Part 25 (1/2)
He commanded the topijis to extinguish their matches. Next he ordered that the gate of the Seraglio should be thrown open to the people.
Then, having bidden every one to stand aside, he went alone towards the gate in his imperial robes, with a majestic bearing.
No sooner was the gate thrown open than the mob streamed into the court-yard with torches and flas.h.i.+ng weapons in their hands, standing for a moment dumb with astonishment at the appearance of the Sultan.
He was no longer ridiculous, as he had been in that foreign garb. The majestic bearing of the prince stilled the tumult for an instant, but for an instant only. The following moment a hand was extended from among the mob of rebels which tore the Sultan's caftan from his shoulder.
Mahmoud grew pale at this audacity, and this pallor was a fresh occasion of danger to him, for now he was suddenly seized from all sides. The Sultan turned, therefore, and perceiving Thomar, called to him, ”Defend my harem!” and, at the same time freeing his sword-arm, he drew his sword, waved it above his hand, and, while his foes were waiting to see on whom the blow would fall, he threw the sword to Thomar, exclaiming, ”Defend my son!”
The young ichoglan grasped Mahmoud's sword, and, while the captured Sultan disappeared in the mazes of the mob, he and his comrades returned to the inner court-yard, and, barricading the door, fiercely defended the position against the insurgents. He had now to show himself worthy of that sword, the sword of the Sultan.
Gradually two thousand ichoglanler and three thousand bostanjis gathered round the young hero. The Janissaries already lay in heaps before the door, which they riddled with bullets till it looked like a corn-sifter. But the youths of the Seraglio repelled every onset.
And why did not the Sultan remain with them? They would have defended him against all the world: Who knew now what had become of him?
Perhaps they had killed him outright.
The Janissaries speedily perceived that they could not have done anything worse for themselves than to have brought torches with them, for thereby they were distinctly visible to the defenders of the Seraglio, and every shot that came from thence told.
”Put out the torches!” shouted Kara Makan, who was holding a huge concave buckler in front of him, and felt a third bullet pierce through the twofold layers of buffalo-hide and graze his body.
The torches went out one after another, whereupon the s.p.a.cious court-yard was darkened; only the flash of firearms cast an occasional gleam of light upon the struggling ma.s.s.
It might have been two hours after midnight when suddenly there was a cessation of hostilities. Both sides were weary, and ceased firing; the Janissaries whispered amongst themselves, and at last in the midst of a deep silence, Kara Makan's thunderous voice made itself heard:
”Listen, all of ye who are inside the Seraglio. Ye are good warriors, and we are good warriors also, and it is folly for the Faithful to destroy one another. We did not take up arms to slay you and plunder the Seraglio, neither do we wish to kill the Padishah nor the heir to the throne; but we would rescue them from the hands of the traitors who surround them, and we would also deliver the realm from faithless Viziers and counsellors. Give us, therefore, the prince, the Sultan's son. Of a truth no harm shall befall him, and we will thereupon quit the court-yard of the Seraglio and trouble n.o.body within these doors.
If, however, you will not grant our request, then Allah be merciful to all who are within these beleaguered walls.”
The Kizlar-Agasi conveyed this message into the Seraglio, and besiegers and besieged awaited with rapt attention the reply of the Valideh; for the decision lay with her--she was superior in rank to all four of the a.s.seki sultanas.
After the lapse of a quarter of an hour the Kizlar-Agasi returned, and signified to the besiegers that the prince would be handed over to them.
The Janissaries received this message with a howl of triumph, while the ichoglanler shrugged their shoulders.
”They are not all women in there for nothing,” said Thomar, savagely, to the Kizlar-Agasi, and he remained standing in the gate, that he might, at any rate, kiss the young prince's hand and whisper to him not to go.
The Janissaries relit their torches and crowded towards the gate.
Inside reigned a pitch-black darkness.
Not long afterwards footsteps were audible in the dark corridor, and, escorted by two torch-bearers, the prince descended the steps. He had on the same garment which he wore when he went on horseback to the Mosque of Sophia during the Feast of Bairam. How the people had then huzzahed before him! He wore pantaloons of rose-colored silk, yellow buskins with slender heels, a green caftan embroidered with gold flowers, and a handsome yellow silk vest b.u.t.toned up to his chin. His ribbons and b.u.t.tons were made so as to represent brilliant fluttering b.u.t.terflies incrusted with precious stones.
On reaching the gate he beckoned to the torch-bearers to stand still, sent back the Kizlar-Agasi, and, proceeding all alone to the gate, commanded that it should be flung open.
While this was being done Thomar pressed close up to him, and seizing the prince's hand, kissed it, at the same time whispering in his ear, ”Go not; we will defend you if you remain here.”
The prince pressed Thomar's hand and whispered back, ”I must go; you keep on defending the Seraglio!” And with that he embraced the youth and kissed him twice with great fervor.
Thomar was somewhat startled by this burning, affectionate kiss, and wondered what it meant. The darkness did not allow him to distinguish the prince's features; and when he tried to detain him once more the prince hastily disengaged himself and stepped forth from under the dark vault among the Janissaries.
Thomar covered his eyes with his hands; he did not want to see the fate of the prince at that moment. It was quite possible that the blood-thirsty might cut him down on the spot in a sudden access of fury.
The prince stepped forth among the rebels.