The Captain of the Janizaries Part 28

"Captain Urban of the engineers, is it not?"

"And who are you?" was the surly, yet half respectful, reply, as the one addressed glanced into the other's face.

"One who knows that the cannon you are casting are not heavy enough to lodge a ball against the old tower of Galata yonder across the Golden Horn, much less breach a fortification; and further, that all you can cast at this rate from now until the Turks take Byzantium would not enable you to throw ten shot an hour."

"By the bra.s.s toe of St. Peter! man, I was just saying the same thing to myself," replied Urban.

"And the Emperor's treasury, when he has bought himself a wife, will not have enough left to buy saltpetre with which to fire the guns, if he should allow you bra.s.s enough for the casting," added the stranger.

"True again, my man; and the Emperor's service in the meantime does not yield stipend enough for an officer to live upon decently. If you were better dressed, my prince of lazaroni, I couldn't afford to ask you to drink with me; but this cheap shop will shame neither your looks nor my purse. Come in."

"Who are you, my good fellow?" asked Urban, as he drained a cup of mastic-flavored wine. "Were not your voice different, and your p.r.o.nunciation of Greek rather provincial, with a slight Servian brogue, I would take you for one of our young engineers. You are not an Italian, spite of your garb."

"No," was the reply, "I was once in the employ of the Despot of Servia, engineer and artillery-man; but I think of entering the service of the Sultan. He pays finely, and gives one who loves the science of war a chance to use his genius."

"For such a chance and good pay I would serve the devil," said Urban.

"The Greek emperor here is no saint, and yet I have served him for a crust. I am not bound to him by any tie. If you find good quarters with the Turks, give me a hint, and I will join you."

The stranger eyed him closely as he said this, and replied in low tones--"Captain Urban, I am a Moslem; Captain Ballaban of the Janizary corps. And I bear you a commission from the Padishah. To seek you is a part of my business in Constantinople. I do not ask you to take my word for this, but if you will accompany me, I will give you proof of my authority. A thousand ducats I will put into your hand within an hour, with which you may taste the Padishah's liberality and imagine what it shall be when you accompany me to Adrianople."

The two men left the wine shop together and entered a bazaar. The stranger whispered to the merchant who was nearly buried amid huge piles of goods of every antique description; strange patterned tapestries, rugs of all hues and sizes, ebony boxes inlaid with silver and ivory, shields bossed and graven, spear-heads, cimeters and daggers. The salesman made as low a salam as his crowding wares would permit, and, opening a way through the heaps of merchandise, conducted the visitors into an inner room.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

To better understand the events just recited, we must trace some scenes which had been enacted elsewhere.

During the sojourn of Constantine and Morsinia in Constantinople, the Turks had made no progress toward the conquest of Albania. The walls of Croia, upon which they turned their thousands of men, and exhaustless resources of siege apparatus, served only to display the valor and skill of the a.s.sailants, the superior genius of Castriot, and the endurance of his bands of patriots.

The haughty Sultan Amurath, broken in health, more by the chagrin of his ill success than by exposures or casual disease, retired to Adrianople, in company with his son, Prince Mahomet, who was satisfied with a few lessons in the science of military manoeuvering as taught by the dripping sword of Castriot; and preferred to practice his acquirements upon other and less dangerous antagonists. Prince Mahomet had scarcely withdrawn to Magnesia in Asia Minor, and celebrated his nuptials with the daughter of the Turkoman Emir, when news was brought of the death of his father.

The prince was hardly twenty-one years of age; but his first act was ominous of the prompt.i.tude, self-a.s.sertion and diligence of the whole subsequent career of this man, whose success on the field and in the divan made him the foremost monarch of his age.

On hearing the news he turned to Captain Ballaban, for whom the young Padishah entertained the fondest affection, and who had accompanied him to Magnesia in the capacity of kava.s.s.--

"I shall leave to you, Captain, the duty of representing me at the burial of my royal father at Brusa, after which meet me at Adrianople."

Leaping into the saddle, he cried to the company about him, "Let those who love me, follow me!" and spurred his Arab steed to the h.e.l.lespont.

The magnificent cortege of the dead Sultan moved rapidly from the European capital of the Turks to their ancient one in Asia Minor. The thoughts of the attendants were more toward the new hand which would distribute the favors or terrors of empire, than toward the hand which was now cold.

Captain Ballaban was in time to join the reverent circle which committed the royal body to its ancestral resting place. They buried it with simple sepulchral rites, in the open field, unshadowed by minaret or costly mosque or memorial column; that, as the dying Padishah had said, "the mercy and blessing of G.o.d might come unto him by the shining of the sun and moon, and the falling of the rain and dew of heaven upon his grave."

Sultan Mahomet II. was scarcely within the seraglio at Adrianople when Captain Ballaban reported for duty. Pa.s.sing through the outer or common court, he entered by the second gate into the square surrounded by the barracks of the Janizaries, who, as the body guard of the monarch, occupied quarters ab.u.t.ting on those of the Sultan.

Near the third gate was gathered a crowd of Janizaries, in angry debate; for as soon as they realized that the firm and experienced hand of Amurath was no longer on the helm, the pride and audacity of this corps inaugurated rebellion.

"The Janizaries have saved the empire, let them enjoy it," cried one.

"Our swords extended the Moslem power, so will we have extension of privilege," cried another.

"Why should Kalil Pasha be Grand Vizier instead of our chief Aga?

Kalil is one of the Giaour Ortachi.[70]

"Down with the Vizier!" rang among the barracks.

"A mere child is Padishah! one of no judgment the Hunkiar!"

"My brothers," said Captain Ballaban. "You know not the new Padishah.

Well might Amurath have said to him what Othman said to Orchan: 'My son, I am dying: and I die without regret, because I leave such a successor as thou art.' Believe me, my brothers, if Mahomet is young, he is strong. If he is inexperienced in the methods of government, it is because heaven wills that he shall invent better ones."

"Your head is turned by the Padishah's favors," muttered an old guardsman.

"But am I not a Janizary?" cried the captain, "and it is as a Janizary that the Padishah loves me, as he loves us all. I once heard him say that the white wool on a Janizary's cap was more honorable than the horse tail on the tent spear of another. Old Selim here can tell you that, as a child, Mahomet was fonder of the Janizary's mess than of the feast in the harem."

"Yes," said old Selim, with voice trembling through age, but loud with the enthusiasm excited by the captain's appeal. "My hands taught Mahomet his first parries and thrusts; and he would sit by our fire to listen to the stories of the valor of our corps, and clap his hands, and cry 'good Selim, I would rather be a Janizary than be a prince.'"

The old man's eyes filled with tears as he added, "And all the four thousand prophets bless the Padishah!"

While this scene was being enacted without, the young Sultan was reclining, with the full sense of his new dignity, upon the sofa which had never been pressed except by the person of royalty. It was covered with a cloth of gold and crimson velvet, relieved by fringes of pearls. Before it was spread a carpet of silk, an inch thick, whose softness, both of texture and tints, made a luxuriant contrast with its border, which was crocheted with cords of silver and gold. The walls of his chamber were enriched with tiles of alabaster, agate, and turquoise. The ceiling was plated with beaten silver, hatched at intervals with mouldings of gold; near to which were windows of stained gla.s.s made of hundreds of pieces closely joined to form transparent mosaic pictures, through which the variegated light flooded the apartment.

Mahomet was himself in striking contrast with his surroundings. He was dressed in neglige, with loose gown, large slippers, and white skull cap.

Before the Sultan stood the Grand Vizier, Kalil, bedizened in the costume of his office:--an enormous turban in whose twisted folds was a band of gold; a bournous of brocade, enlivened by flowers wrought upon it in green and red; and a cashmere sash gleaming with the jewelled handle of his yataghan.

"They are even now in revolt, your Majesty," said the Vizier. "Your safety will be best served by severe measures. They say the iron has not grown into your nerves yet."

The Sultan colored. After a moment's pause he replied. "When Captain Ballaban comes we will think of that matter."

"The captain had just arrived as I entered, Sire."

"Then announce to the Janizaries that the seven thousand falconers and game keepers which my father allowed to eat up our revenue, as the bugs infest the trees, are abolished; and their income appropriated to the better equipment of the Janizaries."

"But, Sire, would you sharpen the fangs of----"

"Silence! I have said it," said Mahomet, striking his hand on his knee. "But what is this demand from Constantinople?"

"That the pay for the detention of your Cousin Orkran at Constantinople shall be doubled, or the Greeks will let him loose to contest the throne with your Majesty."

"a.s.sent to the demand," said the Sultan. "The time will the sooner come to avenge the insult, if we seem not to see it."

The Vizier continued looking at his tablets. "Maria Sultana[71] asks, through the Kislar Aga, that she may be allowed, since the death of her lord, to return to her kindred."

"Let her go! She is a Giaour whose cursed blood was not bettered by six and twenty years' habitation with my father. She is fair enough in her wrinkles for some Christian prince, and George Brankovitch needs to make new alliances."

"Hunyades"--said the Vizier.