Halil the Pedlar: A Tale of Old Stambul by Mór Jókai (lightweight ebook reader .TXT) 📖

from behind. But there is nothing hostile about all this in your eyes, you are perfectly contented with your fate. War might deprive you of your Khannish dignity, while in peaceful times you can peaceably retain it. It matters not to you whose servant you may be so long as you hold sway in your own domain, and you call him a blockhead who does not look after himself first of all. Yes, Kaplan Giraj, I am a blockhead no doubt, for I am not afraid to risk losing this wretched life, awaiting my reward in another world. I was not born in silks and purples but in the love of my country and the fear of God, while you are wise enough to be satisfied with the joys of this life. But, by way of reward for betraying your good friend, may Allah cause you, one day, to become the slave of your enemies, so that he who was wont to be called Kaplan[17] may henceforth be named Sichian."[18]

Even had nothing been preconcerted, Kaplan Giraj's sword must needs have leaped from its sheath at these mortally insulting words. Furiously he leaped from his seat with his flashing sword in his hand.

[Pg 254]

Ah! but now it was the turn of the Grand Vizier and all the other conspirators to be amazed.

The Janissaries who had been placed by the side of the popular leaders never budged from their seats, and not one of them drew his weapon at the given signal.

Such inertia was so inexplicable to the initiated that Kaplan Giraj remained standing in front of Halil paralyzed with astonishment. As for Halil he simply crossed his arms over his breast and gazed upon him contemptuously. The Janissary officers had disregarded the signal.

"I am well aware," said Halil to the Khan with cold sobriety—"I am well aware what sort of respect is due to this place, and therefore I do not draw my sword against yours even in self-defence. For though I am not so well versed in European customs as you are, and know not whether it is usual in the council-chambers of foreign nations to settle matters with the sword, or whether it is the rule in the French or the English cabinet that he who cuts down his opponent in mid-council is in the right and his opinion must needs prevail—but of so much I am certain, that it is not the habit to settle matters with naked weapons in the Ottoman Divan. Now that the council is over, however, perhaps you would like to descend with me into the gardens where we may settle[Pg 255] the business out of hand, and free one another from the thought that death is terrible."

Halil's cold collected bearing silenced, disarmed his enemies. The eyes of the Grand Vizier and the Khan surveyed the ranks of the Janissary officers, while Halil's faithful adherents began to assemble round their leader.

"Then there is no answer to the words of Halil Patrona?" inquired Kabakulak at last tentatively.

They were all silent.

"Have you no answer at all then?"

At this all the Janissaries arose, and one of them stepping forward said:

"Halil is right. We agree with all that he has said."

The Grand Vizier did not know whether he was standing on his head or his heels. Kaplan Giraj wrathfully thrust his sword back again into its scabbard. All the Janissary officers evidently were on Halil Patrona's side.

It was impossible not to observe the confusion in the faces of the chief plotters; the well-laid plot could not be carried out.

After a long interval Kabakulak was the first to recover himself, and tried to put a new face on matters till a better opportunity should arise.

"Such important resolutions," said he, "cannot be[Pg 256] carried into effect without the knowledge of the Sultan. To-morrow, therefore, let us all assemble in the Seraglio to lay our desires before the Padishah. You also will be there, Halil, and you also, Kaplan Giraj."

"Which of us twain will be there Allah only knows," said Halil.

"There, my son, you spake not well; nay, very ill hast thou spoken. It is a horrible thing when two Mussulmans revile one another. Be reconciled rather, and extend to each other the hand of fellowship! I will not allow you to fight. Both of you spoke with good intentions, and he is a criminal who will not forget personal insults when it is a question of the commonweal. Forgive one another and shake hands, I say."

And he seized the reluctant hands of both men and absolutely forced them to shake hands with each other. But he could not prevent their eyes from meeting, and though swords were denied them their glances of mutual hatred were enough to wound to the death.

After the council broke up, Halil's enemies remained behind with the Grand Vizier. Kaplan Giraj gnashed his teeth with rage.

"Didn't I tell you not to let him speak!" he exclaimed, "for when once he opens his mouth he turns[Pg 257] every drawn sword against us, and drives wrath from the breasts of men with the glamour of his tongue."

So they had three days wherein to hatch a fresh plot.

The session of the Divan was fixed for three days later. Halil Patrona employed the interval like a man who feels that his last hour is at hand. He would have been very short-sighted not to have perceived that judgment had already been pronounced against him, although his enemies were still doubtful how to carry it into execution.

He resigned himself to his fate as it became a pious Mussulman to do. He had only one anxiety which he would gladly have been rid of—what was to become of his wife and child.

On the evening of the last day he led Gül-Bejáze down to the shore of the Bosphorus as if he would take a walk with her. The woman carried her child in her arms.

Since the woman had had a child she had acquired a much braver aspect. The gentlest animal will be audacious when it has young ones, even the dove becomes savage when it is hatching its fledgelings.

Halil put his wife into a covered boat, which was soon flying along under the impulse of his muscular[Pg 258] arms. The child rejoiced aloud at the rocking of the boat, he fancied it was the motion of his cradle. The eyes of the woman were fixed now upon the sky and now upon the unruffled surface of the watery mirror. A star smiled down upon her wheresoever she gazed. The evening was very still.

"Knowest thou whither I am taking thee, Gül-Bejáze?" asked her husband.

"If thou wert to ask me whither thou oughtest to send me, I would say take me to some remote and peaceful valley enclosed all around by lofty mountains. Build me there a little hut by the side of a bubbling spring, and let there be a little garden in front of the little hut. Let me stroll beneath the leaves of the cedar-trees, where I may hear no other sound but the cooing of the wood-pigeon; let me pluck flowers on the banks of the purling brook, and spy upon the wild deer; let me live there and die there—live in thine arms and die in the flowering field by the side of the purling brook. If thou wert to ask me, whither shall I take thee, so would I answer."

"Thou hast said it," replied Halil, shipping the oars, for the rising evening breeze had stiffened out the sail and the little boat was flying along of its own accord; then he sat him down beside his wife and continued, "I am indeed sending thee to a remote and hidden valley, where a little hut stands on the[Pg 259] banks of a purling stream. I have prepared it for thee, and there shalt thou dwell with thy child."

"And thou thyself?"

"I will guide thee to the opposite shore, there an old family servant of thy father's awaits thee with saddled mules. He loves thee dearly, and will bring thee into that quiet valley and he must never leave thee."

"And thou?"

"This little coffer thou wilt take with thee; it contains money which I got from thy father; no curse, no blood is upon it, it shall be thine and thy children's."

"And thou?" inquired Gül-Bejáze for the third time, and she was very near to bursting into tears.

"I shall have to return to Stambul. But I will come after thee. Perhaps to-morrow, perhaps the day after to-morrow, perhaps later still. It may be very much sooner, it may be much later. But thou wait for me. Every evening spread the table for me, for thou knowest not when I may arrive."

The tears of Gül-Bejáze began to fall upon the child she held to her breast.

"Why weepest thou?" asked Halil. "'Tis foolish of thee. Leave-taking is short, suspense only is long. It will be better with thee than with me, for thou wilt have the child while I shall have nothing left, yet I do not weep because we shall so soon meet again."[Pg 260]

Meanwhile they had reached the shore, the old servant was awaiting them with the two mules. Halil helped his wife to descend from the boat.

Gül-Bejáze buried her head in her husband's bosom and tenderly embraced him.

"Go not back, leave me not alone," said she; "do not leave us, come with us. What dost thou seek in that big desolate city when we are no longer there? Come with us, let us all go together, vanish with us. Let them search for thee, and may their search be as vain as the search for a star fallen from Heaven; it is not good for thee to be in high places."

Halil made no reply. His wife spoke the truth, but pride prevented him from escaping like a coward when he knew that his enemies were conspiring against him. Presently he said to Gül-Bejáze with a reassuring voice:

"Do not be anxious on my account, I have a talisman with me. Why dost thou smile? Thou a Christian woman dost not believe in talismans? My talisman is my heart, surely thou believest in it now? It has always helped me hitherto."

And with that Halil kissed his wife and his child and returned to the boat. He seized the oars in his powerful hands and was soon some distance from the shore. And as he rowed further and further away into the gloom of evening he saw his abandoned[Pg 261] wife still standing on the shore with her child clasped to her breast, and the further he receded the keener grew his anguish of heart because he durst not turn back to them and kiss and embrace them once more.

Early in the morning the gigantic Halil Pelivan, accompanied by twelve bostanjis, appeared among the Janissaries with three asses laden with five little panniers, containing five thousand ducats which he emptied upon the ground and distributed among the brave fellows.

"The Grand Vizier sends you this, my worthy comrades," cried he.

This was the only way of talking sense to the Janissaries.

"And now I have to ask something of you."

"Say on!"

"Is there among you any fellow who loves nobody, who would be capable of slaying his own dear father if he were commanded so to do and well paid for it, who is afraid of nothing, has no bowels of compassion, and cannot be made to falter by the words of the wise?"

In response to this challenge, hundreds and hundreds of the Janissaries stepped out of their[Pg 262] ranks, declaring that they were just the boys to satisfy Pelivan's demands.

Pelivan selected from amongst them two-and-thirty of the most muscular and truculent, and commanded them to follow him into the Seraglio.

Once there he conducted them into the Porcelain Chamber, made them squat down on the precious carpets, put before them quantities of the most savoury food, which they washed down with the rich wine of Cypress and the heating Muskoveto, a mysterious beverage generally reserved for the Sultan's use, which is supposed to confer courage and virility. When they had well eaten and drunken moreover, Pelivan supplied them with as much opium as they wanted.

Shortly afterwards there came out to them the Grand Vizier, the lame Pasha, Topal Ozman, Patsmajezade, the chief Justiciary of Rumelia, the cobbler's son, and the Tartar Khan, who patted their shoulders, tasted of their food, drank out of their goblets, and after telling them what fine brave fellows they were, discreetly withdrew.

The Divan meanwhile had assembled in the Hall of Lions.

There were gathered together the Ulemas, the