Part 7 (2/2)

CHAPTER V

A MAN IN THE MIDST OF DANGERS

The Pasha of Janina, for thirty successive days, received nothing but ill tidings; and twice within the period of two waxing moons did his own power as steadily wane.

The first Job's-messenger which reached him was the Arnaut horseman, who had escaped from Stambul, and whom the Sultan's Tartars had pursued as far as Adrianople. This man told him that the attempt on the life of Gaskho Bey had failed, and that the captured a.s.sa.s.sins had revealed the name of their employer.

”Behold, I have wounded myself with my own sword,” exclaimed Ali. ”The prophetic voice of Seleucia spoke the truth; yea, verily, it spoke the truth.”

And still more of the prophecy was to be accomplished.

A few days later the report reached him that Eminah had cast herself at the feet of the Sultan and demanded judgment on the head of her husband.

”I knew it beforehand,” sighed Ali. ”The Prophet told it all to me.

Nevertheless, I shall stand at the gates of the Seraglio on a silver pedestal.”

Next day he heard that Gaskho Bey had been appointed Pasha of Janina.

”They act as if I were dead already,” murmured the veteran, with as bitter a feeling as if he already saw his youthful supplanter standing on his threshold. ”They bury me before I am dead, they divide my property before I have made my will. Nevertheless, one day I shall stand in the gates of the Seraglio on a richer pedestal.”

And with that Tepelenti sent forth his ciauses to all the towns within his domains, and to all the local governors, commanding all who had sons to send their sons and all who had brothers to send their brothers to him without delay. Then he ordered that every beast of burden that could be spared should be driven into the mountains, and that every barque they could lay their hands upon should be brought from the sea-coast into the Gulf of Durazzo. The a.r.s.enal of Janina bristled with terrific rows of cannons and bombs, and the commanders of the various army corps received instructions to concentrate their forces under the walls of Janina. At any rate, he was determined not to be taken unawares. At least, he would have time to unfurl the red flag before the dread message arrived from Stambul that the Padishah demanded his head.

Ah, ha! Ali Tepelenti would not surrender his gray beard so easily.

The hunters shall find out what manner of lion they are pursuing. A firman of the Grand Signior nominated the banished Pehlivan Pasha, Lord of Lepanto; Sulaiman Pasha was made Governor of Trikala, and the two mountain pa.s.ses guarding it; Muhammad Bey, whose father Ali had slain, was proclaimed Lieutenant-General of Durazzo. Thus they had divided his territories beforehand among his most bitter and most dangerous enemies. Ah! this will, indeed, be a magnificent chase.

Ali called together his sons, of whom Vely was Lord of Lepanto, Sulaiman of Trikala, and Mukhtar Pasha of Durazzo. He showed them on the map where their territories lay, and pointed out that if they lost them they would have nothing left. Let all three of them, therefore, gird upon their thighs the swords he intrusted to them and fight like men. The two younger sons swore fervently that they would conquer Fortune with their weapons, but Vely Bey preserved a gloomy silence.

”Art thou not my son?” asked the veteran.

”Allah hath so willed it,” answered Vely, ”and I also will fight, not for thee but for myself, not for life nor for what is on the other side of death, but because I have a little child in Lepanto, and the enemy is besieging that fortress. That little child is all the world to me. I will fight as only a father can fight for his son. I will rescue him if possible. Thy glory or thy ruin is alike indifferent to me. If the report reach thee that the enemy hath taken Lepanto and slain my son, then count no more upon the sword which thou hast intrusted to me.”

And with these words Vely turned his back on his father and softly withdrew.

As Ali saw his son quietly pa.s.s before him, it occurred to him whether it would not be as well to draw his pistol from his belt and shoot down the waverer before he quitted Janina. It is true that he had known all this beforehand. His own wife, his own sons, his own weapons, were to turn against him; but then, on the other hand, was he not to stand at the gate of the Seraglio on a silver pedestal?

A host of more than twenty thousand men stood under arms at his disposal, Albanians and Suliotes. A gallant host, if only it would fight. But for whom would it fight?--for him or for the Sultan? And these soldiers, when they saw him besieged, would they forget their murdered kinsfolk, their plundered fields, their burned villages? Did not every man of them know that Ali Tepelenti had been ama.s.sing treasures all his life, but had never troubled himself about good deeds? And now these treasures would surely be his ruin.

Time brought the answer. While his enemies were still afar off, the Suliotes arose, under the leaders.h.i.+p of a girl among the mountains of Bracori, where one of Ali's grandsons, Zaid, was recruiting soldiers, and ma.s.sacred Ali's men to the very last one. The last one, however, they suffered to escape and convey to Ali Zaid's severed head, at the same time informing him that it was sent by that girl the head of whose betrothed he had cut off before her very eyes, and she meant to send him still more.

This was the Greek's declaration of war. There at Janina, under his very nose, the Greek captain, Zunga, deserted the Albanian camp, and when the Grand Signior's army reached Trikala, and Gaskho Bey's herald galloped between the two armies with the imperial firman hanging round his neck, and summoned the va.s.sals to take up arms against the Pasha, the whole camp went over to Gaskho Bey. Alone, without the smallest escort, Sulaiman, Ali Pasha's youngest son, fled without having had the opportunity of testing his father's sword, and they captured him on the road.

Still he had the other two. Mukhtar Bey, with a powerful fleet, lay in the Gulf of Durazzo, and Vely Bey, wroth though he might be with his father, was a valiant warrior, and his son was in Lepanto, and save him he must and would.

But not only his son, some one else was there also. On that cruel, murderous day when Ali Pasha drowned the harems of his sons in the lake, one person among so many escaped, and this was Xelianthe. The damsel loved Vely as much as he loved her, and contrived to let him know that she was alive. Vely Bey sent her to Lepanto, and kept her in hiding there with his little son in order that she might be far from his father.

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