Blow upon blow rain down upon thee, thou veteran warrior! Thine armies go over to the enemy, thy friends leave thee desolate, thy sons betray thee, they capture thy cities without unsheathing their swords, thine allies turn their arms against thee, and with thine own artillery, of the best French manufacture, the Suliotes from the walls of Janina shoot down thine Albanian guards!
Ah, those Suliotes! How they can fight! If only now they would raise their swords on thy behalf, how thine enemies would fall in rows! But now it is thy soldiers that fall before them! A brother and a sister lead them on—a youth and a girl; the youth's name is Kleon, the girl's name is Artemis. Every time thou dost hear their names, it is as if a sword were being plunged into thy heart, for the girl is she whom thou wouldst have sacrificed to thy lust, and with whom thy wife didst escape; and thou never dost hear that name without hearing at the same time of the loss of thy bravest warriors!
Like the destroying angel Azrael, she fares through the din of battle, waving her white banner amidst the showers of bullets, and not one of them touches her. Before thy very eyes she plants the triumphant banner on thy bastions, and thou hast not strength of mind enough left to wish her to fall; nay, rather, when thou dost see her appear before thee, thou dost forbid thy gunners to fire upon her!
Danger approaches Janina from all sides. Thou must drain the cup, Tepelenti, to the very last drop, to the last bitter drop; and what then? Why, then thou wilt stand before the Seraglio on a silver pedestal!
One night there was a rolling of drums before the seven gates of Janina, and a bomb flying down from the heights of Lithanizza exploded in the market-place of the town. Up, up, ye Albanians! up, up, ye who have any martial blood in your veins, the enemy has seized the guns on the seven gates! Ali throws himself on his prancing steed, and in his hand is the good battle-sword which has befriended him in so many a danger. How many times has it not been the lot of Ali to lose everything but this one sword, and then to win back everything by means of it?
In a moment the army of the besieged stood in battle-array. Ali contemplated the ranks of the enemy, and a smile passed across his face. That worthy captain, Gaskho Bey, was leading his troops to the shambles. In an hour's time Ali will so completely have annihilated them that not even the rumor of them will remain behind. It will be a battle-field worthy of the veteran general. Every one who sees it will say—there is no escaping from him! Only let them advance, that is all! And again he was disappointed. At the first shot, before a sword had been drawn, his army surrendered to the enemy. If only they had fired once, the victory would have been his; but no, the army laid down its arms and the cunningly concealed gunners turned his own artillery against him.
It was all over! Only seven hundred Albanian horsemen remained with Ali, the rest either went over to the enemy or allowed themselves to be taken.
The old lion waved his sword above his head, and turning to his handful of heroes exclaimed, with a voice that rang out like a brazen trumpet, "Will ye behold Ali die?"
And with that he galloped towards the market-place of Janina, the faithful seven hundred following closely upon his heels.
The enemy poured into the town through every gate, but the market-place cut off one part of the town from the others, and the triumphant hordes came upon some very evil-looking trenches bristling with chevaux de frise, and the long narrow streets were swept by Ali's last twelve cannons, ably handled by the pasha's dumb eunuchs, who stood at their posts like the symbols of constancy on a tomb.
Ali Pasha put down his foot in the middle of Janina. Of his ten thousand horsemen only seven hundred remained with him. The enemy had twenty thousand men and two hundred guns, and yet all the skill of Gaskho Bey was incapable of dislodging Ali from the market-place of Janina, and although the enemy held one portion of the city, it was unable to take the other portion. If only they could have come to close quarters with him, they would have crushed him with one hand; but get at him they could not—that required skill, not strength.
At last the besiegers set the town on fire all around him, but still Ali did not budge from his place, and the wind blew the flames in the face of Gaskho Bey, who began to look about him uncomfortably when the two Suliote kinsfolk, Kleon and Artemis, at the head of their squadrons, urged him to boldly assault the market-place.
Tepelenti saw the girl with her white banner, and as her troops filled the broad space at the head of the square, he himself, at first, drew near to her. Four cannons were pointed at the Suliotes, loaded with chain-shot and broken glass. Ali looked towards them with a gloomy countenance, then stuck his sword in its sheath, bade his gunners turn the guns round, harness the horses to them, and take refuge in the citadel. He would not let a single shot be fired at the Suliotes.
The moment Ali turned his back, the besieging host captured the field of battle. They followed hard upon the heels of the retreating band all the way, and when Ali reached the bridge, the Spahis and Timariots, like two swarms of bees mingled together, gained the head of the bridge at the same time, and swarmed after him with a shout of triumph. The real struggle began on the bridge itself. Man to man they fought at close quarters with their shorter weapons (they could use no other), and clubs and dirks did bloody work in the throng which poured from two different quarters, along and over the overcrowded bridge like ants coming out of a slender reed. Six hundred of the Albanians succeeded in escaping into the citadel, and then, at Ali's command, the iron gates were clapped to, leaving the remaining hundred to perish on the bridge, where the overwhelming crowd swallowed them up. Each single Albanian fought against ten to twenty Timariots. The bridge rang with the din of combat, and trembled beneath the weight of the heavy crowd. Then suddenly the guns on both sides of the bastions which were attached to the bridge began to roar, the supports of the captured bridge collapsed, and the bridge itself, with its load of fighting Turks and Albanians, plunged down into the deep trenches below.
Down there were sharp-pointed stakes beneath the deep waters, and those of the besiegers who remained on the bank were horrified to perceive that not one of the fallen crowd reappeared on the surface of the water, while the water itself gradually grew redder and redder, till at last it was a bright crimson, painted by the blood of the corpses below.
And opposite to them stood the fast-barred gate.
Ah—ha! 'Tis not so easy to capture Tepelenti as ye thought.
Everywhere else ye have triumphed; ye have triumphed up to the very last point. And now ye have come to the last point, and your victories are worth nothing, for the last point is still to be won.
The fortress is unapproachable. The bastions are built in the middle of the lake, and from their dark quadrangular cavities rows of guns (each one of them a sixty-pounder) sweep the surface of the water, so that it is impossible to draw near in boats. On the land side one hundred cannons defend the bastions, and who can surmount the triple ditch?
Ye will never capture Ali there. He has sufficient muniments of war to last him for an indefinite period, and to show them how determined he was, he caused the solitary gate of the fortress to be filled with masonry and walled up. So the fortress has no longer a gate. Even desertion is now an impossibility.
There he will remain, then, walled up as in a tomb, buried alive! The only roads from thence lead to heaven or hell; the exit from the land side is guarded by the Suliotes; even if he could fly he could not escape from them.
The campaign is ended. The victorious Gaskho Bey proclaims himself Pasha of Janina. The whole of Epirus does homage to him, and deserts the fallen Vizier. In Stambul thanksgivings are offered up in the Ejub mosque and the church of St. Sophia for the accomplished victory, which is proclaimed, amidst the roaring of the cannons, by heralds in the great market-place; and all the newspapers of Europe amazedly report that the mighty and terrible adventurer, the ever-victorious veteran of seventy-nine, the party-leader who grew to such a height that it was doubtful whether he or the Sultan were the real ruler of Turkey, the man who had been the ally of the great Napoleon, who a few months before had sent as a present to England a precious dinner-service of pure gold worth 30,000 thaler, who had heaped up more treasures than any Eastern nabob—is suddenly crushed, annihilated, shut up in a fortress! It now only remains for him to die.
And not very long afterwards he did die. One night a couple of bold Albanian horsemen descended the bastions by means of a long rope, and, crossing the lake of Acheruz on a pine log, sought out Gaskho Bey in his camp that very night.
Ali Tepelenti was dead. They were the first to bear the joyful tidings to the bey. He died in his grief, in his wretchedness. Perhaps also he had taken poison. On the morrow, at three o'clock, they had arranged to bury him in the fortress! Before his death he had called together his lieutenants, and taken an oath of them that they would defend the fortress to the very last gasp of the very last man. His treasures were piled up in the red tower—more than thirty millions of piastres. He had left it all to them. But what was the use of all this treasure to them if they could not get out of this eyrie? They would not surrender themselves, for Ali had made them swear by every Turkish saint that they would defend the fortress to the death. But the rank and file were of a different opinion; they would joyfully retire from the fortress if they were assured of a free forgiveness. Gaskho Bey had only to stretch out his hand and the fortress of Janina, the impregnable fortress with its two hundred cannons and its enormous mass of treasure, would be his.
Early in the morning the gray moonless flag, the sign of death, was waving on the red tower of Janina, and the guns overlooking the water fired three and thirty volleys, whose echo proclaimed among the mountains that Ali Tepelenti was dead. Within the fortress sounded the roll of the muffled drums, and it was also possible to distinguish the dirges of the imams.
Gaskho Bey and his staff, from the top of the Lithanizza hills, watched the burial of the pasha. There was an observatory here from whose balcony they could look down into the court-yard, and the splendid telescopes, which the sultan had got from Vienna, rendered powerful assistance to the onlookers, who through them could observe the smallest details of what was going on in the court-yard of the fortress; one telescope in particular brought the objects so near that one could read the initial letters of the verses of the Kuran which the imams held in their hands.
In the midst of a simple coffin lay Ali Pasha. It was really he; of that there could be no doubt. Let every one look for himself! There he lay—dead, cold, motionless. His lieutenants and his servants stood around him weeping. Those who walked along by his side stooped down to kiss his hands.
In the town outside the Suliotes knew of Ali's death, and by way of compliment they fired a bomb into the citadel. But the match of the bomb was too short, and it exploded in the air.
From the observatory they could see very well the fright of the crowd assembled in the court-yard at the whizzing of the bomb over their heads, and how every one looked anxiously at the little round white cloud there; only he who lay dead in the midst of them remained cold and tranquil. He will never again be disturbed by the roar of an exploding bomb.
The imams raised him on their shoulders, and, amidst the melancholy dirges of the mourners and the muffled roll of the drums, they carried him away to his open tomb, for his grave was already dug.
The Moslems do not put their dead in a closed coffin; they only half board the tomb up in order that the angels of death may have room to place the corpse in a sitting posture when they come to take an account of his actions.
They really did lower Ali Tepelenti into his tomb.
The garrison fired a triple salute, the imams thrice sang their sacred verses, and then came the gravediggers and cast the earth upon the corpse. A large marble slab was standing there, and with it they pressed down the earth on the tomb, at the same time placing two turbaned headstones, one at each end of the tomb.
They really did bury Ali.
When the imams and the officers had departed from the covered tomb, Gaskho Bey summoned the keepers of the observatory to the summit of Lithanizza and laid this command upon them:
"Let a man stand in front of this telescope from morning to evening (and mind that he is relieved every four hours), and never withdraw his eye from that tomb. At night, when the moon goes down, a rocket is to be fired every five minutes, that the watchers may see the tomb and never leave it out of sight, and report upon it every hour."
What? Is Gaskho Bey actually afraid that old Ali, a veteran of seventy-nine, will be able to arise from his tomb and hurl away that heavy marble slab with his dead hands? There are men of whom it is impossible to believe that they are dead, and whom people are afraid of even when they are buried.
Every hour till late in the evening they reported to Gaskho Bey that the tomb remained unchanged, and all the night through not a soul approached it.
Tepelenti, then, was really dead—totally dead.
Early next morning Gaskho Bey heard a very curious story.
In the artillery barracks, where the round guns stood, a drummer had laid down his drum close beside him, with the drumsticks leaning over it, when he suddenly perceived the two drumsticks begin to move of their own accord over the tightly drawn skin of the drums as if some invisible hand wished to beat a tattoo. The drummer cried out at this marvel, and fancied that a dzhin was in the drum.
Gaskho Bey would not believe it till he had himself gone to the barracks and seen with his own eyes how the two drumsticks vibrated with sufficient force to tap the drum pretty loudly, moving in a spiral line backward and forward across it, tap-tap-tapping as they went.
"It is very marvellous!" cried the bey; and he immediately summoned the imams to drive the dzhin out of the drum.
The imams set to work at once. They fetched their fumigators and their sacred books, and they fumigated the drum with nose-offending odors and recited over it drum-expelling exorcisms in a shrill voice. And certainly if the devil was in that drum, and had anything of a nose or ears, he would have been obliged to escape from that noise and stink. So long as the drum was in any one's hand the drumsticks did not move, but when it was put down on the ground the mysterious tap-tapping began again.
The imams went on howling, and horribly they howled.
The chief of the observatory was present during this scene. As a French renegade he was a man of some education, and therefore he did not accept the theory of the dzhins. When he perceived that the imams were not successful in expelling the evil spirits, he called Gaskho Bey aside and whispered in his ear:
"I know nothing about your dzhins, and don't understand what you are driving at with all this noise and stench, but I can tell you that this beating of the drum is a sign that invisible hands are at work here."
"What?"
"It means that we ought to get away from here, for they are digging mines beneath us, and that is why the ground trembles and the drumsticks vibrate."
Gaskho Bey began smiling. He had as little idea of sapping and mining as the French renegade had of Turkish monsters.
"How superstitious thou art, my brave moosir!" said he, shrugging his shoulders and looking down upon the Frenchman.
The latter, however, did not remain there much longer, but hastened as quickly as he could to the summit of the Lithanizza.
After about an hour and a half's more hubbub the imams succeeded in expelling the dzhin. The drum grew quiet, the excitement subsided, and the soldiers were instructed to lay two swords crosswise in front of the gate, so that the spirit might not be able to come back any more; and with that termination of the affair every one was satisfied.
Opposite the gate of the fortress of Janina, at the head of the collapsed bridge, stood a stone building, fenced about with redoubts and palisades, which had now fallen into the hands of the Suliotes. This building had been chosen by the two Greek kinsfolk for their dwelling-place. They wanted to get as close to Ali as possible; they would not suffer him to escape even in the shape of a bird or a spirit; their large siege-guns were pointed at the walled-up gate. Let him surrender or find his tomb in the fortress.
And lo! he had found his tomb without consulting them about it. In vain they had sharpened their weapons against him—the sword of Death is quicker and cuts down sooner. They had not been able to reach him on the field of battle; they had not been able to plunge their avenging swords into his heart; they had not been able to bring his gray head to the block; it had been reserved for him to pass quietly away—to die in his bed, untroubled, unmolested, to die the death of the righteous.
Kleon and Artemis were sitting sullenly in a room of the fort by the light of a flickering candle. The girl had absently divested herself of her cuirass and was walking up and down the room with folded arms. There was not a single womanly trait in her face. It was as cold as the face of a statue.
"So he is dead, then—dead!"
This phrase she repeated to herself again and again. She seemed unable to get away from it.
"Ali has died, and not by my hand."
Kleon was strikingly like his sister; indeed, his young face scarcely differed at all from hers, but in his eyes quite another sort of flame sparkled. Her face, full of dark thoughts, was much more terrible; his was free and open, and full of radiant hope.
"My triumph has lost its worth if Ali is dead," she said, with a sigh. "The old fox has dodged my steel by taking refuge in hell. Oh, would that I might follow him thither also, that I might tear his gray beard, which he has bathed in my kinsman's blood!"
"Behold! here is my gray beard!" cried a voice at that instant from the other end of the room, and the brother and sister beheld Ali Tepelenti standing before them.
The terror-stricken young people involuntarily crossed themselves. Horror nailed them to the ground and petrified all their limbs, when they saw what they imagined to be a spectre standing there before them in the self-same gray robe in which he had been buried two days before.
"Behold, here I am, Ali Tepelenti!"
With that the spectre clapped his hands, and from every corner of the room rushed forth Albanians armed to the teeth, and before the brother and sister could approach their weapons, they were overpowered and tied together.
It was really Ali Tepelenti who stood before them.
They had put him away underground, it is true, but underground there were paths and passages only too well known to him. The whole spectacle of the interment had been arranged by himself, and there was an exit from the bottom of his tomb into subterranean corridors. When the general joy and satisfaction at the victory was at its height, he was abroad and at work.
A strongly built subterranean trench had been constructed below the ditches encircling the redoubts, and its ramifications extended to the fort at the head of the bridge. Ali had so completely surprised the garrison that they had not been able to fire a shot; the Suliotes had been surprised and disarmed while in their dreams.
Up, up, Gaskho Bey! Arise, Muhammad Aga! To horse, ye captains! Seize thy sword, Pehliván Pasha! Danger is at hand! This is a bad night for sleeping!
Suddenly a frightful explosion shook the ground, just as if the earth was being wrenched from its hinges, and amidst a flame brighter than the light of day, which seemed to leap up to the very stars, huge round cannons were seen flying. The gunners in the barracks were also pitched into the air. The minarets tottered and fell before the terrific shock, every building round about crumbled into ruins. In a moment one-half of the town was reduced to a rubbish-heap, and the next moment a hail of burning beams and lacerated human limbs fell back upon the ruins from the blood and fire besmudged heavens.
It was thus that Ali Pasha signified his resurrection to his enemies! He had gone underground, and now from underground he began the war anew.
Gaskho Bey, his gigantic body half undressed (he had just leaped out of bed), rushed to the end of the street, and was so confused that he asked all whom he met where he was. The suddenly aroused soldiers, half mad with terror, rushed hither and thither in confusion, crying out, one for his horse, another for his weapons. And above their heads, more terrible than heaven's thunder-bolts, resounded the dread cry, "Ali, Ali!" There comes the entombed pasha on a white horse, with his white beard; who will dare to look him in the face? The panic-stricken throng falls in thousands beneath the swords of the Albanians, blood flows in streams in the streets of Janina, and Ali Pasha, the dead man, the buried captain, fills the hearts of their warriors with the fear of death. There is none who can stand against him.
Only Pehliván, the stalwart hero, was able to prevent the vast besieging army from being scattered altogether by a handful of Arnauts. He rallied the fugitives outside the town, and, while Ali's men-at-arms were murdering every one inside, he quickly seized all the gates, advanced in battle-array, and stayed the triumph of the veteran captain.
And enough had surely been done.
Three thousand of the besiegers lay dead, the guns were spiked or overthrown, and the leaders of the Suliote band were prisoners—and all this the result of Ali's nocturnal rally! It was time for him to return.
Pehliván thus recaptured the town and marshalled his men in the market-place, without pursuing Ali any further. But he had reckoned without Gaskho Bey, who now came rushing up and furiously accosted him:
"Why hast thou not pursued him right into the citadel?"
"It would not do to press Ali too closely," replied the practised general; "let him fly, if fly he will."
At this, Gaskho Bey, foaming with rage, tore the sword out of Pehliván's hand (where he had left his own sword he could not have said for the life of him), and, placing himself at the head of a band of Spahis, began to pursue the retreating foe.
Ali was proceeding quite leisurely towards the fortress, as if he did not trouble himself about his pursuers, although they were six times as numerous as his forces.
When Gaskho Bey had got within ear-shot, Tepelenti shouted back to him:
"Thou hast come to a bad place, brave Bey. This ground is mine, and what is beneath it is mine also, dost thou not know that yet?"
Gaskho Bey naturally did not understand a word of this till, at a gesture from Ali, a rocket flew up into the air, at which signal those inside the fortress suddenly exploded all the mines which had been dug under all the streets of the town. Tepelenti had prepared these during his fortunate days by piercing water conduits and making subterranean vaults large enough to hold great stores of gunpowder.
Ali rallied his own bands at the head of the bridge, and when, suddenly, the explosion burst forth along the whole length of the street, and the destroying flame tossed the pursuing squadrons into the air one after the other, he amused himself by contemplating the ruin from the top of the fort, and was the last who disappeared in the hidden tunnel. For a long time those in the fortress could hear the agonized cries of the vanquished. One-third of the besieging army had been destroyed in a single night. The rest quitted the accursed town, which seemed to have been built over hell itself, and took up a position in the fields outside and on the heights of Lithanizza.
The rising sun revealed a horrible spectacle. The town of Janina no longer existed, the beautiful tall houses, the cupolaed mosques, the slender white minarets, the imposing barracks—where were they? Instead of them, all that could be seen was a shapeless mass of piled-up ruins; here and there, on a dark background, scorched by flickering flames, a huddle-muddle of broken rafters, mangled corpses, charred black or gaping hideously open, lay scattered about amongst the rubbish, and from the mouth of a conduit at the side of the bastion there trickled sadly down into the lake a dark red stream, which wound its way in and out amongst the ruins.
"Poor children, how sweetly they are sleeping!"
Thus spoke Ali.
In a corner of the red tower, sleeping side by side, were the two Suliote kinsfolk, Artemis and Kleon. They slept in each other's embrace, and not even the gaze of Ali awoke them.
"Don't arouse them," said Ali to his dumb eunuchs; "let them sleep on!"
And again he regarded them with a smile—they slept so soundly. And yet they knew not when they fell asleep whether they would ever awake again.
Ali did not arouse the slumberers. Thrice he sent to see if they had awakened, but he would not have them disturbed. At last the hand of the youth made his chain clank, and both of them opened their eyes at the sound.
"I was on my way to Akro-Corinth," said he, rubbing his large dreamy eyes with his hands, "and I saw them rebuilding the Parthenon."
"I stood at Thermopylæ," said the girl, "and the enemy fell before me by thousands."
"And now we shall go to the block," sighed Kleon, listening as the iron doors of his dungeon slowly opened.
"Be strong!" whispered the girl, pressing the hand of her brother which was enlaced in hers.
The dumb eunuchs surrounded them, and led them before Ali Pasha.
The pasha was sitting on a divan, and still wore his funeral robe; all the furniture was shrouded with cinder-colored cloth; there was nothing golden, nothing that sparkled in the room.
The brother and sister stood before him, pressing each other's hands.
"My dear children," said the pasha, in a voice that trembled with emotion, "don't look into each other's eyes, but look at me!"
At this unusual tone, at these kindly words, the brother and sister did look at him, and perceived that the old man was looking at them sadly, doubtfully, and that his eyes were full of tears.
Ali beckoned to the eunuchs, and they freed the brother and sister from their chains.
"Behold, ye are free, and may return to your homes," said Ali.
These words had the effect of an electric shock upon the youth, and his face lit up with a flush of joy.
"Why dost thou rejoice?" cried Artemis, casting a severe look upon him; "dost thou not perceive that the monster is mocking us? He only wants to excite joy within us that he may kindle our hopes, and then make death all the more bitter to us. Why dost thou make sport of us, thou old devil? Slay us quickly, or slay us with lingering torments, 'tis all one to us, but do not mock us!"
Tepelenti devoutly raised his eyes to heaven.
"My soul is an open book before you. Ye are free. Ye free Suliotes, we understand one another. I have sinned grievously against you, but ye have revenged yourself upon me. I burned your villages, ye, in return, have destroyed my fortresses. I have pillaged your lands, and ye have taken my possessions from me. I have slain your bridegroom and snatched thee from thy parent's house; thou hast cut off the head of my favorite grandson, and ravished from me my favorite wife. Now we are quits, and owe each other nothing. Go in peace!"
There was so much sincerity, so much repentant, contrite grief in the words of Ali, that the watchful maid began to regard him with curious sympathy.
"Thou art amazed at my change of countenance," said Ali, observing the impression his words had produced on Artemis. "Thou hast not seen me like this before! That other Ali is no more. He died, and was buried. A penitent kneels before thee who has a horror of his past sins, and begs thy forgiveness, kissing the hem of thy garment."
And, indeed, Ali fell down on his knees before Artemis, in order that he might kiss the border of her robe, and breaking forth into moans, shed tears at the girl's feet, so that she involuntarily bent down and raised him up.
She was a woman, after all, and could not bear to see any one weeping before her.
"Listen now to what I say," continued the pasha, "and do not fancy that Ali has gone mad. This night I saw a vision. A beauteous and radiantly majestic maiden descended at my threshold from the midst of the bright, open heavens, surrounded by a company of winged children's heads. The maiden looked at me so gently, so kindly. A divine light shone from her countenance, and, on the earth beneath, all the flowers turned their faces towards her as if she were the sun. In the arms of this heavenly maid sat a child, but what a child! At the sight of him, even I, old man as I am, trembled with joy. Round about the head of this child was a wreath of stars, and the smile upon his face was salvation itself. And when I raised my trembling hands towards her, the heavenly lady and the child extended their arms towards me, and from the lips of the maiden, in a sweet, inexpressibly sweet voice, came these words: 'Ali Tepelenti, I call thee!' And I, all trembling, fell down on my knees before her."
The brother and sister involuntarily knelt down beside Ali and stammered, full of devotion, "Blessed be the most holy Virgin!"
Ali Pasha continued the recital of his vision.
"With my face covered, I listened to the words of the bright apparition, and now she addressed me once more in a dolorous voice, which pierced my very heart, 'Ali Tepelenti, behold me!' And when I raised my face, lo! I beheld seven swords pointing towards the heart of the heavenly maid, and I felt my hand grow numb with fright. 'Ali Tepelenti,' said the lady for the third time, 'these swords thou hast thrust into my wounds, and my blood be upon thy head!' And I, groaning, made answer, 'How could I have done so when I do not know thee?' And she replied, 'He who persecutes mine, persecutes me, and who robs my temples, robs me; didst thou not pull down the churches of Tepelen, Turezzo, and Tripolizza?' 'I swear that I will build them up again,' I replied, raising my hand to give solemnity to my vow; and as I spoke one of the seven swords fell from the heart of the lady. 'Didst thou not rob the Suliotes of their children,' inquired the heavenly vision anew, 'in order to bring them up as Moslems?' 'I swear that I will make them Christians again!' and at these words the second sword fell out of her heart. 'Didst thou not carry off their maidens for thine own harem?' 'I swear that I will give them back to the Suliotes!' and with that the third sword fell from her heart. 'Didst thou not gather together immense treasures from the heritage of widows and orphans?' And, smiting the ground with my head, I answered: 'All my treasures shall be dedicated to thy service.' And thus she recorded my mortal sins one by one, and thus I swore to make rigorous reparation for them with an irrefragable oath, and as many times as I so swore a sword fell at my feet. Finally but one sword remained in her bleeding heart, and then she asked me, 'Hast thou not sought the death of that Suliote brother and sister who were the most faithful defenders of my altars? Hast thou not plunged them into thy dungeon, and is not their death already resolved upon in thy heart?' And, terrified, I laid my hand upon my heart, for verily that thought was in it, and not without a fierce struggle, I stammered, 'Oh, heavenly vision! these two young people are my mightiest enemies, and they have sworn to kill me; yet if thou dost command it I will lay my gray head in their hands, and I will be in their power, not they in mine.' At these words the last sword also fell from her heart, and she answered, 'Ali Tepelenti, take these swords in thy hand, and do as thou hast said.' And with that she reascended into heaven, the clouds closed behind her, and I remained alone with the seven swords in my hand, on which seven vows were written. This vision I saw in the night that has just past; and now reflect upon my words."
The minds of the brother and sister were deeply agitated. The old Moslem before them had spoken with such devotion, with such enthusiasm of his vision, that it was impossible to question its reality. The emotion visible in his countenance, the tears in his eyes, the tremor in his voice, proved that he really felt what he said. While they were standing there pondering over the old man's vision, he took them by the hand and led them into his treasure-chamber, and showed them the heaps and heaps of gold and silver, the coins piled up in vats, and the steel which had been melted into bars and stacked up there.
"My treasures are at your disposal—use them as you will." Then, selecting from amongst his choicest diamonds two stones, worth a hundred thousand sequins, he placed them in the hands of Kleon and Artemis, and said, "These I will send to the war-chest of the Hetæria!"
Why, what does Ali mean by mentioning this secret society, which had already undermined the whole Turkish Empire—just as he had undermined Janina? Perhaps he would fire these mines also! Of a truth the arm of Ali reached as far as Stambul! aye, and as far as Bucharest also.
And now he led the brother and sister into his armory, and there they saw whole chests full of firearms from the manufactories of the best English and French makers.
"You see, I could arm a whole realm with the weapons I have in Janina."
The brother and sister sighed; one and the same thought suddenly occurred to them both.
"Tepelenti," said the girl.
"Command me!"
"Thou hast done much harm to us, we also have done much harm to thee; let us act as if we now saw each other for the first time."
"I forgive you."
"I will forget that thou didst put to death my betrothed in this room, and thou forget that we killed thy grandson. Call to mind, moreover, that not only are we captives in this fortress, but thou art also surrounded by the hosts of thine enemies."
"I alone am a captive," said Ali, humbly. "I swear by Allah, as I have promised the holy Virgin, that I will let you and all your companions free! What may happen to you after that I care not. Ali has not long to live now. But your days of combat are yet to be, and if ever the time should come when your plans need the help of arms and treasures, remember that there is enough of both at Janina."
Artemis was constrained to believe in the sincerity of Ali's words.
And now the pasha, with his own hand, selected two beautiful Damascus blades from among his store of weapons, and bound them to the girdles of the brother and sister. What a warmth of self-confidence came over them when they felt once more that they had swords by their sides!
Then he led them down to their companions, who were assembled in the court-yard of the fortress, and informed them that they were free to go whither they would. And then he put wine and pilaf before the jubilant crowd of captives, and left them to eat and drink with his own Arnauts; and, beneath the peace-making influence of the good wine, it was not very long before they fell to kissing one another and swearing eternal fellowship like brothers.
Then Ali produced his best long-range rifles, with bayonets attached, and distributed them amongst the captive Suliotes; he had not the least fear now that they would turn these arms against him. Then he kissed the brother and sister on their foreheads, and, giving them his blessing, let them through that secret tunnel which led into the town.
Meanwhile, in Gaskho Bey's camp outside curious reports began to circulate. A pair of captured Albanians, who had been surprised amongst the ruins of the town when Ali retreated, began to make the most astounding revelations before their judges; amongst other things they maintained that the Suliotes, in the camp of the bey, had a secret understanding with the Pasha of Janina—their former master. And, as a matter of fact, every one had observed that Ali had quitted the field of battle rather than fire upon the Suliotes.
But the captives confessed still more. They said that Artemis and Kleon had had secret meetings with Ali in the subterranean tunnel, and had surrendered to him voluntarily. It must have been so, argued those who had survived the last sally. Ali had made his assault from the tower at the head of the bridge, and yet the Suliotes there had not so much as fired a gun to signify his approach.
The captives also insisted that Ali was going to make another sally on the following night against the besieging army, and then all the Christians in the camp of the bey would join him.
These reports, with still more terrible variations, began to extend throughout the whole army, and here and there slight mêlées even took place between Christians and Moslems. The Osmanlis began to threaten the foreign soldiers, and the latter began to everywhere form themselves into independent little bands for mutual protection.
Gaskho Bey and Pehliván Pasha hastily summoned a council of war at this disquieting symptom, and it was there resolved that the Greeks should be disarmed. For this purpose they assembled them together in the midst of the camp, surrounded them with Turkish veterans, and then, pointing the guns at them, summoned them to instantly lay down their arms or they should all be shot down like dogs.
The Suliotes and Albanians listened to this summons with terror. They beheld the bloodthirsty masses around them, and reflected how many times men had lost their lives by surrendering the very weapons wherewith they might have defended themselves, and, in their hesitation, they chose out twelve youths from amongst their ranks to go to the general and ask the reason of this alarming demonstration.
Gaskho Bey was still in a towering passion, and the bold speech of the young men irritated him still further. He had them dragged into the midst of the camp, in front of the assembled battalions, and commanded that their heads should be cut off, proclaiming at the same time that any who dared to disobey this order should meet with the same fate.
The garments of the twelve young men were stripped from off them in the presence of their comrades, and the usual head severing giant stood behind them, ready to force them down upon their knees and decapitate them one by one. But he had not yet cut off a single head when a loud noise was heard coming from the direction of Janina; it was the liberated sister and brother. Artemis and Kleon, at the head of their bands. They had beheld from the tower of Janina the danger which threatened their comrades, and arrived just as the executioners were preparing to carry out Gaskho Bey's commands.
The Suliotes scattered here and there looked at each other. A tremendous roar filled the air—a roar of grief and rage and terror—breaking forth into despair. Those from before, those from behind, fell upon the ranks of the Moslems. In a moment Gaskho Bey's whole camp was converted into a chaotic mob, where Albanians and Spahis. Suliotes and Timariotes, fought together without any fixed plan, and, in utter defiance of all military science, recognizing neither friend nor foe. In vain the standard-bearers raised their banners, in vain the officers of the Spahis roared themselves hoarse, and the Sorbadzhis and the gigantic Gaskho Bey himself did the same. The army was so completely disorganized that not even the victorious enemy could make head or tail of it. Towards evening the Suliotes, under Kleon and Artemis, captured Lithanizza; while Gaskho Bey, in his despair, fled all the way to Durazzo. When he got there he discovered that of all his army only twelve ciauses remained with him. The whole host had fled higgledy-piggledy along the first road it came across, leaving behind it all its artillery, baggage, and ammunition wagons.
But Ali Pasha, sweetly smiling, calmly looked on from the red tower of Janina, while the enemy worried itself to death, and the besieging thousands scattered in every direction without his having to waste a single cannon-shot upon them.
But as I have already said. Ali was often so reduced as to possess nothing but his sword, and with this same sword he would win everything back again.
And now we will let the rumor of great deeds rest a while; we will close our eyes to the wars that followed upon the siege of Janina; we will shut our ears against the echoes of the names of a Ulysses, Tepelenti, a Kolokotrini, those heroes who shook the throne of the Sultan, and all of whom the Pasha of Janina called his very dear friends. While these bloody wars are raging we will turn into the grove of Dodona, where formerly the ambiguous utterances of sacred prophecies were always resounding in the ears of contemplative dreamers. Let us go back eighty years! Let us seek out that quiet little glen whither neither good report nor evil report ever comes flying, whose inhabitants know of nothing but what happens amongst their own fir-trees; why, even the tax-collecting Spahi only light down amongst them to levy contributions once in a century!
The house of Halil Patrona's consort no longer stands beside the rippling stream. Nobody even knows the tomb in which the beautiful, the elfin Gül-Bejáze now lies; Gül-Bejáze, the White Rose,9 blooms no longer anywhere in that valley. Nobody knows the name even; only the oldest old grandmother in the circle of the spinning maidens can tell them tales, which she also has heard from her mother or her grandmother, of a mad lady who used to dwell in this valley and lay a table every evening and prepare a couch every night for an invisible spirit, whom she called her husband, and whom nobody saw but herself.