+trust will. He clearly bites, and a richer bait will, perhaps, secure
+him. In the meantime, we must be patient, and remember whose destiny is
+at stake.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+
+The chief eunuch did not keep the adventurous companions long in
+suspense; for, before the muezzin had announced the close of day from
+the minarets, he had reached the Khan of Bedreddin, and inquired for the
+Armenian physician.
+
+“We have no time to lose,” said the eunuch to Iskander. “Bring with you
+whatever you may require, and follow me.”
+
+The eunuch led the way, Iskander and Nicæus maintaining a respectful
+distance. After proceeding down several streets, they arrived at the
+burial-ground, where they had conversed in the morning; and when they
+had entered that more retired spot, the eunuch fell back, and addressed
+his companion.
+
+“Now, worthy Hakim,” he said, “if you deceive me, I will never patronize
+a man of science again. I found an opportunity of speaking to the
+Prince this afternoon of your talisman, and he has taken from my
+representations such a fancy for its immediate proof, that I found it
+quite impossible to postpone its trial even until to-morrow. I mentioned
+the terms. I told the Prince your life was the pledge. I said nothing
+of the moiety of the reward, worthy Hakim. That is an affair between
+ourselves. I trust to your honour, and I always act thus with men of
+science.”
+
+“I shall not disgrace my profession or your confidence, rest assured,”
+ replied Iskander. “And am I to see the captive to-night?”
+
+“I doubt it not. Are you prepared? We might, perhaps, gain a little
+time, if very necessary.”
+
+“By no means, sir; Truth is ever prepared.”
+
+Thus conversing, they passed through the burial-ground, and approached
+some high, broad walls, forming a terrace, and planted with young
+sycamore-trees. The eunuch tapped with his silver stick, at a small
+gate, which opened, and admitted them into a garden, full of large
+clumps of massy shrubs. Through these a winding walk led for some way,
+and then conducted them to an open lawn, on which was situate a vast
+and irregular building. As they approached the pile, a young man of
+very imperious aspect rushed forward from a gate, and abruptly accosted
+Iskander.
+
+“Are you the Armenian physician?” he inquired.
+
+Iskander bowed assent.
+
+“Have you got your talisman? You know the terms? Cure this Christian
+girl and you shall name your own reward; fail, and I shall claim your
+forfeit head.”
+
+“The terms are well understood, mighty Prince,” said Iskander, for the
+young man was no less a personage than the son of Amurath, and future
+conqueror of Constantinople; “but I am confident there will be no
+necessity for the terror of Christendom claiming any other heads than
+those of his enemies.”
+
+“Kaflis will conduct you at once to your patient,” said Mahomed. “For
+myself, I cannot rest until I know the result of your visit. I shall
+wander about these gardens, and destroy the flowers, which is the only
+pleasure now left me.”
+
+Kaflis motioned to his companions to advance, and they entered the
+Seraglio.
+
+At the end of a long gallery they came to a great portal, which Kaflis
+opened, and Iskander and Nicæus for a moment supposed that they had
+arrived at the chief hall of the Tower of Babel, but they found the
+shrill din only proceeded from a large company of women, who were
+employed in distilling the rare atar of the jasmine flower. All their
+voices ceased on the entrance of the strangers, as if by a miracle; but
+when they had examined them, and observed that it was only a physician
+and his boy, their awe, or their surprise, disappeared; and they crowded
+round Iskander, some holding out their wrists, others lolling out their
+tongues, and some asking questions, which perplexed alike the skill
+and the modesty of the adventurous dealer in magical medicine. The
+annoyance, however, was not of great duration, for Kaflis so belaboured
+their fair shoulders with his official baton, that they instantly
+retreated with precipitation, uttering the most violent shrieks, and
+bestowing on the eunuch so many titles, that Iskander and his page were
+quite astounded at the intuitive knowledge which the imprisoned damsels
+possessed of that vocabulary of abuse, which is in general mastered only
+by the experience of active existence.
+
+Quitting this chamber, the eunuch and his companions ascended a lofty
+staircase. They halted at length before a door. “This is the chamber of
+the tower,” said their guide, “and here we shall find the fair captive.”
+ He knocked, the door was opened by a female slave, and Iskander and
+Nicæus, with an anxiety they could with difficulty conceal, were ushered
+into a small but sumptuous apartment. In the extremity was a recess
+covered with a light gauzy curtain. The eunuch bidding them keep in the
+background, advanced, and cautiously withdrawing the curtain slightly
+aside, addressed some words in a low voice to the inmate of the recess.
+In a few minutes the eunuch beckoned to Iskander to advance, and
+whispered to him: “She would not at first see you, but I have told her
+you are a Christian, the more the pity, and she consents.” So saying,
+he withdrew the curtain, and exhibited a veiled female figure lying on a
+couch.
+
+“Noble lady,” said the physician in Greek, which he had ascertained
+the eunuch did not comprehend; “pardon the zeal of a Christian friend.
+Though habited in this garb, I have served under your illustrious sire.
+I should deem my life well spent in serving the daughter of the great
+Hunniades.”
+
+“Kind stranger,” replied the captive, “I was ill prepared for such a
+meeting. I thank you for your sympathy, but my sad fortunes are beyond
+human aid.”
+
+“God works by humble instruments, noble lady,” said Iskander, “and with
+his blessing we may yet prosper.”
+
+“I fear that I must look to death as my only refuge,” replied Iduna,
+“and still more, I fear that it is not so present a refuge as my
+oppressors themselves imagine. But you are a physician; tell me then how
+speedily Nature will make me free.”
+
+She held forth her hand, which Iskander took and involuntarily pressed.
+“Noble lady,” he said, “my skill is a mere pretence to enter these
+walls. The only talisman I bear with me is a message from your friends.”
+
+“Indeed!” said Iduna, in an agitated tone.
+
+“Restrain yourself, noble lady,” said Iskander, interposing, “restrain
+yourself. Were you any other but the daughter of Hunniades I would not
+have ventured upon this perilous exploit. But I know that the Lady Iduna
+has inherited something more than the name of her great ancestors--their
+heroic soul. If ever there were a moment in her life in which it behoved
+her to exert all her energies, that moment has arrived. The physician
+who addresses her, and his attendant who waits at hand, are two of the
+Lady Iduna’s most devoted friends. There is nothing that they will not
+hazard, to effect her delivery; and they have matured a plan of escape
+which they are sanguine must succeed. Yet its completion will require,
+on her part, great anxiety of mind, greater exertion of body, danger,
+fatigue, privation. Is the Lady Iduna prepared for all this endurance,
+and all this hazard?”
+
+“Noble friend,” replied Iduna, “for I cannot deem you a stranger, and
+none but a most chivalric knight could have entered upon this almost
+forlorn adventure; you have not, I trust, miscalculated my character. I
+am a slave, and unless heaven will interpose, must soon be a dishonoured
+one. My freedom and my fame are alike at stake. There is no danger, and
+no suffering which I will not gladly welcome, provided there be even a
+remote chance of regaining my liberty and securing my honour.”
+
+“You are in the mind I counted on. Now, mark my words, dear lady. Seize
+an opportunity this evening of expressing to your gaolers that you have
+already experienced some benefit from my visit, and announce your rising
+confidence in my skill. In the meantime I will make such a report that
+our daily meetings will not be difficult. For the present, farewell. The
+Prince Mahomed waits without, and I would exchange some words with him
+before I go.”
+
+“And must we part without my being acquainted with the generous friends
+to whom I am indebted for an act of devotion which almost reconciles me
+to my sad fate?” said Iduna. “You will not, perhaps, deem the implicit
+trust reposed in you by one whom you have no interest to deceive, and
+who, if deceived, cannot be placed in a worse position than she at
+present fills, as a very gratifying mark of confidence, yet that trust
+is reposed in you; and let me, at least, soothe the galling dreariness
+of my solitary hours, by the recollection of the friends to whom I am
+indebted for a deed of friendship which has filled me with a feeling of
+wonder from which I have not yet recovered.”
+
+“The person who has penetrated the Seraglio of Constantinople in
+disguise to rescue the Lady Iduna,” answered Iskander, “is the Prince
+Nicæus.”
+
+“Nicæus!” exclaimed Iduna, in an agitated tone. “The voice to which I
+listen is surely not that of the Prince Nicæus; nor the form on which I
+gaze,” she added, as she unveiled. Beside her stood the tall figure
+of the Armenian physician. She beheld his swarthy and unrecognised
+countenance. She cast her dark eyes around with an air of beautiful
+perplexity.
+
+“I am a friend of the Prince Nicæus,” said the physician. “He is here.
+Shall he advance? Alexis,” called cut, Iskander, not waiting for
+her reply. The page of the physician came forward, but the eunuch
+accompanied him. “All is right,” said Iskander to Kaflis. “We are sure
+of our hundred purses. But, without doubt, with any other aid, the case
+were desperate.”
+
+“There is but one God,” said the eunuch, polishing his carbuncle, with a
+visage radiant as the gem. “I never repented patronizing men of science.
+The prince waits without. Come along!” He took Iskander by the arm.
+“Where is your boy? What are you doing there, sir?” inquired the eunuch,
+sharply, of Nicæus, who, was tarrying behind, and kissing the hand of
+Iduna.
+
+“I was asking the lady for a favour to go to the coffee-house with;”
+ replied Nicæus, “you forget that I am to have none of the hundred
+purses.”
+
+“True,” said the eunuch; “there is something in that. Here, boy, here
+is a piastre for you. I like to encourage men of science, and all that
+belong to them. Do not go and spend it all in one morning, boy, and when
+the fair captive is cured, if you remind me, boy, perhaps I may give you
+another.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+
+Kaflis and his charge again reached the garden. The twilight was nearly
+past. A horseman galloped up to them, followed by several running
+footmen. It was the prince.
+
+“Well, Hakim,” he inquired, in his usual abrupt style, “can you cure
+her?”
+
+“Yes;” answered Iskander, firmly.
+
+“Now listen, Hakim,” said Mahomed. “I must very shortly leave the city,
+and proceed into Epirus at the head of our troops. I have sworn two
+things, and I have sworn them by the holy stone. Ere the new moon, I
+will have the heart of Iduna and the head of Iskander!”
+
+The physician bowed.
+
+“If you can so restore the health of this Frangy girl,” continued
+Mahomed, “that she may attend me within ten days into Epirus, you shall
+claim from my treasury what sum you like, and become physician to the
+Seraglio. What say you?”
+
+“My hope and my belief is,” replied Iskander, “that within ten days she
+may breathe the air of Epirus.”
+
+“By my father’s beard, you are a man after my own heart,” exclaimed the
+prince; “and since thou dealest in talismans, Hakim, can you give me a
+charm that you will secure me a meeting with this Epirot rebel within
+the term, so that I may keep my oath. What say you? what say you?”
+
+“There are such spells,” replied Iskander. “But mark, I can only secure
+the meeting, not the head.”
+
+“That is my part,” said Mahomed, with an arrogant sneer. “But the
+meeting, the meeting?”
+
+“You know the fountain of Kallista in Epirus. Its virtues are renowned.”
+
+“I have beard of it.”
+
+“Plunge your scimitar in its midnight waters thrice, on the eve of the
+new moon, and each time summon the enemy you would desire to meet. He
+will not fail you.”
+
+“If you cure the captive, I will credit the legend, and keep the
+appointment,” replied Mahomed, thoughtfully.
+
+“I have engaged to do that,” replied the physician.
+
+“Well, then, I shall redeem my pledge,” said the prince
+
+“But mind,” said the physician, “while I engage to cure the lady and
+produce the warrior, I can secure your highness neither the heart of the
+one nor the head of the other.”
+
+“‘Tis understood,” said Mahomed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+
+The Armenian physician did not fail to attend his captive patient at an
+early hour on the ensuing morn. His patron Kaflis received him with an
+encouraging smile.
+
+“The talisman already works;” said the eunuch: “she has passed a good
+night, and confesses to an improvement. Our purses are safe. Methinks
+I already count the gold. But I say, worthy Hakim, come hither, come
+hither,” and Kaflis looked around to be sure that no one was within
+hearing, “I say,” and here he put on a very mysterious air indeed, “the
+prince is generous; you understand? We go shares. We shall not quarrel.
+I never yet repented patronizing a man of science, and I am sure I never
+shall. The prince, you see, is violent, but generous. I would not cure
+her too soon, eh?”
+
+“You take a most discreet view of affairs,” responded Iskander, with an
+air of complete assent, and they entered the chamber of the tower.
+
+Iduna performed her part with great dexterity; but, indeed, it required
+less skill than herself and her advisers had at first imagined. Her
+malady, although it might have ended fatally, was in its origin entirely
+mental, and the sudden prospect of freedom, and of restoration to her
+country and her family, at a moment when she had delivered herself up to
+despair, afforded her a great and instantaneous benefit. She could not,
+indeed, sufficiently restrain her spirits, and smiled incredulously when
+Iskander mentioned the impending exertion and fatigues with doubt and
+apprehension. His anxiety to return immediately to Epirus, determined
+him to adopt the measures for her rescue without loss of time, and on
+his third visit, he prepared her for making the great attempt on the
+ensuing morn. Hitherto Iskander had refrained from revealing himself to
+Iduna. He was induced to adopt this conduct by various considerations.
+He could no longer conceal from himself that the daughter of Hunniades
+exercised an influence over his feelings which he was unwilling to
+encourage. His sincere friendship for Nicæus, and his conviction that It
+was his present duty to concentrate all his thought and affection in the
+cause of his country, would have rendered him anxious to have resisted
+any emotions of the kind, even could he have flattered himself that
+there was any chance of their being returned by the object of his rising
+passion. But Iskander was as modest as he was brave and gifted. The
+disparity of age between himself and Iduna appeared an insuperable
+barrier to his hopes, even had there been no other obstacle. Iskander
+struggled with his love, and with his strong mind the struggle, though
+painful, was not without success. He felt that he was acting in a
+manner which must ultimately tend to the advantage of his country,
+the happiness of his friend, and perhaps the maintenance of his own
+self-respect. For he had too much pride not to be very sensible to the
+bitterness of rejection.
+
+Had he perceived more indications of a very cordial feeling subsisting
+between Nicæus and Iduna, he would perhaps not have persisted in
+maintaining his disguise. But he had long suspected that the passion of
+the Prince of Athens was not too favourably considered by the daughter
+of Hunniades, and he was therefore exceedingly anxious that Nicæus
+should possess all the credit of the present adventure, which Iskander
+scarcely doubted, if successful, would allow Nicæus to urge irresistible
+claims to the heart of a mistress whom he had rescued at the peril of
+his life from slavery and dishonour, to offer rank, reputation, and
+love. Iskander took, therefore, several opportunities of leading Iduna
+to believe that he was merely the confidential agent of Nicæus, and that
+the whole plan of her rescue from the Seraglio of Adrianople bad been
+planned by his young friend. In the meantime, during the three days
+on which they had for short intervals met, very few words had been
+interchanged between Nicæus and his mistress. Those words, indeed, had
+been to him of the most inspiring nature, and expressed such a deep
+scale of gratitude, and such lively regard, that Nicæus could no
+longer resist the delightful conviction that he had at length created a
+permanent interest in her heart. Often he longed to rush to her
+couch, and press her hand to his lips. Even the anticipation of future
+happiness could not prevent him from envying the good fortune of
+Iskander, who was allowed to converse with her without restraint; and
+bitterly, on their return to the khan, did he execrate the pompous
+eunuch for all the torture which he occasioned him by his silly
+conversation, and the petty tyranny of office with which Kaflis always
+repressed his attempts to converse for a moment with Iduna.
+
+In the meantime all Adrianople sounded with the preparations for the
+immediate invasion of Epirus, and the return of Iskander to his country
+became each hour more urgent. Everything being prepared, the adventurers
+determined on the fourth morning to attempt the rescue. They repaired as
+usual to the Serail, and were attended by Kaflis to the chamber of
+the tower, who congratulated Iskander on their way on the rapid
+convalescence of the captive. When they had fairly entered the chamber,
+the physician being somewhat in advance, Nicæus, who was behind,
+commenced proceedings by knocking down the eunuch, and Iskander
+instantly turning round to his assistance, they succeeded in gagging and
+binding the alarmed and astonished Kaflis. Iduna then exhibited herself
+in a costume exactly similar to that worn by Nicæus, and which her
+friends had brought to her in their big. Iskander and Iduna then
+immediately quitted the Serail without notice or suspicion, and hurried
+to the khan, where they mounted their horses, that were in readiness,
+and hastened without a moment’s loss of time to a fountain without the
+gates, where they awaited the arrival of Nicæus with anxiety. After
+remaining a few minutes in the chamber of the tower, the Prince of
+Athens stole out, taking care to secure the door upon Kaflis, he
+descended the staircase, and escaped through the Serail without meeting
+any one, and had nearly reached the gate of the gardens, when he was
+challenged by some of the eunuch guard at a little distance.
+
+“Hilloa!” exclaimed one; “I thought you passed just now?”
+
+“So I did,” replied Nicæus, with nervous effrontery; “but I came back
+for my bag, which I left behind,” and, giving them no time to reflect,
+he pushed his way through the gate with all the impudence of a page. He
+rushed through the burial-ground, hurried through the streets, mounted
+his horse, and galloped through the gates. Iskander and Iduna were in
+sight, he waved his hand for them at once to proceed, and in a moment,
+without exchanging a word, they were all galloping at full speed, nor
+did they breathe their horses until sunset.
+
+By nightfall they had reached a small wood of chestnut-trees, where they
+rested for two hours, more for the sake of their steeds than their own
+refreshment, for anxiety prevented Iduna from indulging in any repose,
+as much as excitement prevented her from feeling any fatigue. Iskander
+lit a fire and prepared their rough meal, unharnessed the horses, and
+turned them out to their pasture. Nicæus made Iduna a couch of fern
+and supported her head, while, in deference to his entreaties she
+endeavoured in vain to sleep. Before midnight they were again on their
+way, and proceeded at a rapid pace towards the mountains, until a few
+hours before noon, when their horses began to sink under the united
+influence of their previous exertions and the increasing heat of the
+day. Iskander looked serious, and often threw a backward glance in the
+direction of Adrianople.
+
+“We must be beyond pursuit,” said Nicæus. “I dare say poor Kaflis is
+still gagged and bound.”
+
+“Could we but reach the mountains,” replied his companion, “I should
+have little fear, but I counted upon our steeds carrying us there
+without faltering. We cannot reckon upon more than three hours’ start,
+prince. Our friend Kaflis is too important a personage to be long
+missed.”
+
+“The Holy Virgin befriend us!” said the Lady Iduna. “I ca urge my poor
+horse no more.”
+
+They had now ascended a small rising ground, which gave the wide
+prospect over the plain. Iskander halted and threw an anxious glance
+around him.
+
+“There are some horsemen in the distance whom I do not like,” said the
+physician.
+
+“I see them,” said Nicæus; “travellers like ourselves.”
+
+“Let us die sooner than be taken,” said Iduna.
+
+“Move on,” said the physician, “and let me observe these horsemen
+alone. I would there were some forest at hand. In two hours we may gain
+the mountains.”
+
+The daughter of Hunniades and the Prince of Athens descended the rising
+ground. Before them, but at a considerable distance was a broad and
+rapid river, crossed by a ruinous Roman bridge. The opposite bank of the
+river was the termination of a narrow plain, which led immediately to
+the mountains.
+
+“Fair Iduna, you are safe,” said the Prince of Athens.
+
+“Dear Nicæus,” replied his companion, “imagine what I feel.”
+
+“It is too wild a moment to express my gratitude.”
+
+“I trust that Iduna will never express her gratitude to Nicæus,”
+ answered the prince; “it is not, I assure you, a favourite word with
+him.”
+
+Their companion rejoined them, urging his wearied horse to its utmost
+speed.
+
+“Nicæus!” he called out, “halt.”
+
+They stopped their willing horses.
+
+“How now! my friend;” said the prince; “you look grave.”
+
+“Lady Iduna!” said the Armenian, “we are pursued.”
+
+Hitherto the prospect of success, and the consciousness of the terrible
+destiny that awaited failure, had supported Iduna under exertions, which
+under any other circumstances must have proved fatal. But to learn, at
+the very moment that she was congratulating herself on the felicitous
+completion of their daring enterprise, that that dreaded failure was
+absolutely impending, demanded too great an exertion of her exhausted
+energies. She turned pale; she lifted up her imploring hands and eyes to
+heaven in speechless agony, and then, bending down her head, wept with
+unrestrained and harrowing violence. The distracted Nicæus sprung from
+his horse, endeavoured to console the almost insensible Iduna, and then
+woefully glancing at his fellow adventurer, wrung his hands in despair.
+His fellow adventurer seemed lost in thought.
+
+“They come,” said Nicæus, starting; “methinks I see one on the brow of
+the hill. Away! fly! Let us at least die fighting. Dear, dear Iduna,
+would that my life could ransom thine! O God! this is indeed agony.”
+
+“Escape is impossible,” said Iduna, in a tone of calmness which
+astonished them. “They must overtake us. Alas! brave friends, I have
+brought ye to this! Pardon me, pardon me! I am ashamed of my selfish
+grief. Ascribe it to other causes than a narrow spirit and a weak mind.
+One course alone is left to us. We must not be taken prisoners. Ye are
+warriors, and can die as such. I am only a woman, but I am the daughter
+of Hunniades. Nicæus, you are my father’s friend; I beseech you sheathe
+your dagger in my breast.”
+
+The prince in silent agony pressed his hands to his sight. His limbs
+quivered with terrible emotion. Suddenly he advanced and threw himself
+at the feet of his hitherto silent comrade. “Oh! Iskander!” exclaimed
+Nicæus, “great and glorious friend! my head and heart are both too weak
+for these awful trials; save her, save her!”
+
+“Iskander! exclaimed the thunderstruck Iduna. Iskander!”
+
+“I have, indeed, the misfortune to be Iskander, beloved lady,” he
+replied. “This is, indeed, a case almost of desperation, but if I have
+to endure more than most men, I have, to inspire me, influences which
+fall to the lot of few, yourself and Epirus. Come! Nicæus, there is but
+one chance, we must gain the bridge.” Thus speaking, Iskander caught
+Iduna in his arms, and remounting his steed, and followed by the Prince
+of Athens, hurried towards the river.
+
+“The water is not fordable,” said Iskander, when they had arrived at its
+bank. “The bridge I shall defend; and it will go hard if I do not keep
+them at bay long enough for you and Iduna to gain the mountains. Away;
+think no more of me; nay! no tear, dear lady, or you will unman me.
+An ins inspiring smile, and all will go well. Hasten to Croia, and let
+nothing tempt you to linger in the vicinity, with the hope of my again
+joining you. Believe me, we shall meet again, but act upon what I say,
+as if they were my dying words. God bless you, Nicæus! No murmuring. For
+once let the physician, indeed, command his page. Gentle lady, commend
+me to your father. Would I had such a daughter in Epirus, to head my
+trusty brethren if I fall. Tell the great Hunniades my legacy to him is
+my country. Farewell, farewell!”
+
+“I will not say farewell!” exclaimed Iduna; “I too can fight. I will
+stay and die with you.”
+
+“See they come! Believe me I shall conquer. Fly, fly, thou noble girl!
+Guard her well, Nicæus. God bless thee, boy! Live and be happy. Nay,
+nay, not another word. The farther ye are both distant, trust me, the
+stronger will be my arm. Indeed, indeed, I do beseech ye, fly!”
+
+Nicæus placed the weeping Iduna in her saddle, and after leading her
+horse over the narrow and broken bridge, mounted his own, and then they
+ascended together the hilly and winding track. Iskander watched them as
+they went. Often Iduna waved her kerchief to her forlorn champion. In
+the meantime Iskander tore off his Armenian robes and flung them into
+the river, tried his footing on the position he had taken up, stretched
+his limbs, examined his daggers, flourished his scimitar.
+
+The bridge would only permit a single rider to pass abreast. It was
+supported by three arches, the centre one of very considerable size, the
+others small, and rising out of the shallow water on each side. In many
+parts the parapet wall was broken, in some even the pathway was almost
+impassable from the masses of fallen stone, and the dangerous fissures.
+In the centre of the middle arch was an immense key-stone, on which was
+sculptured, in high relief, an enormous helmet, which indeed gave, among
+the people of the country, a title to the bridge.
+
+A band of horsemen dashed at full speed, with a loud shout, down the
+bill. They checked their horses, when to their astonishment they found
+Iskander with his drawn scimitar, prepared to resist their passage. But
+they paused only for a moment, and immediately attempted to swim the
+river. But their exhausted horses drew back with a strong instinct from
+the rushing waters: one of the band alone, mounted on a magnificent
+black mare, succeeding in his purpose. The rider was half-way in the
+stream, his high-bred steed snorting and struggling in the strong
+current. Iskander, with the same ease as if he were plucking the ripe
+fruit from a tree, took up a ponderous stone, and hurled it with fatal
+precision at his adventurous enemy. The rider shrieked and fell, and
+rose no more: the mare, relieved from her burthen, exerted all her
+failing energies, and succeeded in gaining the opposite bank. There,
+rolling herself in the welcome pasture, and neighing with a note of
+triumph, she revelled in her hard escape.
+
+“Cut down the Giaour!” exclaimed one of the horsemen, and he dashed
+at the bridge. His fragile blade shivered into a thousand pieces as it
+crossed the scimitar of Iskander, and in a moment his bleeding head fell
+over the parapet.
+
+Instantly the whole band, each emulous of revenging his comrades, rushed
+without thought at Iskander, and endeavoured to overpower him by their
+irresistible charge. His scimitar flashed like lightning. The two
+foremost of his enemies fell, but the impulse of the numbers prevailed,
+and each instant, although dealing destruction with every blow, he felt
+himself losing ground. At length he was on the centre of the centre
+arch, an eminent position, which allowed him for a moment to keep
+them at bay, and gave him breathing time. Suddenly he made a desperate
+charge, clove the head of the leader of the band in two, and beat them
+back several yards; then swiftly returning to his former position, he
+summoned all his supernatural strength, and stamping on the mighty, but
+mouldering keystone, he forced it from its form, and broke the masonry
+of a thousand years. Amid a loud and awful shriek, horses and horsemen,
+and the dissolving fragments of the scene for a moment mingled as it
+were in airy chaos, and then plunged with a horrible plash into the
+fatal depths below. Some fell, and, stunned by the massy fragments, rose
+no more; others struggled again into light, and gained with difficulty
+their old shore. Amid them, Iskander, unhurt, swam like a river god, and
+stabbed to the heart the only strong swimmer that was making his way
+in the direction of Epirus. Drenched and exhausted, Iskander at length
+stood upon the opposite margin, and wrung his garments, while he watched
+the scene of strange destruction.
+
+Three or four exhausted wretches were lying bruised and breathless on
+the opposite bank: one drowned horse was stranded near them, caught by
+the rushes. Of all that brave company the rest had vanished, and the
+broad, and blue, and sunny waters rushed without a shadow beneath the
+two remaining arches.
+
+“Iduna! thou art safe,” exclaimed Iskander. “Now for Epirus!” So
+saying, he seized the black mare, renovated by her bath and pasture,
+and vaulting on her back, was in a few minutes bounding over his native
+hills.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 13
+
+
+In the meantime let us not forget the Prince of Athens and the Lady
+Iduna. These adventurous companions soon lost sight of their devoted
+champion, and entered a winding ravine, which gradually brought them
+to the summit of the first chain of the Epirot mountains. From it they
+looked down upon a vast and rocky valley, through which several mule
+tracks led in various directions, and entered the highest barrier of the
+mountains, which rose before them covered with forests of chestnut
+and ilex. Nicæus chose the track which he considered least tempting to
+pursuit, and towards sunset they had again entered a ravine washed by a
+mountain stream. The course of the waters had made the earth fertile
+and beautiful. Wild shrubs of gay and pleasant colours refreshed their
+wearied eye-sight, and the perfume of aromatic plants invigorated
+their jaded senses. Upon the bank of the river, too, a large cross of
+roughly-carved wood brought comfort to their Christian hearts, and while
+the holy emblem filled them with hope and consolation, and seemed an
+omen of refuge from their Moslemin oppressors, a venerable Eremite,
+with a long white beard descending over his dark robes, and leaning on
+a staff of thorn, came forth from an adjoining cavern to breathe the
+evening air and pour forth his evening orisons.
+
+Iduna and Nicæus had hitherto prosecuted their sorrowful journey almost
+in silence. Exhausted with anxiety, affliction, and bodily fatigue, with
+difficulty the daughter of Hunniades could preserve her seat upon her
+steed. One thought alone interested her, and by its engrossing influence
+maintained her under all her sufferings, the memory of Iskander. Since
+she first met him, at the extraordinary interview in her father’s
+pavilion, often had the image of the hero recurred to her fancy, often
+had she mused over his great qualities and strange career. His fame, so
+dangerous to female hearts, was not diminished by his presence. And now,
+when Iduna recollected that she was indebted to him for all that she
+held dear, that she owed to his disinterested devotion, not only life,
+but all that renders life desirable, honour and freedom, country and
+kindred, that image was invested with associations and with sentiments,
+which, had Iskander himself been conscious of their existence, would
+have lent redoubled vigour to his arm, and fresh inspiration to his
+energy. More than once Iduna had been on the point of inquiring of
+Nicæus the reason which had induced alike him and Iskander to preserve
+so strictly the disguise of his companion. But a feeling which she did
+not choose to analyse struggled successfully with her curiosity: she
+felt a reluctance to speak of Iskander to the Prince of Athens. In the
+meantime Nicæus himself was not apparently very anxious of conversing
+upon the subject, and after the first rapid expressions of fear and hope
+as to the situation of their late comrade, they relapsed into silence,
+seldom broken by Nicæus, but to deplore the sufferings of his mistress,
+lamentations which Iduna answered with a faint smile.
+
+The refreshing scene wherein they had now entered, and the cheering
+appearance of the Eremite, were subjects of mutual congratulation;
+and Nicæus, somewhat advancing, claimed the attention of the holy
+man, announcing their faith, imprisonment, escape, and sufferings, and
+entreating hospitality and refuge. The Eremite pointed with his staff
+to the winding path, which ascended the bank of the river to the cavern,
+and welcomed the pilgrims, in the name of their blessed Saviour, to his
+wild abode and simple fare.
+
+The cavern widened when they entered, and comprised several small
+apartments. It was a work of the early Christians, who had found
+a refuge in their days of persecution, and art had completed the
+beneficent design of nature. The cavern was fresh, and sweet, and clean.
+Heaven smiled upon its pious inmate through an aperture in the roof; the
+floor was covered with rushes; in one niche rested a brazen cross, and
+in another a perpetual lamp burnt before a picture, where Madonna smiled
+with meek tenderness upon her young divinity.
+
+The Eremite placed upon a block of wood, the surface of which he had
+himself smoothed, some honey, some dried fish and a wooden bowl filled
+from the pure stream that flowed beneath them: a simple meal, but
+welcome. His guests seated themselves upon a rushy couch, and while
+they refreshed themselves, he gently inquired the history of their
+adventures. As it was evident that the Eremite, from her apparel,
+mistook the sex of Iduna, Nicæus thought fit not to undeceive him, but
+passed her off as his brother. He described themselves as two Athenian
+youths, who had been captured while serving as volunteers under the
+great Hunniades, and who had effected their escape from Adrianople under
+circumstances of great peril and difficulty; and when he had gratified
+the Eremite’s curiosity respecting their Christian brethren in Paynim
+lands, and sympathetically marvelled with him at the advancing fortunes
+of the Crescent, Nicæus, who perceived that Iduna stood in great need of
+rest, mentioned the fatigues of his more fragile brother, and requested
+permission for him to retire. Whereupon the Eremite himself, fetching a
+load of fresh rushes, arranged them in one of the cells, and invited the
+fair Iduna to repose. The daughter of Hunniades, first humbling herself
+before the altar of the Virgin, and offering her gratitude for all the
+late mercies vouchsafed unto her, and then bidding a word of peace to
+her host and her companion, withdrew to her hard-earned couch, soon was
+buried in a sleep as sweet and innocent as herself.
+
+But repose fell not upon the eye-lids of Nicæus in spite of all labours.
+The heart of the Athenian Prince was distracted by two most powerful of
+passions--Love and Jealousy--and when the Eremite, pointing out to his
+guest his allotted resting-place, himself retired to his regular and
+simple slumbers, Nicæus quitted the cavern, and standing upon the bank
+of the river, gazed in abstraction upon the rushing waters foaming in
+the moonlight. The Prince of Athens, with many admirable qualities, was
+one of those men who are influenced only by their passions, and who, in
+the affairs of life, are invariably guided by their imagination instead
+of their reason. At present all thought and feeling, all considerations,
+and all circumstances, merged in the overpowering love he entertained
+for Iduna, his determination to obtain her at all cost and peril, and
+his resolution that she should never again meet Iskander, except as the
+wife of Nicæus. Compared with this paramount object, the future seemed
+to vanish. The emancipation of his country, the welfare of his friend,
+even the maintenance of his holy creed, all those great and noble
+objects for which, under other circumstances, he would have been
+prepared to sacrifice his fortune and his life, no longer interested or
+influenced him; and while the legions of the Crescent were on the point
+of pouring into Greece to crush that patriotic and Christian cause
+over which Iskander and himself had so often mused, whose interests the
+disinterested absence of Iskander, occasioned solely by his devotion to
+Nicæus, had certainly endangered, and perhaps, could the events of the
+last few hours be known, even sacrificed, the Prince of Athens resolved,
+unless Iduna would consent to become his, at once to carry off the
+daughter of Hunniades to some distant country. Nor indeed, even with his
+easily excited vanity, was Nicæus sanguine of obtaining his purpose
+by less violent means. He was already a rejected suitor, and under
+circumstances which scarcely had left hope. Nothing but the sole credit
+of her chivalric rescue could perhaps have obtained for him the interest
+in the heart of Iduna which he coveted. For while this exploit proffered
+an irresistible claim to her deepest gratitude, it indicated also, on
+the part of her deliverer, the presence and possession of all those
+great qualities, the absence of which in the character and conduct of
+her suitor, Iduna had not, at a former period, endeavoured to conceal to
+be the principal came of his rejection. And now, by the unhappy course
+of circumstances, the very deed on which he counted, with sanguine hope,
+as the sure means of his success, seemed as it were to have placed him
+in a more inferior situation than before. The constant society of his
+mistress had fanned to all its former force and ardour, the flame which,
+apart from her, and hopeless, he had endeavoured to repress; while, on
+the other hand, he could not conceal from himself, that Iduna must feel
+that he had played in these rest proceeding but a secondary part;
+that all the genius and all the generosity of the exploit rested with
+Iskander, who, after having obtained her freedom by so much energy,
+peril, sagacity and skill, had secured it by a devoted courage which
+might shame all the knights of Christendom; perhaps, too, had secured it
+by his own life.
+
+What if Iskander were no more? It was a great contingency. The eternal
+servitude of Greece, and the shameful triumph of the Crescent, were
+involved, perhaps, in that single event. And could the possession of
+Iduna compensate for such disgrace and infamy? Let us not record the
+wild response of passion.
+
+It was midnight ere the restless Nicæus, more exhausted by his agitating
+reverie than by his previous exertions, returned into the cavern, and
+found refuge in sleep from all his disquietudes.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 14
+
+
+The Eremite rose with the Sun; and while he was yet at matins, was
+joined by Iduna, refreshed and cheerful after her unusual slumbers.
+After performing their devotions, her venerable host proposed that
+they should go forth and enjoy the morning air. So, descending the
+precipitous bank of the river, he led the way to a small glen, the
+bed of a tributary rivulet, now nearly exhausted. Beautiful clumps of
+birch-trees and tall thin poplars, rose on each side among the rocks
+covered with bright mosses, and parasitical plants of gay and various
+colours. One side of the glen was touched with the golden and grateful
+beams of the rising sun, and the other was in deep shadow.
+
+“Here you can enjoy nature and freedom in security;” said the Eremite,
+“for your enemies, if they have not already given up their pursuit, will
+scarcely search this sweet solitude.”
+
+“It is indeed sweet, holy father,” said Iduna; “but the captive, who has
+escaped from captivity, can alone feel all its sweetness.”
+
+“It is true,” said the Eremite; “I also have been a captive.”
+
+“Indeed! holy father. To the Infidels?”
+
+“To the Infidels, gentle pilgrim.”
+
+“Have you been at Adrianople?”
+
+“My oppressors were not the Paynim,” replied the Eremite, “but they
+were enemies far more dire, my own evil passions. Time was when my eye
+sparkled like thine, gentle pilgrim, and my heart was not as pure.”
+
+“God is merciful,” said Iduna, “and without His aid, the strongest are
+but shadows.”
+
+“Ever think so,” replied the Eremite, “and you will deserve rather His
+love than His mercy. Thirty long years have I spent in this solitude,
+meditating upon the past, and it is a theme yet fertile in instruction.
+My hours are never heavy, and memory is to me what action is to other
+men.”
+
+“You have seen much, holy father?”
+
+“And felt more. Yet you will perhaps think the result of all my
+experience very slight, for I can only say unto thee, trust not in
+thyself.”
+
+“It is a great truth,” remarked Iduna, “and leads to a higher one.”
+
+“Even so,” replied the Eremite. “We are full of wisdom in old age, as
+in winter this river is full of water, but the fire of youth, like the
+summer sun, dries up the stream.”
+
+Iduna did not reply. The Eremite attracted her attention to a patch of
+cresses on the opposite bank of the stream. “Every morn I rise only
+to discover fresh instances of omnipotent benevolence,” he exclaimed.
+“Yesterday ye tasted my honey and my fish. To-day I can offer ye a fresh
+dainty. We will break our fast in this pleasant glen. Rest thou here,
+gentle youth, and I will summon thy brother to our meal. I fear me much
+he does not bear so contented a spirit as thyself.”
+
+“He is older, and has seen more,” replied Iduna.
+
+The Eremite shook his head, and leaning on his staff, returned to
+the cavern. Iduna remained, seated on a mossy rock, listening to the
+awakening birds, and musing over the fate of Iskander. While she was
+indulging in this reverie, her name was called. She looked up with a
+blush, and beheld Nicæus.
+
+“How fares my gentle comrade?” inquired the Prince of Athens.
+
+“As well as I hope you are, dear Nicæus. We have been indeed fortunate
+in finding so kind a host.”
+
+“I think I may now congratulate you on your safety,” said the Prince.
+“This unfrequented pass will lead us in two days to Epirus, nor do I
+indeed now fear pursuit.”
+
+“Acts and not words must express in future how much we owe to you,” said
+Iduna. “My joy would be complete if my father only knew of our safety,
+and if our late companion were here to share it.”
+
+“Fear not for my friend,” replied Nicæus. “I have faith in the fortune
+of Iskander.”
+
+“If any one could succeed under such circumstances, he doubtless is the
+man,” rejoined Iduna; “but it was indeed an awful crisis in his fate.”
+
+“Trust me, dear lady, it is wise to banish gloomy thoughts.”
+
+“We can give him only our thoughts,” said Iduna, “and when we remember
+how much is dependent on his life, can they be cheerful?”
+
+“Mine must be so, when I am in the presence of Iduna,” replied Nicæus.
+
+The daughter of Hunniades gathered moss from the rock, and threw it into
+the stream.
+
+“Dear lady,” said the Prince of Athens, seating himself by her side,
+and stealing her gentle hand. “Pardon me, if an irrepressible feeling at
+this moment impels me to recur to a subject, which, I would fain hope,
+were not so unpleasing to you, as once unhappily you deemed it. O!
+Iduna, Iduna, best and dearest, we are once more together; once more
+I gaze upon that unrivalled form, and listen to the music of that
+matchless voice. I sought you, I perhaps violated my pledge, but I
+sought you in captivity and sorrow. Pardon me, pity me, Iduna! Oh!
+Iduna, if possible, love me!”
+
+She turned away her head, she turned away her streaming eyes. “It
+is impossible not to love my deliverers,” she replied, in a low and
+tremulous voice, “even could he not prefer the many other claims
+to affection which are possessed by the Prince of Athens. I was not
+prepared for this renewal of a most painful subject, perhaps not under
+any circumstances, but least of all under those in which we now find
+ourselves.”
+
+“Alas!” exclaimed the prince, “I can no longer control my passion. My
+life, not my happiness merely, depends upon Iduna becoming mine. Bear
+with me, my beloved, bear with me! Were you Nicæus, you too would need
+forgiveness.”
+
+“I beseech you, cease!” exclaimed Iduna, in a firmer voice; and,
+withdrawing her hand, she suddenly rose. “This is neither the time nor
+place for such conversation. I have not forgotten that, but a few days
+back, I was a hopeless captive, and that my life and fame are even now
+in danger. Great mercies have been vouchsafed to me; but still I perhaps
+need the hourly interposition of heavenly aid. Other than such worldly
+thoughts should fill my mind, and do. Dear Nicæus,” she continued, in a
+more soothing tone, “you have nobly commenced a most heroic enterprise:
+fulfil it in like spirit.”
+
+He would have replied; but at this moment the staff of the Eremite
+sounded among the rocks. Baffled, and dark with rage and passion, the
+Prince of Athens quitted Iduna, and strolled towards the upper part of
+the glen, to conceal his anger and disappointment.
+
+“Eat, gentle youth,” said the Eremite. “Will not thy brother join us?
+What may be his name?”
+
+“Nicæus, holy father.”
+
+“And thine?”
+
+Iduna blushed and hesitated. At length, in her confusion, she replied,
+“Iskander.”
+
+“Nicæus,” called out the Eremite, “Iskander and myself await thee!”
+
+Iduna trembled. She was agreeably surprised when the prince returned
+with a smiling countenance, and joined in the meal, with many cheerful
+words.
+
+“Now I propose,” said the Eremite, “that yourself and your brother
+Iskander should tarry with me some days, if, indeed, my simple fare have
+any temptation.”
+
+“I thank thee, holy father,” replied Nicæus, “but our affairs are
+urgent; nor indeed could I have tarried here at all, had it not been
+for my young Iskander here, who, as you may easily believe, is little
+accustomed to his late exertions. But, indeed, towards sunset, we must
+proceed.”
+
+“Bearing with us,” added Iduna, “a most grateful recollection of our
+host.”
+
+“God be with ye, wherever ye may proceed,” replied the Eremite.
+
+“My trust is indeed in Him,” rejoined Iduna.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 15
+
+
+And so, two hours before sunset, mounting their refreshed horses, Nicæus
+and Iduna quitted, with many kind words, the cavern of the Eremite,
+and took their way along the winding bank of the river. Throughout the
+moonlit night they travelled, ascending the last and highest chain of
+mountains and reaching the summit by dawn. The cheerful light of morning
+revealed to them the happy plains of a Christian country. With joyful
+spirits they descended into the fertile land, and stopped at a beautiful
+Greek village, embowered in orchards and groves of olive-trees.
+
+The Prince of Athens instantly inquired for the Primate, or chief
+personage of the village, and was conducted to his house; but its
+master, he was informed, was without, supervising the commencement of
+the vintage. Leaving Iduna with the family of the Primate, Nicæus went
+in search of him. The vineyard was full of groups, busied in the most
+elegant and joyous of human occupations, gathering, with infinite bursts
+of merriment, the harvest of the vine. Some mounted on ladders, fixed
+against the festooning branches, plucked the rich bunches, and threw
+them below, where girls, singing in chorus, caught them in panniers, or
+their extended drapery. In the centre of the vineyard, a middle-aged
+man watched with a calm, but vigilant eye, the whole proceedings, and
+occasionally stimulated the indolent, or prompted the inexperienced.
+
+“Christo,” said the Prince of Athens, when he had approached him. The
+Primate turned round, but evidently did not immediately recognise the
+person who addressed him.
+
+“I see,” continued the prince, “that my meditated caution was
+unnecessary. My strange garb is a sufficient disguise.”
+
+“The Prince Nicæus!” exclaimed the Primate. “He is, indeed, disguised,
+but will, I am sure, pardon his faithful servant.”
+
+“Not a word, Christo!” replied the prince. “To be brief, I have crossed
+the mountains from Roumelia, and have only within this hour recognised
+the spot whither I have chanced to arrive. I have a companion with me.
+I would not be known. You comprehend? Affairs of state. I take it for
+granted that there are none here who will recognise me, after three
+years’ absence, in this dress.”
+
+“You may feel secure, my lord,” replied Christo. “If you puzzled me, who
+have known you since you were no bigger than this bunch of grapes, you
+will quite confound the rest.”
+
+“‘Tis well. I shall stay here a day or two, in order to give them
+an opportunity to prepare for my reception. In the meantime, it is
+necessary to send on a courier at once. You must manage all this for me,
+Christo. How are your daughters?”
+
+“So, so, please your Highness,” replied Christo. “A man with seven
+daughters has got trouble for every day in the week.”
+
+“But not when they are so pretty as yours are!”
+
+“Poh! poh! handsome is that handsome does; and as for Alexina, she wants
+to be married.”
+
+“Very natural. Let her marry, by all means.”
+
+“But Helena wants to do the same.”
+
+“More natural still; for, if possible, she is prettier. For my part, I
+could marry them both.”
+
+“Ay, ay! that is all very well; but handsome is that handsome does. I
+have no objection to Alexina marrying, and even Helena; but then there
+is Lais--”
+
+“Hah! hah! hah!” exclaimed the prince. “I see, my dear Christo, that
+my foster sisters give you a very proper portion of trouble. However, I
+must be off to my travelling companion. Come in as soon as you can, my
+dear fellow, and will settle everything. A good vintage to you, and only
+as much mischief as necessary.” So saying, the prince tripped away.
+
+“Well! who would have thought of seeing him here!” exclaimed the worthy
+Primate. “The same gay dog as ever! What can he have been doing at
+Roumelia? Affairs of state, indeed! I’ll wager my new Epiphany scarf,
+that, whatever the affairs are, there is a pretty girl in the case.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 16
+
+
+The fair Iduna, after all her perils and sufferings, was at length
+sheltered in safety under a kind and domestic roof. Alexina, and
+Helena, and Lais, and all the other sisters emulated each other in the
+attentions which they lavished upon the two brothers, but especially the
+youngest. Their kindness, indeed, was only equalled by their ceaseless
+curiosity, and had they ever waited for the answers of Iduna to their
+questions, the daughter of Hunniades might, perhaps, have been somewhat
+puzzled to reconcile her responses with probability. Helena answered the
+questions of Alexina; Lais anticipated even Helena. All that Iduna had
+to do was to smile and be silent, and it was universally agreed that
+Iskander was singularly shy as well as excessively handsome. In the
+meantime, when Nicæus met Iduna in the evening of the second day of
+their visit, he informed her that he had been so fortunate as to
+resume an acquaintance with an old companion in arms in the person of
+a neighbouring noble, who had invited them to rest at his castle at
+the end of their next day’s journey. He told her likewise that he
+had dispatched a courier to Croia to inquire after Iskander, who, he
+expected, in the course of a few days, would bring them intelligence
+to guide their future movements, and decide whether they should at once
+proceed to the capital of Epirus, or advance into Bulgaria, in case
+Hunniades was still in the field. On the morrow, therefore, they
+proceeded on their journey. Nicæus had procured a litter for Iduna, for
+which her delicate health was an excuse to Alexina and her sisters, and
+they were attended by a small body of well-armed cavalry, for, according
+to the accounts which Nicæus had received, the country was still
+disturbed. They departed at break of day, Nicæus riding by the side of
+the litter, and occasionally making the most anxious inquiries after the
+well-being of his fair charge. An hour after noon they rested at a well,
+surrounded by olive-trees, until the extreme heat was somewhat allayed;
+and then remounting, proceeded in the direction of an undulating ridge
+of green hills, that partially intersected the wide plain. Towards
+sunset the Prince of Athens withdrew the curtains of the litter, and
+called the attention of Iduna to a very fair castle, rising on a fertile
+eminence and sparkling in the quivering beams of dying light.
+
+“I fear,” said Nicæus, “that my friend Justinian will scarcely have
+returned, but we are old comrades, and he desired me to act as his
+Seneschal. For your sake I am sorry, Iduna, for I feel convinced that he
+would please you.”
+
+“It is, indeed, a fair castle,” replied Iduna, “and none but a true
+knight deserves such a noble residence.”
+
+While she spoke the commander of the escort sounded his bugle, and they
+commenced the ascent of the steep, a winding road, cut through a thick
+wood of ever-green shrubs. The gradual and easy ascent soon brought them
+to a portal flanked with towers, which admitted them into the outworks
+of the fortification. Here they found several soldiers on guard, and the
+commander again sounding his bugle, the gates of the castle opened,
+and the Seneschal, attended by a suite of many domestics, advanced and
+welcomed Nicæus and Iduna. The Prince of Athens dismounting, assisted
+his fair companion from the litter, and leading her by the band, and
+preceded by the Seneschal, entered the castle.
+
+They passed through a magnificent hall, hung with choice armour, and
+ascending a staircase, of Pentelic marble, were ushered into a suite of
+lofty chambers, lined with Oriental tapestry, and furnished with many
+costly couches and cabinets. While they admired a spectacle so different
+to anything they had recently beheld or experienced, the Seneschal,
+followed by a number of slaves in splendid attire, advanced and offered
+them rare and choice refreshments, coffee and confectionery, sherbets
+and spiced wines. When they had partaken of this elegant cheer, Nicæus
+intimated to the Seneschal that the Lady Iduna might probably wish to
+retire, and instantly a discreet matron, followed by six most beautiful
+girls, each bearing a fragrant torch of cinnamon mind roses, advanced
+and offered to conduct the Lady Iduna to her apartments.
+
+The matron and her company of maidens conducted the daughter of
+Hunniades down a long gallery, which led to a suite of the prettiest
+chambers in the world. The first was an antechamber, painted like a
+bower, but filled with the music of living birds; the second, which was
+much larger, was entirely covered with Venetian mirrors, and resting
+on a bright Persian carpet were many couches of crimson velvet, covered
+with a variety of sumptuous dresses; the third room was a bath, made
+in the semblance of a gigantic shell. Its roof was of transparent
+alabaster, glowing with shadowy light.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 17
+
+
+A flourish of trumpets announced the return of the Lady Iduna and the
+Prince of Athens, magnificently attired, came forward with a smile, and
+led her, with a compliment on her resuming the dress of her sex, if
+not of her country, to the banquet. Iduna was not uninfluenced by that
+excitement which is insensibly produced by a sudden change of scene and
+circumstances, and especially by an unexpected transition from hardship,
+peril, and suffering, to luxury, security, and enjoyment. Their spirits
+were elevated and gay: she smiled upon Nicæus with a cheerful sympathy.
+They feasted, they listened to sweet music, they talked over their
+late adventures, and, animated by their own enjoyment, they became more
+sanguine as to the fate of Iskander.
+
+“In two or three days we shall know more,” said Nicæus. “In the
+meantime, rest is absolutely necessary to you. It is only now that you
+will begin to be sensible of the exertion you have made. If Iskander be
+at Croia, he has already informed your father of your escape; if he
+have not arrived, I have arranged that a courier shall be dispatched
+to Hunniades from that city. Do not be anxious. Try to be happy. I
+am myself sanguine that you will find all well. Come, pledge me your
+father’s health, fair lady, in this goblet of Tenedos!”
+
+“How know I that at this moment he may not be at the point of death,”
+ replied Iduna. “When I am absent from those I love, I dream only of
+their unhappiness.”
+
+“At this moment also,” rejoined Nicæus, “he dreams perhaps of your
+imprisonment among barbarians. Yet how mistaken! Let that consideration
+support you. Come! here is to the Eremite.”
+
+“As willing, if not as sumptuous, a host as our present one,” said
+Iduna; “and when, by-the-bye, do you think that your friend, the Lord
+Justinian, will arrive?”
+
+“Oh! never mind him,” said Nicæus. “He would have arrived to-morrow, but
+the great news which I gave him has probably changed his plans. I told
+him of the approaching invasion, and he has perhaps found it necessary
+to visit the neighbouring chieftains, or even to go on to Croia.”
+
+“Well-a-day!” exclaimed Iduna, “I would we were in my father’s camp!”
+
+“We shall soon be there, dear lady,” replied the Prince. “Come, worthy
+Seneschal,” he added, turning to that functionary, “drink to this noble
+lady’s happy meeting with her friends.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 18
+
+
+Three or four days passed away at the castle of Justinian, in which
+Nicæus used his utmost exertions to divert the anxiety of Iduna. One
+day was spent in examining the castle, on another he amused her with a
+hawking party, on a third he carried her to the neighbouring ruins of a
+temple, and read his favourite Æschylus to her amid its lone and
+elegant columns. It was impossible for any one to be more amiable and
+entertaining, and Iduna could not resist recognising his many virtues
+and accomplishments. The courier had not yet returned from Croia,
+which Nicæus accounted for by many satisfactory reasons. The suspense,
+however, at length became so painful to Iduna, that she proposed to the
+Prince of Athens that they should, without further delay, proceed to
+that city. As usual, Nicæus was not wanting in many plausible arguments
+in favour of their remaining at the castle, but Iduna was resolute.
+
+“Indeed, dear Nicæus,” she said, “my anxiety to see my father, or hear
+from him, is so great, that there is scarcely any danger which I would
+not encounter to gratify my wish. I feel that I have already taxed your
+endurance too much. But we are no longer in a hostile land, and guards
+and guides are to be engaged. Let me then depart alone!”
+
+“Iduna!” exclaimed Nicæus, reproachfully. “Alas! Iduna, you are cruel,
+but I did not expect this!”
+
+“Dear Nicæus!” she answered, “you always misinterpret me! It would
+infinitely delight me to be restored to Hunniades by yourself, but these
+are no common times, and you are no common person. You forget that there
+is one that has greater claims upon you even than a forlorn maiden, your
+country. And whether Iskander be at Croia or not, Greece requires the
+presence and exertions of the Prince of Athens.”
+
+“I have no country,” replied Nicæus, mournfully, “and no object for
+which to exert myself.”
+
+“Nicæus! Is this the poetic patriot who was yesterday envying
+Themistocles?”
+
+“Alas! Iduna, yesterday you were my muse. I do not wonder you are
+wearied of this castle!” continued the prince in a melancholy tone.
+“This spot contains nothing to interest you; but for me, it holds all
+that is dear, and, O! gentle maiden, one smile from you, one smile of
+inspiration, and I would not envy Themistocles, and might perhaps rival
+him.”
+
+They were walking together in the hall of the castle; Iduna stepped
+aside and affected to examine a curious buckler, Nicæus followed her,
+and placing his arm gently in hers, led her away.
+
+“Dearest Iduna,” he said, “pardon me, but men struggle for their fate.
+Mine is in your power. It is a contest between misery and happiness,
+glory and perhaps infamy. Do not then wonder that I will not yield my
+chance of the brighter fortune without an effort. Once more I appeal to
+your pity, if not to your love. Were Iduna mine, were she to hold out
+but the possibility of her being mine, there is no career, solemnly I
+avow what solemnly I feel, there is no career of which I could not be
+capable, and no condition to which I would not willingly subscribe. But
+this certainty, or this contingency, I must have: I cannot exist without
+the alternative. And now upon my knees, I implore her to grant it to
+me!”
+
+“Nicæus,” said Iduna, “this continued recurrence to a forbidden subject
+is most ungenerous.”
+
+“Alas! Iduna, my life depends upon a word, which you will not speak, and
+you talk of generosity. No! Iduna, it is not I that I am ungenerous.”
+
+“Let me say then unreasonable, Prince Nicæus.”
+
+“Say what you like, Iduna, provided you say that you are mine.”
+
+“Pardon me, sir, I am free.”
+
+“Free! You have ever underrated me, Iduna. To whom do you owe this
+boasted freedom?”
+
+“This is not the first time,” remarked Iduna, “that you have reminded
+me of an obligation, the memory of which is indelibly impressed upon my
+heart, and for which even the present conversation cannot make me
+feel less grateful. I can never forget that I owe all that is dear to
+yourself and your companion.”
+
+“My companion!” replied the Prince of Athens, pale and passionate. “My
+companion! Am I ever to be reminded of my companion?”
+
+“Nicæus!” said Iduna; “if you forget what is due to me, at least
+endeavour to remember what is due to yourself?”
+
+“Beautiful being!” said the prince, advancing and passionately seizing
+her hand; “pardon me! pardon me! I am not master of my reason; I am
+nothing, I am nothing while Iduna hesitates!”
+
+“She does not hesitate, Nicæus. I desire, I require, that this
+conversation shall cease; shall never, never be renewed.”
+
+“And I tell thee, haughty woman,” said the Prince of Athens, grinding
+his teeth, and speaking with violent action, “that I will no longer be
+despised with impunity. Iduna is mine, or is no one else’s.”
+
+“Is it possible?” exclaimed the daughter of Hunniades. “Is it, indeed,
+come to this? But why am I surprised! I have long known Nicæus. I quit
+this castle instantly.”
+
+“You are a prisoner,” replied the prince very calmly, and leaning with
+folded arms against the wall.
+
+“A prisoner!” exclaimed Iduna, a little alarmed. “A prisoner! I defy
+you, sir. You are only a guest like myself. I will appeal to the
+Seneschal in the absence of his lord. He will never permit the honour
+of his master’s flag to be violated by the irrational caprice of a
+passionate boy.”
+
+“What lord?” inquired Nicæus.
+
+“Your friend, the Lord Justinian,” answered Iduna. “He could little
+anticipate such an abuse of his hospitality.”
+
+“My friend, the Lord Justinian!” replied Nicæus, with a malignant smile.
+“I am surprised that a personage of the Lady Iduna’s deep discrimination
+should so easily be deceived by ‘a passionate boy!’ Is it possible that
+you could have supposed for a moment that there was any other lord of
+this castle, save your devoted slave?”
+
+“What!” exclaimed Iduna, really frightened.
+
+“I have, indeed, the honour of finding the Lady Iduna my guest,”
+ continued Nicæus, in a tone of bitter raillery. “This castle of
+Kallista, the fairest in all Epirus, I inherit from my mother. Of late
+I have seldom visited it; but, indeed, it will become a favourite
+residence of mine, if it be, as I anticipate, the scene of my nuptial
+ceremony.”
+
+Iduna looked around her with astonishment, then threw herself upon a
+couch, and burst into tears. The Prince of Athens walked up and down the
+hall with an air of determined coolness.
+
+“Perfidious!” exclaimed Iduna between her sobs.
+
+“Lady Iduna,” said the prince; and he seated himself by her side. “I
+will not attempt to palliate a deception which your charms could
+alone inspire and can alone justify. Hear me, Lady Iduna, hear me
+with calmness. I love you; I love you with a passion which has been
+as constant as it is strong. My birth, my rank, my fortunes, do not
+disqualify me for an union with the daughter of the great Hunniades.
+If my personal claims may sink in comparison with her surpassing
+excellence, I am yet to learn that any other prince in Christendom can
+urge a more effective plea. I am young; the ladies of the court have
+called me handsome; by your great father’s side I have broken some
+lances in your honour; and even Iduna once confessed she thought me
+clever. Come, come, be merciful! Let my beautiful Athens receive a
+fitting mistress! A holy father is in readiness dear maiden. Come now,
+one smile! In a few days we shall reach your father’s camp, and then we
+will kneel, as I do now, and beg a blessing on our happy union.” As he
+spoke, he dropped upon his knee, and stealing her hand, looked into her
+face. It was sorrowful and gloomy.
+
+“It is in vain, Nicæus,” said Iduna, “to appeal to your generosity;
+it is useless to talk of the past; it is idle to reproach you for
+the present. I am a woman, alone and persecuted, where I could least
+anticipate persecution. Nicæus, I never can be yours; and now I deliver
+myself to the mercy of Almighty God.”
+
+“‘Tis well,” said Nicæus. “From the tower of the castle you may behold
+the waves of the Ionian Sea. You will remain here a close prisoner,
+until one of my galleys arrive from Piræus to bear us to Italy. Mine you
+must be, Iduna. It remains for you to decide under what circumstances.
+Continue in your obstinacy, and you may bid farewell for ever to your
+country and to your father. Be reasonable, and a destiny awaits you,
+which offers everything that has hitherto been considered the source or
+cause of happiness.” Thus speaking, the prince retired, leaving the Lady
+Iduna to her own unhappy thoughts.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 19
+
+
+The Lady Iduna was at first inclined to view the conduct of the Prince
+of Athens as one of those passionate and passing ebullitions in which
+her long acquaintance with him had taught her he was accustomed to
+indulge. But when on retiring soon after to her apartments, she was
+informed by her attendant matron that she must in future consider
+herself a prisoner, and not venture again to quit them without
+permission, she began to tremble at the possible violence of an
+ill-regulated mind. She endeavoured to interest her attendant in her
+behalf; but the matron was too well schooled to evince any feeling
+or express any opinion on the subject; and indeed, at length, fairly
+informed Iduna that she was commanded to confine her conversation to the
+duties of her office.
+
+The Lady Iduna was very unhappy. She thought of her father, she thought
+of Iskander. The past seemed a dream; she was often tempted to believe
+that she was still, and had ever been, a prisoner in the Serail of
+Adrianople; and that all the late wonderful incidents of her life were
+but the shifting scenes of some wild slumber. And then some slight
+incident, the sound of a bell or the sign of some holy emblem, assured
+her she was in a Christian land, and convinced her of the strange truth
+that she was indeed in captivity, and a prisoner, above all others,
+to the fond companion of her youth. Her indignation at the conduct of
+Nicæus roused her courage; she resolved to make an effort to escape.
+Her rooms were only lighted from above; she determined to steal forth at
+night into the gallery; the door was secured. She hastened back to her
+chamber in fear and sorrow, and wept.
+
+Twice in the course of the day the stern and silent matron visited Iduna
+with her food; and as she retired, secured the door. This was the only
+individual that the imprisoned lady ever beheld. And thus heavily rolled
+on upwards of a week. On the eve of the ninth day, Iduna was surprised
+by the matron presenting her a letter as she quitted the chamber for
+the night. Iduna seized it with a feeling of curiosity not unmixed
+with pleasure. It was the only incident that had occurred during her
+captivity. She recognised the hand-writing of Nicæus, and threw it down
+with; vexation at her silliness in supposing, for a moment, that the
+matron could have been the emissary of any other person.
+
+Yet the letter must be read, and at length she opened it. It informed
+her that a ship had arrived from Athens at the coast, and that to-morrow
+she must depart for Italy. It told her also, that the Turks, under
+Mahomed, had invaded Albania; and that the Hungarians, under the
+command of her father, had come to support the Cross. It said nothing of
+Iskander. But it reminded her that little more than the same time that
+would carry her to the coast to embark for a foreign land, would, were
+she wise, alike enable Nicæus to place her in her father’s arms, and
+allow him to join in the great struggle for his country and his creed.
+The letter was written with firmness, but tenderly. It left, however,
+on the mind of Iduna an impression of the desperate resolution of the
+writer.
+
+Now it so happened, that as this unhappy lady jumped from her couch, and
+paced the room in the perturbation of her mind, the wind of her drapery
+extinguished her lamp. As her attendant, or visitor, had paid her
+last visit for the day, there seemed little chance of its being again
+illumined. The miserable are always more unhappy in the dark. Light is
+the greatest of comforters. And so this little misfortune seemed to the
+forlorn Iduna almost overwhelming. And as she attempted to look around,
+and wrung her hands in very woe, her attention was attracted by a
+brilliant streak of light upon the wall, which greatly surprised her.
+She groped her way in its direction, and slowly stretching forth her
+hand, observed that it made its way through a chink in the frame of one
+of the great mirrors which were inlaid in the wall. And as she pressed
+the frame, she felt to her surprise that it sprang forward. Had she not
+been very cautious the advancing mirror would have struck her with great
+force, but she had presence of mind to withdraw her hand very gradually,
+repressing the swiftness of the spring. The aperture occasioned by
+the opening of the mirror consisted of a recess, formed by a closed-up
+window. An old wooden shutter, or blind, in so ruinous a state, that the
+light freely made its way, was the only barrier against the elements.
+Iduna, seizing the handle which remained, at once drew it open with
+little difficulty.
+
+The captive gazed with gladdened feelings upon the free and beautiful
+scene. Beneath her rose the rich and aromatic shrubs tinged with the
+soft and silver light of eve: before her extended wide and fertile
+champaign, skirted by the dark and undulating mountains: in the clear
+sky, glittering and sharp, sparkled the first crescent of the new moon,
+an auspicious omen to the Moslemin invaders.
+
+Iduna gazed with, joy upon the landscape, and then hastily descending
+from the recess, she placed her hands to her eyes, so long unaccustomed
+to the light. Perhaps, too, she indulged in momentary meditation. For
+suddenly seizing a number of shawls; which were lying on one of the
+couches, she knotted them together, and then striving with all her
+force, she placed the heaviest, coach on one end of the costly cord, and
+then throwing the other out of the window, and entrusting herself to
+the merciful care of the holy Virgin, the brave daughter of Hunniades
+successfully dropped down into the garden below.
+
+She stopped to breathe, and to revel in her emancipated existence. It
+was a bold enterprise gallantly achieved. But the danger had now only
+commenced. She found that she had alighted at the back of the castle.
+She stole along upon tip-toe, timid as a fawn. She remembered a small
+wicket-gate that led into the open country. She arrived at the gate. It
+was of course guarded. The single sentinel was kneeling before an image
+of St. George, beside him was an empty drinking-cup and an exhausted
+wineskin.
+
+“Holy Saint!” exclaimed the pious sentinel, “preserve us from all
+Turkish infidels!” Iduna stole behind him. “Shall men who drink no wine
+conquer true Christians!” continued the sentinel. Iduna placed her hand
+upon the lock. “We thank thee for our good vintage,” said the sentinel.
+Iduna opened the gate with the noiseless touch which a feminine finger
+can alone command. “And for the rise of the Lord Iskander!” added the
+sentinel. Iduna escaped!
+
+Now she indeed was free. Swiftly she ran over the wide plain. She hoped
+to reach some town or village before her escape could be discovered, and
+she hurried on for three hours without resting. She came to a beautiful
+grove of olive-trees that spread in extensive ramifications about the
+plain. And through this beautiful grove of olive-trees her path seemed
+to lead. So she entered and advanced. And when she had journeyed for
+about a mile, she came to an open and very verdant piece of ground,
+which was, as it were, the heart of the grove. In its centre rose a fair
+and antique structure of white marble, shrouding from the noon-day sun
+the perennial flow of a very famous fountain. It was near midnight.
+Iduna was wearied, and she sat down upon the steps of the fountain for
+rest. And while she was musing over all the strange adventures of her
+life, she heard a rustling in the wood, and being alarmed, she rose and
+hid herself behind a tree.
+
+And while she stood there, with palpitating heart, the figure of a man
+advanced to the fountain from an opposite direction of the grove. He
+went up the steps, and looked down upon the spring as if he were about
+to drink, but instead of doing that, he drew his scimitar, and plunged
+it into the water, and called out with a loud voice the name of
+“Iskander!” three times. Whereupon Iduna, actuated by an irresistible
+impulse, came forward from her hiding-place, but instantly gave a loud
+shriek when she beheld the Prince Mahomed!
+
+“Oh! night of glory!” exclaimed the prince, advancing. “Do I indeed
+behold the fair Iduna! This is truly magic!”
+
+“Away! away!” exclaimed the distracted Iduna, as she endeavoured to fly
+from him.
+
+“He has kept his word, that cunning leech, better than I expected,” said
+Mahomed, seizing her.
+
+“As well as you deserve, ravisher!” exclaimed a majestic voice. A tall
+figure rushed forward from the wood, and dashed back the Turk.
+
+“I am here to complete my contract, Prince Mahomed,” said the stranger,
+drawing his sword.
+
+“Iskander!” exclaimed the prince.
+
+“We have met before, prince. Let us so act now that we may meet for the
+last time.”
+
+“Infamous, infernal traitor,” exclaimed Mahomed, “dost thou, indeed,
+imagine that I will sully my imperial blade with the blood of my
+run-away slave! No I came here to secure thy punishment, but I cannot
+condescend to become thy punisher. Advance, guards, and seize him! Seize
+them both!”
+
+Iduna flew to Iskander, who caught her in one arm, while he waved his
+scimitar with the other. The guards of Mahomed poured forth from the
+side of the grove whence the prince had issued.
+
+“And dost thou indeed think, Mahomed,” said Iskander, “that I have been
+educated in the Seraglio to be duped by Moslemin craft. I offer thee
+single combat if thou desirest it, but combat as we may, the struggle
+shall be equal.” He whistled, and instantly a body of Hungarians,
+headed by Hunniades himself, advanced from the side of the grove whence
+Iskander had issued.
+
+“Come on, then,” said Mahomed; “each to his man.” Their swords clashed,
+but the principal attendants of the son of Amurath deeming the affair
+under the present circumstances assumed the character of a mere rash
+adventure, bore away the Turkish prince.
+
+“To-morrow then, this fray shall be decided on the plains of Kallista,”
+ said Mahomed.
+
+“Epirus is prepared,” replied Iskander.
+
+The Turks withdrew. Iskander bore the senseless form of Iduna to her
+father. Hunniades embraced his long-lost child. They sprinkled her face
+with water from the fountain. She revived.
+
+“Where is Nicæus?” inquired Iskander; “and how came you again, dear
+lady, in the power of Mahomed?”
+
+“Alas! noble sir, my twice deliverer,” answered Iduna, “I have, indeed,
+again been doomed to captivity, but my persecutor, I blush to say, was
+this time a Christian prince.”
+
+“Holy Virgin!” exclaimed Iskander. “Who can this villain be?”
+
+“The villain, Lord Iskander, is your friend; and your pupil, dear
+father.”
+
+“Nicæus of Athens!” exclaimed Hunniades.
+
+Iskander was silent and melancholy.
+
+Thereupon the Lady Iduna recounted to her father and Iskander, sitting
+between them on the margin of the fount, all that had occurred to her,
+since herself and Nicæus parted with Iskander; nor did she omit to
+relate to Hunniades all the devotion of Iskander, respecting which,
+like a truly brave man, he had himself been silent. The great Hunniades
+scarcely knew which rather to do, to lavish his affection on his beloved
+child, or his gratitude upon Iskander. Thus they went on conversing
+for some time, Iskander placing his own cloak around Iduna, and almost
+unconsciously winding his arm around her unresisting form.
+
+Just as they were preparing to return to the Christian camp, a great
+noise was heard in the grove, and presently, in the direction whence
+Iduna had arrived, there came a band of men bearing torches and
+examining the grove in all directions in great agitation. Iskander and
+Hunniades stood upon their guard, but soon perceived they were Greeks.
+Their leader, seeing a group near the fountain, advanced to make
+inquiries respecting the object of his search, but when he indeed
+recognised the persons who formed the group, the torch fell from his
+grasp, and he turned away his head and hid his face in his hands.
+
+Iduna clung to her father; Iskander stood with his eyes fixed upon the
+ground, but Hunniades, stern and terrible, disembarrassing himself of
+the grasp of his daughter, advanced and laid his hand upon the stranger.
+
+“Young man,” said the noble father, “were it contrition instead of shame
+that inspired this attitude, it might be better. I have often warned you
+of the fatal consequences of a reckless indulgence of the passions.
+More than once I have predicted to you, that however great might be your
+confidence in your ingenuity and your resources, the hour would arrive
+when such a career would place you in a position as despicable as it was
+shameful. That hour has arrived, and that position is now filled by the
+Prince of Athens. You stand before the three individuals in this world
+whom you have most injured, and whom you were most bound to love and to
+protect. Here is a friend, who hazarded his prosperity and his existence
+for your life and your happiness. And you have made him a mere pander
+to your lusts, and then deserted him in his greatest necessities. This
+maiden was the companion of your youth, and entitled to your kindest
+offices. You have treated her infinitely worse than her Turkish captor.
+And for myself, sir, your father was my dearest friend. I endeavoured to
+repay his friendship by supplying his place to his orphan child. How I
+discharged my duty, it becomes not me to say: how you have discharged
+yours, this lady here, my daughter, your late prisoner, sir, can best
+prove.”
+
+“Oh! spare me, spare me, sir,” said the Prince of Athens, turning and
+falling upon his knee. “I am most wretched. Every word cuts to my
+very core. Just Providence has baffled all my arts, and I am grateful.
+Whether this lady can, indeed, forgive me, I hardly dare to think, or
+even hope. And yet forgiveness is a heavenly boon. Perhaps the memory
+of old days may melt her. As for yourself, sir--but I’ll not speak, I
+cannot. Noble Iskander, if I mistake not, you may whisper words in that
+fair ear, less grating than my own. May you be happy! I will not profane
+your prospects with my vows. And yet I’ll say farewell!”
+
+The Prince of Athens turned away with an air of complete wretchedness,
+and slowly withdrew. Iskander followed him.
+
+“Nicæus,” said Iskander; but the prince entered the grove, and did not
+turn round.
+
+“Dear Nicæus,” said Iskander. The prince hesitated.
+
+“Let us not part thus,” said Iskander. “Iduna is most unhappy. She bade
+me tell you she had forgotten all.”
+
+“God bless her, and God bless you, too!” replied Nicæus. “I pray you let
+me go.”
+
+“Nay! dear Nicæus, are we not friends?”
+
+“The best and truest, Iskander. I will to the camp, and meet you in your
+tent ere morning break. At present, I would be alone.”
+
+“Dear Nicæus, one word. You have said upon one point, what I could well
+wish unsaid, and dared to prophesy what may never happen. I am not made
+for such supreme felicity. Epirus is my mistress, my Nicæus. As there is
+a living God, my friend, most solemnly I vow, I have had no thoughts in
+this affair, but for your honour.”
+
+“I know it, my dear friend, I know it,” replied Nicæus. “I keenly feel
+your admirable worth. Say no more, say no more! She is a fit wife for a
+hero, and you are one!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 20
+
+
+After the battle of the bridge, Iskander had hurried to Croia without
+delay. In his progress, he had made many fruitless inquiries after Iduna
+and Nicæus, but he consoled himself for the unsatisfactory answers he
+received by the opinion that they had taken a different course, and
+the conviction that all must now be safe. The messenger from Croia that
+informed Hunniades of the escape of his daughter, also solicited his
+aid in favour of Epirus against the impending invasion of the Turks, and
+stimulated by personal gratitude as well as by public duty, Hunniades
+answered the solicitation in person at the head of twenty thousand
+lances.
+
+Hunniades and Iskander had mutually flattered themselves, when apart,
+that each would be able to quell the anxiety of the other on the
+subject of Iduna. The leader of Epirus flattered himself that his
+late companions had proceeded at once to Transylvania, and the Vaivode
+himself had indulged in the delightful hope that the first person he
+should embrace at Croia would be his long-lost child. When, therefore,
+they met, and were mutually incapable of imparting any information
+on the subject to each other, they were filled with astonishment and
+disquietude. Events, however, gave them little opportunity to indulge
+in anxiety or grief. On the day that Hunniades and his lances arrived at
+Croia, the invading army of the Turks under the Prince Mahomed crossed
+the mountains, and soon after pitched their camp on the fertile plain of
+Kallista.
+
+As Iskander, by the aid of Hunniades and the neighbouring princes, and
+the patriotic exertions of his countrymen, was at this moment at the
+head of a force which the Turkish prince could not have anticipated, he
+resolved to march at once to meet the Ottomans, and decide the fate of
+Greece by a pitched battle.
+
+The night before the arrival of Iduna at the famous fountain, the
+Christian army had taken up its position within a few miles of the
+Turks. The turbaned warriors wished to delay the engagement until the
+new moon, the eve of which was at hand. And it happened on that said eve
+that Iskander calling to mind his contract with the Turkish prince made
+in the gardens of the Seraglio at Adrianople, and believing from the
+superstitious character of Mahomed that he would not fail to be at the
+appointed spot, resolved, as we have seen, to repair to the fountain of
+Kallista.
+
+And now from that fountain the hero retired, bearing with him a prize
+scarcely less precious than the freedom of his country, for which he was
+to combat on the morrow’s morn.
+
+Ere the dawn had broken, the Christian power was in motion. Iskander
+commanded the centre, Hunniades the right wing. The left was entrusted
+at his urgent request to the Prince of Athens. A mist that hung about
+the plain allowed Nicæus to charge the right wing of the Turks almost
+unperceived. He charged with irresistible fury, and soon disordered the
+ranks of the Moslemin. Mahomed with the reserve hastened to their aid.
+A mighty multitude of Janissaries, shouting the name of Allah and his
+Prophet, penetrated the Christian centre. Hunniades endeavoured to
+attack them on their flank, but was himself charged by the Turkish
+cavalry. The battle was now general, and raged with terrible fury.
+Iskander had secreted in his centre, a new and powerful battery of
+cannon, presented to him by the Pope, and which had just arrived from
+Venice. This battery played upon the Janissaries with great destruction.
+He himself mowed them down with his irresistible scimitar. Infinite was
+the slaughter! awful the uproar! But of all the Christian knights this
+day, no one performed such mighty feats of arms as the Prince of Athens.
+With a reckless desperation he dashed about the field, and everything
+seemed to yield to his inspired impulse. His example animated his men
+with such a degree of enthusiasm, that the division to which he was
+opposed, although encouraged by the presence of Mahomed himself, could
+no longer withstand the desperate courage of the Christians, and fled
+in all directions. Then, rushing to the aid of Iskander, Nicæus, at the
+head of a body of picked men, dashed upon the rear of the Janissaries,
+and nearly surrounded them. Hunniades instantly made a fresh charge upon
+the left wing of the Turks. A panic fell upon the Moslemin, who were
+little prepared for such a demonstration of strength on the part of
+their adversaries. In a few minutes, their order seemed generally
+broken, and their leaders in vain endeavoured to rally them. Waving his
+bloody scimitar, and bounding on his black charger, Iskander called upon
+his men to secure the triumph of the Cross and the freedom of Epirus.
+Pursuit was now general.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 21
+
+
+The Turks were massacred by thousands. Mahomed, when he found that all
+was lost, fled to the mountains, with a train of guards and eunuchs,
+and left the care of his dispersed host to his Pachas. The hills were
+covered with the fugitives and their pursuers. Some fled also to the
+seashore, where the Turkish fleet was at anchor. The plain was strewn
+with corpses and arms, and tents and standards. The sun was now high in
+the heavens. The mist had cleared away; but occasional clouds of smoke
+still sailed about.
+
+A solitary Christian knight entered a winding pass in the green hills,
+apart from the scene of strife. The slow and trembling step of his
+wearied steed would have ill qualified him to join in the triumphant
+pursuit, even had he himself been physically enabled; but the Christian
+knight was covered with gore, unhappily not alone that of his enemies.
+He was, indeed, streaming, with desperate wounds, and scarcely could his
+fainting form retain its tottering seat.
+
+The winding pass, which for some singular reason he now pursued in
+solitude, instead of returning to the busy camp for aid and assistance,
+conducted the knight to a small green valley, covered with sweet herbs,
+and entirely surrounded by hanging woods. In the centre rose the ruins
+of a Doric fane: three or four columns, grey and majestic. All was still
+and silent, save that in the clear blue sky an eagle flew, high in the
+air, but whirling round the temple.
+
+The knight reached the ruins of the Doric fane, and with difficulty
+dismounting from his charger, fell upon the soft and flowery turf, and
+for some moments was motionless. His horse stole a few yards away,
+and though scarcely less injured than its rider, instantly commenced
+cropping the inviting pasture.
+
+At length the Christian knight slowly raised his head, and leaning on
+his arm, sighed deeply. His face was very pale; but as he looked up, and
+perceived the eagle in the heaven, a smile played upon his pallid cheek,
+and his beautiful eye gleamed with a sudden flash of light.
+
+“Glorious bird!” murmured the Christian warrior, “once I deemed that my
+career might resemble thine! ‘Tis over now and Greece, for which I would
+have done so much, will soon forget my immemorial name. I have stolen
+here to die in silence and in beauty. This blue air, and these green
+woods, and these lone columns, which oft to me have been a consolation,
+breathing of the poetic past, and of the days wherein I fain had
+lived, I have escaped from the fell field of carnage to die among
+them. Farewell my country! Farewell to one more beautiful than Greece,
+farewell, Iduna!”
+
+These were the last words of Nicæus, Prince of Athens.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 22
+
+
+While the unhappy lover of the daughter of Hunniades breathed his last
+words to the solitary elements, his more fortunate friend received, in
+the centre of his scene of triumph, the glorious congratulations of his
+emancipated country. The discomfiture of the Turks was complete, and
+this overthrow, coupled with their recent defeat in Bulgaria, secured
+Christendom from their assaults during the remainder of the reign
+of Amurath the Second. Surrounded by his princely allies, and the
+chieftains of Epirus, the victorious standards of Christendom, and the
+triumphant trophies of the Moslemin, Iskander received from the great
+Hunniades the hand of his beautiful daughter. “Thanks to these brave
+warriors,” said the hero, “I can now offer to your daughter a safe, an
+honourable, and a Christian home.”
+
+“It is to thee, great sir, that Epirus owes its security,” said an
+ancient chieftain, addressing Iskander, “its national existence, and
+its holy religion. All that we have to do now is to preserve them; nor
+indeed do I see that we can more effectually obtain these great objects
+than by entreating thee to mount the redeemed throne of thy ancestors.
+Therefore I say GOD SAVE ISKANDER, KING OF EPIRUS!”
+
+And all the people shouted and said, “GOD SAVE THE KING! GOD SAVE
+ISKANDER, KING OF EPIRUS!”
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg’s The Rise of Iskander, by Benjamin Disraeli
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISE OF ISKANDER ***
+
+***** This file should be named 7842-0.txt or 7842-0.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/4/7842/
+
+Produced by K. Kay Shearin
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation”
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
+of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.
+
+The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.