Part 9 (1/2)
”Where is your comrade Musli?”
”Can you not give me a handle to my name, you dog of a ciaus?” roared Musli. ”I am a gentleman I tell you. So long as you were a Janissary, you were a gentleman too. But now you are only a dog of a ciaus. What business have you, I should like to know, in Begta's flower-garden?”
”To root out weeds. The pair of you, bound tightly together, must follow me.”
”Look ye, my friends!” cried Musli, turning to his comrades, ”that man is drunk, dead drunk. He can scarce stand upon his feet. How dare you say,” continued he, turning towards Pelivan--”how dare you say that two Janissaries, two of the flowers from Begta's garden, are to follow you when the banners of warfare are already waving before us?”
”I am commanded by the Kapu-Kiaja to bring you before him.”
”Say not so, you mangy dog you! Let him come for us himself if he has anything to say to us! What, my friends! am I not right in saying that the Kapu-Kiaja, if he did his duty, ought to be here with us, in the camp and on the battlefield? and that it is no business of ours to dance attendance upon him? Am I not right? Let him come hither!”
This sentiment was greeted with an approving howl.
”Let him come hither if he wants to talk to a Janissary!” cried many voices. ”Who ever heard of summoning a Janissary away from his camp?”
It was as much as Pelivan could do to restrain his fury.
”You two are murderers,” said he, ”you have killed the Sultan's Berber-Bas.h.i.+.”
At this there was a general outburst of laughter. Everybody knew that already. Musli had told the story hundreds of times with all sorts of variations. He had described to them how Halil had slain Ali Kermesh with a single blow of his fist, and how the latter's jaw had suddenly fallen and collapsed into a corner, all of which had seemed very comical indeed to the Janissaries.
So five or six of them, all speaking together, began to heckle and cross-question Pelivan.
”Are there no more barbers in Stambul that you make such a fuss over this particular one?”
”What an infamous thing to demand the lives of a couple of Janissaries for the sake of a single beard-sc.r.a.per!”
”May you and your Kapu-Kiaja have no other pastime in Paradise than the shaving of innumerable beards!”
At last Patrona stepped forth and begged his comrades to let him have _his_ say in the matter.
”Hearken now, Pelivan!” began he, ”you and I are adversaries I know very well, nor do I care a straw that it is so. I am not palavering now with you because I want to get out of a difficulty, but simply because I want to send you back to the Kiaja with a sensible answer which I am quite sure you are incapable of hitting upon yourself. Well, I freely admit that I _did_ kill Ali Kermesh, killed him single-handed. n.o.body helped me to do the deed. And now I have thrown in my lot with the Janissaries, and here I stand where it has pleased Allah to place me, that I may pay with my own life for the life I have taken if it seem good to Him so to ordain. I am quite ready to die and glorify His name thereby. His Will be done! Let the honourable Kiaja therefore gird up his loins, and let all those great lords who repose in the shadow of the Padishah draw their swords and come among us once for all. I and all my comrades, the whole Janissary host in fact, are ready to fall on the field of battle one after another at the bare wave of their hand, but there is not a single Janissary present who would bow his knee before the executioner.”
These words, uttered in a ringing, sonorous voice, were accompanied by thunders of applause from the whole regiment, and during this tumult Musli endeavoured to add a couple of words on his own account to the message already delivered by Patrona.
”And just tell your master, the Kiaja,” said he, ”and all your white-headed grand viziers and grey-bearded muftis, that if they do not bring the Sultan and the banner of the Prophet into camp this very day, not a single one of them will need a barber on the morrow, unless they would like their heels well shaved in default of heads.”
Pelivan meanwhile was looking steadily into Halil's eyes. There was such a malicious scorn in his gaze that Halil involuntarily grasped the hilt of his sword.
”Fear not, Patrona!” cried he jeeringly, ”Gul-Bejaze will never again be conducted into the Seraglio. She and your father-in-law have been captured as they were trying to fly, and the unbelieving Greek cattle-dealer has been thrown into the dungeon set apart for evil-doers.
As for that woman whom you call your wife, she has been put into the prison a.s.signed to those shameless ones whom the gracious Sultan has driven together from all parts of the realm, and kept in ward lest the virtue of his faithful Mussulmans should be corrupted. There you will find her.”
Patrona, like a furious tiger that has burst forth from its cage, at these words rushed from out the ranks of his comrades. His sword flashed in his hand, and if Pelivan had been doubly as big as he was, his mere size could not have saved him. But the leader of the ciauses straightway put spurs to his horse, and laughing loudly galloped away with his ciauses, almost brus.h.i.+ng the enraged Halil as he pa.s.sed, and when he had already trotted a safe distance away, he turned round and with a scornful Ha, ha, ha! began hurling insults at the Janissaries, five or six of whom had set out to follow him.
”Ha! he is mocking us!” exclaimed Musli, whereupon the Janissaries who stood nearest perceiving that they should never be able to overtake him on foot, hastened to the nearest battery, wrested a mortar from the topijis by force, and fired it upon the retreating ciauses. The discharged twelve-pounder whistled about their heads and then fell far away in the midst of a bivouac where a number of worthy Bosniaks were cooking their suppers, scattering the hot ashes into their eyes, ricochetting thence very prettily into the pavilion of the Bostanji Bas.h.i.+, two of whose windows it knocked out, thence bounding three or four times into the air, terrifying several rec.u.mbent groups in its pa.s.sage, and trundling rapidly away over some level ground, till at last it rolled into the booth of a gla.s.s-maker, and there smashed to atoms an incalculable quant.i.ty of pottery.
Here Pelivan finally ran it to earth, seized it, hauled it off to the Kiaja, and duly delivered the message of the Janissaries, together with the twelve-pound cannon-ball, at the same time reminding him that it was an old habit of the Janissaries to accompany their messages with similar little _douceurs_.
Pelivan had antic.i.p.ated that the Kiaja would foam with rage at the news, and would have the offending Janissary regiment decimated at the very least; but the Kiaja, instead of being angry, seemed very much afraid.
He saw in this presumptuous message a declaration of rebellion, and hurried off to the Grand Vizier as fast as his legs could carry him, taking the heavy twelve-pounder along with him.