BOOK I.
Michael the Pilgrim

A DECISION once taken brings peace to a man’s mind and eases his soul. With my brother Andy and my dog Rael I had turned my back upon Rome and all Christendom and had started on my way to the Holy Land to atone for my sins.

And so when I stood, free as a bird, in the great square of that city of marvels, Venice, I seemed to have risen from the stinking darkness of the grave to a new life. The sights and smells of carnage and the plague in Rome grew fainter in my mind. My body breathed deeply of the sea wind, and my eager eyes gazed their fill at all the Turks, Jews, Moors, and Negroes moving freely about in their varied dress. I seemed to be standing at the gates of the fabled Orient, and I was seized by an irresistible desire to behold strange peoples, and the countries whence those proud vessels, flying the Lion of St. Mark, had sailed into the city.

Neither Andy nor I had anything to fear from the officials of the illustrious Republic, and could settle there or travel as we wished. I had obtained from a shrewd Venetian at an exorbitant price a pass to which was attached a notary’s seal. Since I felt confident that no one knew anything of so remote and obscure a country as my native Finland, I gave my true Finnish name of Mikael Karvajalka. This appeared on the document as Michael Carvajal, for which reason I was afterward alleged to be of Spanish birth, although it was expressly stated on the document that I had formerly belonged to the court of the King of Denmark and had rendered useful service to the Signoria of Venice at the sack of Rome in that summer of 1527.

I realized that not a whole lifetime would suffice for all that there was to see and admire in Venice, though I would gladly have stayed at least long enough to worship in each of the churches. But the city offered many and powerful temptations, and so I began my search for a ship to carry us to the Holy Land. It was not long before I fell in with a man down by the harbor who had a crooked nose. He greatly applauded my intention and told me that I had come to Venice just at the right time. A large convoy, under the protection of a Venetian war galley, was shortly to sail for Cyprus, and it was more than likely that a pilgrim ship would take advantage of the escort.

“This is the best season of the year for so blessed an enterprise,” he assured me. “You will have a following wind and need fear no storms. Powerful galleys mounting many cannon will protect the merchantmen from infidel pirates, who are an ever present menace to single vessels. Moreover, in these disturbed and godless times there are but few who undertake the pilgrimage, so you will not be overcrowded. Good and varied food may be obtained on board for a reasonable price, and there’s nothing to prevent travelers from taking their own provisions. Agents in the Holy Land arrange the journey from the coast to Jerusalem in the best and cheapest manner, and the credentials that are to be bought at the Turkish house here safeguard the pilgrim from all molestation.”

When I asked him how much he thought the passage would cost, he looked at me with a quivering lip, and stretching forth his hand impulsively he said, “Master Michael, God must have willed our meeting. For if the truth must be told, this lovely city of ours is full of rogues who batten on the guileless foreigner. I’m a devout man, and my dearest wish has been to make the pilgrimage myself one day. But as my poverty prevents me, I’ve resolved to devote my life to the welfare of others more fortunate than myself, and facilitate their journey to the sacred places where our Lord Jesus Christ lived, suffered, died, and rose from the dead.”

He wept bitterly, and I felt great compassion for him. Quickly drying his tears, he looked me frankly in the eye and said, “I ask only a ducat for my services. By this payment you guarantee your sincerity of purpose, and at the same time relieve yourself of all further concern in the matter.”

I could do no less than trust him, for as I walked with him along the quayside he greeted many captains, merchants, and customs officers, who smiled and jested good-humoredly when they saw me in his company. I gave him his ducat, therefore, warning him at the same time that I was not a rich man and wished to travel cheaply. He reassured me, and drove a good bargain with the merchant from whom I bought a pilgrim’s cloak and a new rosary. Having attended me to my lodging, he promised to call and tell me when our vessel was to sail.

In a fever of impatience I wandered about Venice until at last one afternoon my friend with the crooked nose arrived breathless, and urged us to make all haste to the ship, as the convoy was to sail the following day at dawn. We threw our belongings together and were rowed out to our vessel, which lay at anchor in the harbor. In comparison with the great merchantmen she looked suspiciously small, but my crooked-nosed friend explained this, saying that all the space on board was reserved for pilgrims and that no cargo was carried. The pock-marked captain received us courteously, and when we had counted out eighteen gold ducats each into his outstretched hand, vowed that it was solely out of regard for his crooked-nosed friend that he allowed us so cheap a passage.

The purser showed us to our sleeping places in the hold, which was strewn with clean straw, and pointing to a jar of sour wine, he invited us to make full use of the dipper and refresh ourselves at the owners’ expense, as the joyous day of departure was at hand. Our only light came from a couple of feeble lamps, so that despite the uproar all about us we were unable to see much of our fellow passengers.

My friend with the crooked nose left the captain to come and bid us farewell. He embraced me warmly, and with tearful blessings wished us a fortunate journey.

“Master de Carvajal,” he said, “I can fancy no happier day than that which brings you back safe and sound. Once more let me earnestly warn you against confiding in strangers, however ingratiating their manner. And should you encounter infidels, remember to say,

‘Bismil-lah—irrahman—irrahim’!

This pious Arabic greeting is certain to win you their good will.”

Having once more kissed me on both cheeks he climbed over the side, his purse jingling as he did so, and dropped into the rowing boat. But I will say no more of this heartless man, whose very memory is offensive. For no sooner had the patched sails been hoisted, and with timbers creaking and water slapping to and fro in the bilge the vessel stood out to sea, than it was borne in upon us how grievously we had been swindled. The green copper domes of the Venetian churches had not sunk below the horizon before I was forced to look truth in the eye.

Our little craft rolled as sluggishly as a sinking coffin in the wash of the great merchantmen, and lagged farther and farther astern, while from the war galley flew all manner of signals urging us to keep better station. The crew was a tattered, thievish rabble, and from my conversation with other pilgrims I soon perceived that I had paid an excessive sum for our passage, of which the crooked-nosed fellow had no doubt pocketed half. For there were among us some poor wretches who had been allowed to camp on deck, and they had paid no more than a ducat for the whole voyage.

A man lying forward suffered from spasmodic twitches in his limbs. He had an iron band riveted about his waist, and wore heavy shackles on his ankles. An old fellow with burning eyes crawled about on hands and knees and swore that he would make the whole journey from the shores of the Holy Land to Jerusalem in this way. He woke us all one night with fearful screams, and explained that he had seen white angels floating round the ship, and that they had settled to rest on the yards.

But the pock-marked captain was no bad seaman. He never quite lost touch with the convoy, so that every evening as the stars came out we sighted the masthead lights of the other vessels, which had hove to for the night or lay at anchor in some sheltering bay. When we grew alarmed at being left too far astern he readily invited us to man the oars. It would be wholesome exercise, he said. Indeed, we found ourselves obliged to lend the crew a hand at this task several times, although not more than fifteen of the hundred pilgrims were fit for it. The men were for the most part too old, crippled, or sickly, and the women, of course, could not be put to such work.

Among these was one young woman who on the very first day had aroused my curiosity. Both her dress and her graceful bearing distinguished her from the rest. Her silken gown was adorned with silver brocade and pearls, and she wore jewels also, so that I marveled how she could have fallen among such grimy company. An enormously fat serving woman was in constant attendance. The strangest thing about the lady was that she never appeared unveiled. Even her eyes were concealed. At first I fancied that vanity impelled her to protect her complexion from the burning rays of the sun, but I soon found that she retained her veil even after sunset. Yet one could discern enough of her features to be assured that they were neither disfigured nor ugly. As the sun gleams through thin cloud, so did her youthful charm gleam through the filmy veil. I could not imagine what grievous sin had brought her on this pilgrimage and induced her to hide her face.

Seeing her stand alone at the rail one evening, just after sunset, I felt impelled to approach her, but at my coming she quickly turned away her head and dropped the veil over her face, so that I had no time to glimpse more than the curve of her cheek. But her hair fell in fair curls from beneath her round headdress, and as I contemplated this hair I felt a weakness in my knees, and was aware of such attraction as a magnet exercises upon iron filings.

I stood at a seemly distance from her and, like her, surveyed the fading wine color of the sea. But I was keenly conscious of her presence, and after a while she turned her head slightly as if expecting me to speak. I therefore summoned up my courage and said, “We’re fellow voyagers, bound for the same goal. In the sight of God and in expiation of sin we are all equal, so don’t be offended with me for addressing you. I long to talk to someone of my own age—someone different from all these cripples.”

“You interrupt my prayers, Master de Carvajal,” she said in a tone of rebuke. Nevertheless, the rosary disappeared between her slender fingers, and she turned toward me readily. I started with pleasure on finding that she knew my name, for it was a sign that she took some interest in me. But in my humility I was frank with her.

“Don’t call me that, for I’m not of noble birth. In my own language the name is Karvajalka, and it belonged to my foster mother, who died long ago. She gave it to me out of pity, because I never knew who my father was. But I’m not quite penniless, nor without education, for I have studied at several learned universities. You would give me most pleasure by calling me simply Michael, the pilgrim.”

“Very well,” she assented cordially. “And you must call me Giulia, without asking about my family or my father’s name, or even my birthplace. Such questions would only revive painful memories for me.”

“Giulia,” I asked her at once, “why do you veil your face, when both the sound of your voice and the gold of your hair hint at its beauty? Is it to prevent the thoughts of us weak men from straying into forbidden paths?”

But at these indiscreet words she sighed deeply, as if I had inflicted a mortal wound, turned her back upon me, and began to sob. In deep dismay I stammered apologies and assured her that I would die rather than cause her the least distress.

When she had wiped her eyes under cover of the veil she turned to me again and said, “Pilgrim Michael, just as one man bears a cross upon his back, and another hangs iron fetters upon his limbs, so have I sworn never to show my face to a stranger in the course of this voyage. Never ask me to uncover it, for such a request could only increase the burden God has laid upon me from birth.”

She said this so gravely that I was deeply moved. Seizing her hand I kissed it and gave my solemn promise never to tempt her to the breaking of her vow. I then asked her to take a cup of sweet malmsey with me in all propriety, from a cask which I had brought on board. After some modest hesitation she accepted on condition that her old nurse might be of our company, for fear of ill-natured talk. We therefore drank together from my silver goblet, and as we passed this from one to the other, the light touch of her hand sent a thrill through my body. She on her part offered me sweetmeats, wrapped in silk in the Turkish fashion. She would have given some to my dog, but Rael was waging war below against the rats, and so Andy joined us instead and to my satisfaction engaged the serving woman in animated conversation.

When we had been drinking for some time, Giulia’s nurse Johanna began to regale Andy with questionable stories of priests and monks, and I too ventured to entertain Giulia with a gallant anecdote or two. She was in no way offended, but laughed her silvery laugh and under cover of darkness let her hand rest more than once on my wrist or knee. So we continued until far into the night, while the dark seas sighed around us, and the heavens, filled with the silver dust of stars, soared in splendor overhead.

Andy took advantage of our new acquaintance by setting Johanna to mending our clothes, and we also pooled our provisions. The garrulous nurse at once took possession of the ship’s galley and thenceforth cooked for us, for we should otherwise have fallen sick, as many other pilgrims did, from the wretched fare provided. But Andy was beginning to observe me carefully, and at length he said to me in a tone of warning, “Michael, I’m an ignorant man and simpler minded than yourself, as you have all too often remarked. But what do we know of this Giulia and her companion? Johanna’s conversation is better suited to a brothel keeper than to a decent woman, and Giulia hides her face in so sinister a manner that even the crew are uneasy. So be careful, Michael, lest one fine day you should discover a crooked nose behind that veil.”

His words cut me to the heart, and I wished to hear no more talk of crooked noses, and so I rebuked him for his suspicions. Next day we sighted the southern point of Morea, now held by the Turks. The weather conditions and the treacherous currents of these waters compelled our convoy to make for the sheltering harbor of the island of Cerigo, which was defended by a Venetian garrison. There we cast anchor, to wait for a favorable wind. No sooner had we done this, however, than our escorting war galley put to sea again in pursuit of a suspect sail or two that had just appeared on the horizon. For in these waters, Dalmatian and African pirate vessels were often known to lurk. Rowing boats swarmed about the pilgrim ship, offering fresh meat, bread, and fruit for sale, and the captain sent our own boat ashore for water, being unable to berth alongside the quay without paying harbor dues.

Brother Jehan, a fanatical monk of our company, told us that the island of Cerigo lay under a curse. It was here, he said, that one of the goddesses of the idolatrous Greeks was born. The pock-marked captain bore him out in this and declared that the ruins of the palace of Menelaus, the unhappy king of Sparta, were still to be seen here. His wife Helen had inherited her disastrous beauty from the goddess who had been born of the foam on the shores of the island. Forgetful of conjugal duty, this Helen had eloped with a divinely handsome youth and thus brought about the terrible Trojan War. I understood from the captain that it was the goddess Aphrodite who had been born off this island, which the ancient Greeks called Cytherea, but I found it hard to understand why the loveliest of all pagan deities had chosen this bleak, rocky, inaccessible isle for her birthplace.

I was therefore filled with a burning desire to go ashore and contemplate the relics of a former age, and discover whether indeed there were any grounds for the tales the ancient Greeks had told. And when I had related to Giulia all I could remember of Aphrodite’s birth, Paris’s golden apple, and Helen’s unlawful love, I found no difficulty in persuading her to accompany me. Her curiosity was, if possible, more intense than my own thirst for knowledge.

Seamen rowed the four of us ashore, and I bought a basket filled with new bread, dried meat, figs, and goat’s cheese. I could understand little of the villagers’ dialect, but when a goatherd showed me a path, pointed to the top of a hill, and constantly repeated the word palaio- polis, I knew that he was showing us the way to an ancient city. We walked uphill beside a stream until we came to a quiet reach where in ancient days many bathing pools had been built. Although the stones were weatherworn and stiff grass grew in the cracks, I could count a dozen of these pools; after a ten days’ voyage and a warm climb we could have beheld no pleasanter or more welcome sight. Andy and I plunged in at once, and washed ourselves clean with the fine sand; the two ladies also undressed and bathed in another pool behind a screen of bushes. I heard Giulia splashing and laughing with delight.
With the soft breeze murmuring through shiny green laurel leaves and Giulia’s laughter ringing in my ears, my fancy peopled these pools with the nymphs and fauns of legend, and I should have felt no surprise if the goddess Aphrodite herself, in all her glory, had stepped toward me from the thicket.

When we had eaten, Andy remarked that he felt drowsy, and Johanna too, after a hostile glance at the rocky crag and the dense pine forests on its slopes, began to bewail her swollen feet.

So Giulia and I set forth alone together on an arduous climb to the summit. We found there two marble columns whose capitals had fallen to the ground and been buried under sand and grass. Behind them stood the bases of many square pillars and the ruins of a temple doorway. Among the ruins of the temple itself a larger-than-life-size statue of a goddess stood on a marble pedestal. She gazed upon us in regal beauty, her limbs covered by the thinnest of veils. The temple had fallen in ruins about her, but still in her divine loveliness she surveyed us mortals, though one thousand, five hundred and twenty-seven years had passed since our Saviour’s birth.

But I was thinking neither of my Saviour nor of the excellent resolutions that had moved me to undertake my long journey. I seemed transported into the golden, pagan age when men knew neither the thorns of doubt nor the anguish of sin; in the face of this potent spell I should have done well to flee. I know I should have fled, but I did not. I did not, and more swiftly than I can write the words we had lain down to rest in the warm grass. I caught Giulia in my arms and besought her to uncover her face, so that no chilling estrangement should linger between us. My boldness was encouraged by the conviction that Giulia would not have been so ready to come with me to this lonely place unless in her heart she had shared my desire. Nor did she resist my lips and hands, but when I would have torn the veil from her face she grasped my wrists with the strength of despair and begged me most movingly to desist.

“Michael, my friend, my beloved, do as I say. I too am young, and we live but once. But I cannot uncover my face for you, for it would part us. Why can you not love me without beholding it, when all my tenderness awaits you?”

But I could not be content. Her resistance made me the more stubborn, so that by force I dragged the veil from her grasp and bared her face. She lay in my embrace with her fair curls over my arm and her dark-lashed eyes tightly closed. Her lips were like cherries, and my caress had brought a warm glow to her cheeks. I was at a loss to imagine why she had so long and so tantalizingly veiled her features from me, for they were beautiful. But she kept her eyes closed, and covered them with her hands; she was unresponsive to my kisses.

Ah, that I had been content with this! But I urged her wildly to open her eyes. She shook her head violently and all her joy had melted away; she lay in my arms like one dead, and not my most daring caresses could revive her. Dismayed I released her and begged her earnestly to open her eyes and look into mine, that she might read there the intensity of my longing.

At length she said sadly, “Then it’s over between us, Pilgrim Michael, and may this be the last time that I seek love. You’ll soon forget me when our voyage is ended. Let us hope that I shall forget you as easily. For the love of God, Michael, don’t look into my eyes. They are evil.”

I knew of course that there are people who without any malicious intent can injure others with their gaze. My teacher, Doctor Paracelsus, believed that the evil eye could cause a fruit tree to wither. But it was on account of such beliefs that my wife Barbara was beheaded and burned in a German city, although she was relatively innocent. In my despair I rejected all the evidence that had been heaped against her as malice and superstition, and so incurred the guilt of heresy. Nor did I believe now that Giulia’s fair face could be marred by evil eyes, and I laughed. Perhaps my laughter was a little forced, because of her grief, but when I swore that I did not fear her gaze she turned pale and at last withdrew her hands. Her frightened eyes, clear as raindrops, looked into mine.

My blood turned to ice, my heart stopped, and I stared back, as mute and horror stricken as herself.

Her eyes were beautiful indeed, yet they lent a sinister look to her face, for they were of different colors. The left eye was blue as the sea, but the right was nut brown; I had never before seen such a thing—I had never even heard of it—and I sought in vain a natural explanation.

We gazed long at one another, face to face, and instinctively I recoiled and sat a little distance, still gazing, until she too sat up and covered her breast. All warmth had drained from my body and cold shivers ran down my spine; what malignant planets must have presided at my birth! The only woman I had ever loved was beheaded and burned as a witch, and now that another had captured my heart, she too was cursed by God and must veil a face that brought horror and consternation to all beholders. My life was accursed; it might be that within myself there lurked some fatal affinity with what we call witchcraft. I remembered how Giulia’s presence, from the time I first beheld her, had attracted me like a magnet, and I could no longer feel that this was merely youth calling to youth. In my heart I suspected some dread mystery.

I was in no condition to express my thoughts to Giulia, and when she had sat for a little while with bowed head, twisting a grass blade about her slender fingers, she rose and said coldly, “Well, Michael, you’ve had your way and it’s time for us to go.”

She walked away with her head held high, and I leaped up to rejoin her. Without turning she said in a hard voice, “Master Carvajal, I rely upon your honor not to betray my secret to the ignorant people aboard our ship. Although life is indifferent to me, although it might be better for me and my fellows if I died, yet I long to reach the Holy Land now that I have undertaken the pilgrimage. I want no superstitious seaman to throw me overboard.”

I caught her wrists, and turning her to me I said, “Giulia, don’t think that my love for you has died; that is not true. Indeed I feel now that fate intended us for each other, for I too am different from other people, though I bear no outward sign of it.”

But Giulia said in derision, “You’re kind and courteous, Michael, but I don’t need your false words; your eyes have clearly spoken your horror. Let it be as if we had never met, for that is the best and kindest thing you can do.”

Her bitter words sent a wave of warmth through my heart and I was ashamed. To prove to myself and to her that nothing had changed between us I put my arms about her and kissed her. But she was right, for I no longer felt the same trembling delight. And yet perhaps my embrace held a deeper meaning than before, for now I held a defenseless creature like myself, whom I would comfort if I could in her most dreadful loneliness. Perhaps she understood, for her coldness melted, and pressing her face against my shoulder she broke into silent weeping.

To accustom myself to her strange beauty I begged her, when she had composed herself, to remove her veil and without fear walk with me down the mountainside. The longer I beheld her face and her remarkable eyes the more deeply was I aware of the profound attraction that bound me to her, despite my repugnance; it was as if two people walked beside me, and that in touching one of them I touched both. And so, unknown to me, her evil eyes cast their slow spell upon my soul.

Down by the pools we found Andy and Johanna sleeping heavily, and there was nothing left in the basket but a gnawed bone and the vine leaf that had covered the food. The sun was already sinking; we returned in haste to the port and signaled to the ship to send a boat for us.

At dusk the war galley returned from her vain pursuit, but two days and nights passed before the wind blew freshly from the northwest and we were able to row out of the harbor and hoist sail. I had spent these two days in wholesome reflection, and my proud and chilly demeanor gave place to kindliness. I shared out medicine and bread among my poor fellow passengers and did my best to help them as they lay weeping and praying on the evil-smelling straw. At night I lay awake brooding over Giulia and my own life. For since I had seen her eyes all joy had left me, and I sought oblivion in thinking of others rather than of myself.

But repentance came too late, for the day after our departure from Cerigo the wind freshened, the seas rose, and by evening the sky was filled with flying storm clouds. The ship groaned in all her timbers and began to leak worse than ever, so that all able men were set to the pumps. What with the plunging and creaking of the vessel, the crack of the sails, and the lamentations of the seasick, I confess I trembled in every limb, expecting every moment that we should founder. Yet, rotten and worm eaten though she was, our ship was a sturdy product of the Venetian dockyards, and by daybreak we had suffered no damage. When the sun came out and gilded the foaming crests of the waves we felt we had good reason to give thanks to God and join together in a song of praise.

But to the captain’s way of thinking our rejoicing was premature, and when we had ended our thanksgiving he roared at us to take to the oars, for in driving before the wind we had lost touch with the convoy. Neither sail nor land was now in sight, but by hard rowing the captain strove to alter course and so bring us up with the other vessels.

At midday the wind had dropped, although the ship still rolled in heavy seas. A sail was now descried on the horizon, and to avoid an encounter the captain again altered course and we tugged at the oars with the strength of terror. But it was too late, for by the time we could see the low sail, our lofty masts had long been visible to the stranger, who with terrifying speed approached to intercept our flight. On seeing this the captain ranted and swore and consigned all the rapacious ship owners of Venice to the nethermost pit.

“That craft bodes us no good,” he said. “If you be brave men, grasp your weapons now and fight beside me. Women and the sick must get below.”

My inward parts contracted with fear when I heard his words and watched the narrow enemy ship cleaving the foaming seas toward us, impelled by many pairs of oars. It was not long before two puffs of smoke burst from her bows; one cannon ball had plowed a hissing furrow through the waves and the other had ripped our sail before the wind had even brought us the sound of the shots.

Andy said, “This battle’s lost already, as we have no more than fifteen able-bodied men among us. According to all the rules of war—on land, that is; I know nothing of the sea—we should lay down our arms and negotiate for honorable terms of peace.”

But the pock-marked captain said, “Let us trust in God and hope that the war galley is not far off, and already searching for us. If I surrender this ship without a blow struck I shall incur black dishonor, and the Signoria of the Republic will move heaven and earth to seize me and string me up at the yardarm. But if I fight bravely and survive, the Signoria will buy me out of slavery. And if 1 should fall in battle against the infidel, I have good reason to hope that my soul, freed from sin, will fly straight to heaven.”

Brother Jehan, hoarse with terror, brandished a copper crucifix and yelled, “He who falls in battle against the followers of the false prophet is worthy of the Kingdom of Heaven! He who while on pilgrimage dies at the hands of infidels wins the glorious crown of the martyrs! And truly that crown has never been nearer to us than now. Let us therefore do battle like brave men, and may the name of Jesus be our war cry!”

Andy scratched his ear dubiously, and thrust his fist into the mouth of our only cannon, which was green with age and neglect. There was nothing in it but bits of old birds’ nests. From his cabin the captain threw out an armful of rusty swords, which clattered to the deck, while the crew sullenly picked up their iron pikes. The captain also brought out a big harquebus and I tried to load it, being used to handling such weapons, but the powder was damp. The strange vessel was by now so near that I could distinguish the green and red flags floating from the mast, and we saw also the dread turbans of the crew and the dazzle of many keen scimitars.

At this moment several sharp shots rang out. Two men fell bleeding to the deck and a third seized his wrist with a howl. Then a shower of arrows sang toward us, and many men were hit. When Brother Jehan saw the blood and heard the heart-rending cries of the wounded he was thrown into an ecstasy of sheer terror; he leaped about the deck, tucked the skirts of his habit into the rope girdle, exposing his hairy legs, and shrieked in tones of triumph, “See the blood of the martyrs! This day we shall meet in Paradise, and before God’s throne there is no more precious jewel than the martyrs’ crown.”

Other pilgrims too began madly jumping about the deck and brandishing their weapons, while the invalids gave tongue in a quivering psalm. But Andy drew me into the shelter of the deck house where the captain joined us, shedding tears and crossing himself repeatedly as he said, “May the Virgin and all the saints pity me and may Jesus Christ forgive my sins. I know that ship; she’s from the island of Jerba and is commanded by a pirate named Torgut, who shows no mercy to Christians. Let us sell our lives as dearly as we may, since we’re bound to lose them.”

But any attempt at defense against this seasoned pirate could only result in useless bloodshed, for at a given signal the rowers drew in their oars, leaving their vessel with way enough on her to glide alongside. Numbers of grapnels caught our rail, the two hulls ground together, and we were fast bound to our assailant by countless lines and chains. Our captain, like the honorable man he was, dashed sword in hand to the encounter of the pirates who were now swarming in over the side. But there were few who followed him, and he fell with a cloven skull before he had inflicted a single wound. Seeing his unhappy end his men flung down their pikes and showed their empty hands in token of surrender; in another moment those pilgrims who still showed fight were cut down, and so we won small honor in this unequal struggle.

Andy said, “Our last moment has come. The rules of war require resistance only while the least chance of success remains. Let us not kick against the pricks, but rather die, if need be, like meek Christians.”

To the last Brother Jehan assailed the infidels with his copper crucifix, but they never gave themselves the trouble of striking him. One of them simply snatched the crucifix and threw it into the sea, which so enraged the monk that he hurled himself at the man and attacked him with nails and teeth until a kick in the belly sent him rolling and howling on the deck. Andy and I allowed ourselves to be thrust in among the other prisoners, while the pirates poured all over the ship. Their easy victory had put them in a good humor, and at first they showed us no great hostility. But when they discovered that we carried no valuable cargo, they shook their fists at us and uttered threats in every language under the sun. To my amazement I noticed that they were neither Africans nor Turks, and that despite their turbans the greater number were Italians and Spaniards.

These cruel men belabored us with their fists, spat upon us, and tore off our clothes, leaving no more than a rag to cover us. They snapped up our purses and with practiced fingers felt each garment for any jewels or coins that might have been stitched into its lining. But at that moment I cared nothing for my lost possessions, and feared only for my life. Such valuables as they found they threw onto a piece of cloth spread upon the deck.

When they had made an end of this vile work, there appeared among them a dark-skinned man whose large turban was adorned with a bunch of feathers. His silk coat was heavy with silver brocade, and in his hand he carried a curved blade whose hilt was set with dark jewels. Seeing him, our robbed and denuded seamen began eagerly striking their chests and displaying their muscles, but he never so much as glanced at them. His subordinates showed him the negligible spoils, and at a nod from him began to run along our ranks, pinching our muscles and inspecting our teeth, and rapidly weeding out the weak and infirm among us. At this I was even more dismayed, and asked what it could mean, since we had already surrendered. The sailors answered, “Pray that we may find favor in their eyes. They pick out those who are fit to pull an oar, and the rest they kill.”

I was seized by such overmastering fear that my tongue swelled in my mouth and I could not even stammer. But just then these cruel men dragged Giulia forward, laughing and shouting because she had my dog Rael in her arms. The dog snarled, showed his teeth, and snapped at them valiantly when they teased him, and they were surprised that so small a dog could display such fury.

The sight and smell of carnage did nothing to soothe Rael, who was a seasoned warrior. He grew anxious on my account and having caught my scent, struggled so violently in Giulia’s arms that she was forced to release him. He ran straight up to me, jumped about me and licked my hands to show his delight at finding me still alive.

The infidel captain made a gesture of impatience and at once the chattering and laughter ceased; the wailing captives also fell silent, so that sudden and utter stillness reigned. The leader had Giulia brought before him, tore away her veil and first looked upon her with approval. But when he noticed her eyes he started back with a cry, and his men too made horns with their fingers to avert evil.

Even the men of our own ship forgot their plight and pressed forward past their guards, shaking their fists and crying, “Let us throw the woman overboard, for her eyes have led the ship to disaster.”

From this I realized that they had long guessed her secret. But their rage was the best thing that could have befallen her just then, for to show contempt for them the leader of the infidels signed to his men to take Giulia to the round-topped tent on the quarterdeck of the pirate vessel. I felt deeply relieved, although I suspected that only violence and slavery awaited her.

Once more the haughty commander raised his hand, and a gigantic coal-black slave stepped forward, naked to the waist and carrying a flashing scimitar. His master pointed to the aged and feeble, who had already fallen to their knees, and then turned his back. He surveyed the rest of us disdainfully while the black headsman approached the pilgrims and, ignoring their terrified cries, swept their heads from their shoulders.

At the sight of these heads rolling over the deck, and the blood spurting from the bodies, the last of my strength left me and I sank to my knees with my arms about my dog’s neck. Andy stood in front of me, feet apart, but when the infidels had patted him on the thigh, impressed by his powerful frame, they smiled at him and bade him step to one side. Thus I lost my only support, and since I had continually hidden behind the backs of others, I was the last to be inspected. They dragged me impatiently to my feet, and pinched me with looks of contempt. I was still emaciated from the plague, and as a scholar I could naturally not compete in bodily strength with seasoned mariners. The commander lifted his hand in dismissal and my guards forced me to my knees, that the Negro might strike off my head, too.

When Andy saw what was about to happen, he stepped coolly forward, unhindered. The terrible Negro paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but then as he raised the weapon to behead me he was seized round the body by Andy and flung sword and all into the sea.

So astounding was this spectacle that for a time even the pirates stood gaping. Then their proud leader burst out laughing, and his followers too slapped their knees and howled with delight. No one lifted a finger against Andy. But Andy was not laughing; his face seemed carved from wood as he surveyed me with his round gray eyes and said, “I don’t care to be spared, Michael. Let us die together like good Christians. For together we have been through many hard trials. Perhaps, because of our good intentions, God will forgive us our sins. We will hope for the best, for it’s all we can do.”

Tears rose to my eyes at the greatness and courage of his action, but I said, “Andy, Andy, you’re a good brother to me, but you have no sense. And now I see that you’re even simpler than I thought. Stop behaving like a fool, and be happy. In heaven I shall pray that your enslavement among the infidels may not be too grievous.”

Nevertheless as I spoke I trembled, and my heart was not in my words. Heaven seemed farther from me than ever in my life before, and I would have exchanged my place in it for a moldy crust, so long as I might be allowed to eat it. I wept still more bitterly, and cried aloud, like the holy father of the church, “Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.” It should be accounted to me for merit that I spoke in Latin, and thus did nothing to weaken Andy’s simple faith. This was the most anguished prayer that ever rose from my heart, but God in His heaven gave no ear to it. Instead, the frightful Negro clambered over the side, dripping wet, with the scimitar between his teeth. Once firmly on the deck he bellowed like an angry bull, and with rolling eyes charged straight at Andy and would have slain him, had not the pirate captain given a sharp order. His men hastened obediently to Andy’s defense and the Negro was forced to halt, quivering with impotent rage. To give vent to this he raised his sword to cut off
my defenseless head. But at this most decisive moment of my life there came to me the words which the crooked-nosed man had taught me, and I croaked,
“Bismittah—irrahman—irrahim.”

The cry sounded so convincing that the headsman was astonished, and lowered his blade. I saw nothing funny in this, but the wicked freebooters burst out laughing again while their captain came forward to me smiling, and addressed me in Arabic. I could only shake my head, but my dog was more intelligent, and hurried respectfully forward, wagged his tail, rose and stood unfalteringly on his hind legs, and looked from the captain to me and back again repeatedly. The haughty man bent down, lifted the dog into his arms and began to scratch him in friendly fashion behind the ears.

His men still tittered, but gravely their captain silenced them with the words,
“Allah a\bar.”
Then turning to me he asked in passable Italian, “Are you a Moslem, that you call upon the name of Allah, the Compassionate?”

I asked, “What is a Moslem?”

He answered, “A Moslem is one who submits to the will of God.”

I said, “And should not I submit to the will of God?”

He regarded me mildly. “If you will take the turban and be converted to the true faith Allah is indeed compassionate and I will not have you slain, though as a prisoner of war you will become my slave according to the Law of the Prophet, blessed be his name.”

At this I could only repeat, “Blessed be his name,” so deep was the relief I felt when I knew I might still draw breath under the open sky, and eat my bread. But Brother Jehan gripped me by the back of the neck, and overwhelming me with frightful curses he struck me and cried, “Viper! Worse than viper if you forsake the Christian faith to save your miserable life. Renegade! Devil’s spawn! You will suffer hell fire for this. Your other sins are atoned for by the blood of Christ, but this is a sin against the Holy Ghost, without pardon, and neither in heaven nor earth shall you find grace.”

This, and more that was much worse, did that malevolent monk pour out over me, until Captain Torgut—for it was indeed Torgut- reis—had had enough. He nodded. The Negro raised his sword exultantly and at one stroke swept off Brother Jehan’s head so that it rolled upon the deck, its mouth yet wide with curses. I could not see in this a very pious death, though no doubt by virtue of his faith he won the glorious martyrs’ crown. Be this as it may, I felt profound relief at the sudden cessation of his shrieks, for his atrocious imprecations had set me quaking from head to foot.

When once the merciless Negro had resumed his task, he worked off his fury on the humble pilgrims so rapidly that one head had hardly thudded on the deck before the next was flying to join- it. But Captain Torgut took no interest in this melancholy business, and turned his back, still holding my dog in his arms. I followed closely at his heels, but Andy, with a shake of his head, asked, “Have you truly resolved to follow the Prophet, Michael? Have you had time to give the matter serious thought?”

But I would not allow Andy to be my preceptor, and I had had enough unpleasantness from Brother Jehan. So I replied coldly, “In my Father’s house are many mansions. Even the holy aposde Peter denied his Lord three times before the cock crew. Don’t set yourself up for a better man than he was, but humbly accept our common destiny and take the turban.”

But Andy crossed himself devoutly and said, “Far be it from me to deny my good Christian faith and swear allegiance to the false prophet. Or at least not like you, with my eyes shut. Let me first see what we’re letting ourselves in for.”

His obstinacy annoyed me, but I had no time to argue further, for Captain Torgut turned to me while his men were carrying off the plunder, and once more addressed me in Italian.

“To guide even one unbeliever into the right path would be an act pleasing to God and meritorious to myself. I will therefore answer patiently any questions you may put to me, for I am the Imam aboard my own vessel.”

I bowed deeply, putting my hand to my forehead as I had seen his men do, and said, “Before you I stand naked as the day I was born. My own country has long been lost to me, and now that I have lost also my possessions and my Christian faith there is nothing I can call my own. Treat me therefore as a newborn child in matters of religion, and I will do my best to grasp and receive the new faith.”

He said, “You speak wisely and sincerely, and may the almighty God account it to you for merit. But you should clearly understand that the Law of the Prophet permits no one to be converted by force or cunning. Do you therefore freely renounce all idolatry and confess that Allah is the one God and that Mohammed is his Prophet?”

I was astounded at his words, and exclaimed, “I don’t understand you, for being a Christian I am no idolater.”

This greatly incensed him, and he said, “Woe unto you Jews and Christians who received the Scriptures but continued in your unbelief, corrupting the teachings of Abraham and Jesus, and so departing from the one God! We Moslems acknowledge Abraham, and Jesus who was a holy man, and Mary his mother. But we do not worship them as gods, because the omnipotent, omniscient, and eternal God is one and indivisible. Christians therefore sin grievously when they worship images in their churches, for of God no likeness can be made. Further, it is an abominable error—nay, blasphemy—to say that God has a son. Christians see their deity in a threefold form, as a drunken man sees double. But this is not to be wondered at, for Christian priests drink wine at the sacrifice, whereas the Prophet’s law forbids the use of wine.”

When Andy heard this he started, stared wide-eyed at Captain Torgut, and said, “Perhaps this is a sign, for my worst misdeeds and sins have ever been the result of immoderate wine drinking. I can doubt no longer that God in His inscrutable wisdom has marked me out for slavery among the followers of the Prophet, so that I need never again fall a victim to my besetting sin. I won’t quibble over the Trinity, for the matter has always been beyond my feeble understanding, but if Moslems acknowledge the merciful and gracious God, and if your Prophet can really induce you to drink only water, then indeed your faith is worth considering.”

Captain Torgut was overjoyed and cried, “Will you too freely take the turban and submit to the will of God?”

Andy crossed himself and answered, “Kill or cure! If it is a great sin, may God forgive me because of my dull wits. Why shouldn’t I accept the same fate as my brother Michael, who is more learned than I ?”

Captain Torgut said, “Allah is gracious and merciful if we walk in his ways. He will open for you the gates of Paradise with its rippling water brooks. He will give you rare fruits to eat, and virgins await you there. But only God is patient, and I have other things to do than convert my slaves. Repeat quickly what I say and so profess yourselves Moslems.”

We repeated after him as well as we could the Arabic words, “Allah is Allah and Mohammed is his Prophet,” after which he recited the first sura of the Koran and explained that no agreement between Moslems was binding without it.

While we were wrestling with the difficult Arabic words, the Negro gathered up the lopped-off heads and put them into a leather sack with some handfuls of coarse salt. Then Captain Torgut said to us, “Wind the turban about your heads, and from now on you are under Allah’s protection, though you will not be true Moslems until you have learned Arabic and are familiar with the teachings of the Koran. Circumcision is also a custom pleasing to God, which every true Moslem willingly complies with.”

Andy said hastily, “Not a word has been said about this until now, and the step I’ve taken fills me with misgivings.”

But I silenced him for fear of vexing the haughty captain, and whispered, “A wise man chooses the lesser of two evils. However unpleasant circumcision may be, it is at least preferable to beheading. Remember that all holy men in the Bible were circumcised, from the patriarch Abraham to the apostle Paul.”

Andy admitted that he had never thought of this.

“But,” he went on, “my manhood revolts against it, and I doubt whether afterward I could look a decent woman in the face.”

By now the ship was sinking beneath our feet, and so we went aboard the narrow Moslem craft which, being built only for speed and combat, was very far from roomy. Four of our sailors whose lives had been spared were at once chained to the rowers’ benches, but Tor- gut-reis allowed us to remain near him while he sat himself down with crossed legs on a cushion before his tent. His good will emboldened me to ask what was to become of us.

“How do I know?” he replied placidly. “Man’s fate is in the hands of Allah, and the days of birth and of death are predestined. You’re too frail for rowing and too old to be made a eunuch, and so no doubt you’ll be sold to the highest bidder in the Jerba market. Your brother, though, is a brawny fellow, and I would willingly have him in my crew.”

Andy said gravely, “Noble captain, don’t separate me from my brother, for he is weak and defenseless and without my protection would soon be devoured by wolves. Sell us like two sparrows, for the same farthing. Also I’m in no hurry to fight my Christian brothers, having seen how cruelly they’re treated.”

Captain Torgut’s face darkened.

“Don’t dare to speak of cruelty, for Christians treat Moslems far more savagely. From sheer bloodlust they slay them all, irrespective of age and sex, while I kill only from necessity and carefully spare all who can be useful as slaves.”

To lead the conversation into smoother channels I asked, “Exalted captain, do I rightly understand you to serve the great Sultan? How is it then that you attack Venetian vessels, although a state of peace and friendship is said to prevail between Venice and the High Porte?”

Captain Torgut answered, “You have much to learn. The Ottoman Sultan rules over more lands and peoples than I can count. And yet more numerous are the countries, cities, and islands that pay him tax and enjoy his protection. As Caliph, the Sultan is the radiant sun to all Moslems, with the exception of the redheaded Persian heretics, God’s curse be upon them. The Sultan is for true Moslems what the Pope is for Christians, and as the Pope rules in Rome, so does Suleiman rule in the city of Istanbul, which Christians call Constantinople. Thus the Sultan is lord of both halves of the world and is Allah’s shadow on earth. But to what extent I serve him and obey his commands I hardly know. I obey only Sinan the Jew, Governor of Jerba, and he has his orders from the great Khaireddin, whom Christian seafarers have confused with his dead brother Baba Aroush and whom in their terror they have named Barbarossa. In Sultan Selim’s day, Baba Aroush captured Algiers, and the Sultan sent two war galleys full of janissaries to his relief.”

“Then you are the Sultan’s subject?” I persisted, for all these names were so much Hebrew to me.

“Don’t pester me with difficult questions. My master Sinan the Jew pays tribute to the Sultan of Tunis; nevertheless Sultan Suleiman’s name is mentioned every Friday in the prayers of all the mosques in

Khaireddin’s domain. But after his brother’s death Khaireddin lost Algiers and the Spaniards have built a stout fortress on the island, blocking the entrance to the harbor. Well, the High Porte is far away, and at sea we wage war on all Christians without distinction.”

He rose impatiently and gazed out across the sea. The galley slaves pulled till the timbers creaked and the water foamed at the bows, for we were still in pursuit of our convoy. But the sun was setting, and still no sail was to be seen. Torgut cursed savagely, and cried, “Where are my other ships? My sword thirsts for Christian blood!”

He glared at Andy and me so ferociously that I felt it wisest to hide at once among all the bales and boxes that cluttered the hold, and Andy kept me company. But as the crimson sun sank below the horizon Captain Torgut became more composed and sent a devout man aloft to call the faithful to prayer. In a harsh voice this man shouted the name of Allah to all four quarters. Silence fell upon the ship, the sail was furled and the oars drawn inboard. Captain Torgut washed his feet, hands, and face in sea water, and his example was followed by the Italian renegades and most of the rowers. Then Torgut caused a mat to be spread before his tent and having laid his spear on the deck in the direction of Mecca he began as Imam to recite the prayers aloud. He grasped his right wrist with the left hand, fell upon his knees, and pressed his forehead down on the mat; this he did several times and his men did the same so far as the cramped space permitted.

With the outlandish words ringing in my ears I felt wretched and defenseless and forsaken; I pressed my forehead on the deck and dared not pray even in my heart as I had learned to pray in childhood. Nor could I pray to the god of Arabs, Africans, and Turks—that god whom they declared to be so merciful and gracious to the faithful.

Night fell, but after the fear and suspense that I had undergone I could not sleep; I lay listening to the light seas washing along the hull by my ear, under a starry sky. Brother Jehan’s frightful curses thundered in my head still, and in my horror I repeated them all. Not one of them had I forgotten, for terror had etched them into my heart forever.

That very morning I had been rich and in full enjoyment of life’s blessings. I believed that in Giulia I had found a friend who like myself was alone, and I longed for her, even while I strove to overcome my repugnance. The pilgrimage I had undertaken had freed me from the nightmares of memory. But now I was the poorest of the poor, a slave owning nothing but the rag round my loins, a slave whom a purchaser could dispose of as he pleased. Also I had lost Giulia, and I dared not think what would befall her in Torgut’s tent. The pain of losing her was torment enough.

But all this was nothing compared with the betrayal of my faith and my refusal to suffer martyrdom, to which the other pilgrims had so humbly submitted. For the first time in my life, at the age of twenty-five, having escaped many mortal perils, I had been confronted with a clear-cut choice which allowed no evasion. I had made my decision and, most shameful of all, I had made it without doubt or hesitation. For once I stood face to face with myself and examined my heart. “Michael, of Abo town in faraway Finland! Who are you? Should I not abhor you, shun you, hate you with a bitter hatred—you who throughout your life have never been or done anything completely, but have always faltered and stopped halfway? You may have meant well, but you never had strength enough to work for good. And whatever your intentions you have done much that was bad; worst of all was what you did today, for which there is no forgiveness.”

I sobbed as I sought to defend myself, “I never wanted to deny my faith—truly, I did not want to, but I was forced.”

But my relentless accuser answered me, “The same fate awaited the others, but they chose death rather than betrayal. Was your plight worse than theirs ? Think, Michael, and look truth in the eye.”

My terrors were increased; drenched with sweat I stared into the darkness, and asked, “Who are you ? Which of us is the true Michael: you who accuse me, or I who breathe and live and, despite my anguish, secretly rejoice in every breath I draw—rejoice even in the sweat that pours from me and proves that I’m alive? But I confess it: my most heartfelt penitence, my deepest sorrows and my bitterest trials, disappointments, and hard-won lessons have poured like water off a duck’s back. When the storms passed I shook myself, and was as dry as before. I donned the pilgrim’s cloak in a desire to believe that all riddles would be answered beside our Saviour’s tomb, in the land where He was born, where He lived and died. I wanted to believe it, because it was pleasant. But now that I look you in the eye, you unknown Michael, I see that it was from you I fled.”

I had never made a truer confession than this. I faced myself honestly, to be stricken at what I saw, for it was a void. But my accuser was not yet satisfied.

“And what of your faith, Michael? What do you believe? What was it you denied when you denied your faith, though others were ready to die for theirs?”

This was the bitterest cup of all, but the unknown Michael saw through me and I could only mourn, “You are right. I lost nothing when I denied my faith, for in me there was not faith equal to a grain of mustard seed. If there had been I would have died for it. My pilgrim’s cloak was a brazen lie. Until today my whole life has been a He. But I would rather bite my tongue off than admit this even to myself. For what is left of me then?”

When I had said these words I felt for the first time a hint of peace in my soul. The stern judge within me said more gently, “Now at last we have reached the kernel of the matter, my poor boy. But let us go yet a step further, if we can bear to do it. Perhaps after all we can be friends. Look into yourself, Michael, and confess. In your heart, are you really as unhappy as you make out?”

When he had said this I looked again into that inner emptiness and marveled to feel a dim, uncertain yet most glorious happiness dawning in the void. It was a happiness of the soul, because I had searched myself, cleansed myself, and was preparing now to begin again from the beginning. And so I answered meekly, “You are right, unknown man within me. Now that you have crushed and ground me to powder I am no longer so very unhappy. In fact I have never known such spiritual joy before, or even thought it possible. But now, destitute as I am, renegade to my faith, with nothing to look forward to but the fetters of slavery, I am reconciled with you and therefore I am happy. But whether you are of God or of Satan I dare not guess.”

The unseen judge was wroth at this, and demanded, “Michael, Michael, what do you know of God or Satan?”

To preserve my new-found peace I confessed hurriedly, “Nothing, truly, nothing, incorruptible Michael. But who are you?”

He answered, “I am. This you know, and it is enough.”

The words bowed me to the earth and filled me with such overwhelming happiness that I thought my heart would burst. Tears of joy rose to my eyes and I said, “You are within me. This I know, and it is enough. Be it so; the one incorruptible judge of all I am and do has his dwelling in my own heart, and stands above all understanding and all knowledge. For swift as thought you answer my questions with a voice that cannot be stifled; nor will I seek to stifle it, although hitherto I have so consistently turned a deaf ear.”

Still happier was I to feel my dog softly creeping into my arms. He had gnawed through the thong with which Torgut had tethered him, and having found me he licked my ear, pressed his nose to my cheek, and curled up comfortably with a long sigh of content. I too sighed deeply and fell asleep.

We cruised all next day, combing the coastal waters until we sighted a sail similar to our own. On approaching we beheld a vessel whose hull and rigging had been badly damaged by roundshot. We could hear the cries of the wounded while yet at some distance; there was little life left among the rowers, and of the rest of the crew hardly more than half were fit for combat. The captain had been killed and his body thrown into the sea, and a terrified renegade had taken command. This man now touched his forehead, bowed low before Torgut and said, “By the favor of Allah you had three ships under your command, Torgut-reis.”

“Allah a\bar”
returned Torgut impatiently, and although he guessed what had happened and his limbs trembled with rage, he controlled himself. “So it was written. Speak!”

It appeared that when the gale had separated Torgut from his other two ships, these found each other, and together attacked a merchantman of the convoy. But the roar of her guns brought the war galley speeding to her assistance, and one of the pirate vessels, which had not had time to cast off from her, had been crushed between the two hulls.

“And you? What did you do to help?” inquired Torgut with deceptive gentleness.

“Lord,” answered the renegade frankly. “I freed the grapnels and we made off as quickly as the oars could take us. Under Allah you have only me and my presence of mind to thank for saving even one ship, for the war galley followed in pursuit and fired its frightful guns at us. Judge from our condition how hard we fought. We fled not to avoid battle but to find you and confer as to what had best be done.”

Torgut was no fool. He put a good face on it, and repeated several times, “Allah is great,” after which he embraced the frightened renegade and spoke to him kindly. And although he would clearly have preferred to kick him overboard he praised his resourcefulness in the hearing of all. Then, having bestowed upon him many beautiful presents, and distributed silver coin among the crew, he caused both vessels to set a course for the island of Jerba, off the African coast. After this he retired to his tent and for two days and nights he never showed his face, even at the hours of prayer.

During this time the crew also were dejected, no doubt dreading their return; for they had lost one of three ships and suffered severe damage to another, while the spoils they brought were not worth mentioning. Soon they must meet Sinan the Jew, the Governor of Jerba, and render an account to him of all they had done.

In his melancholy, Torgut drove Giulia from the tent, and I asked her anxiously, “How are you, Giulia, and what dreadful things have happened? Has that repulsive Torgut offended you?”

Giulia withdrew her hand from mine and answered, “No. When he had assured himself as to whether or not I was a virgin he never molested me; on the contrary he has behaved to me like any well- mannered captain and even allows me the same food as himself.”

I only half believed her, and asked yet again, “Is that true? Has he really not molested you?”

Giulia wept, and said, “I was ready to plunge a dagger into my breast—or so I fancy, but I was very much confused when I was led into his tent. He conquered my fears however, and was afterward careful not to insult me; from this I see that even infidels shun me for my eyes’ sake, although I had hoped, when once beyond the borders of Christendom, that I should no longer have to suffer for what I cannot help.”

Despite my relief that no evil had befallen her, I was shocked, and said reproachfully as I took her hand again, “Giulia, Giulia, what are you thinking of, to mourn and complain because this ruthless man spared your virtue?”

She snatched away her hand to dry her tears, and her eyes of different colors blazed with rage as she retorted, “Like all men you’re denser than you look. If he’d touched me I would have stabbed myself—I think. I weep because he never even tried, but withdrew at once and began mumbling his prayers. I can only suppose that he feared my eyes, and his revulsion wounds me deeply. It seems I am unfit even for heathens.”

I could make nothing of this, except that she was out of her mind with horror at having fallen into slavery, and I consoled her as best I could, saying that to me she was lovely and desirable and that her eyes did not repel me at all; that on the contrary I bitterly regretted my stupidity in drawing back from her at so auspicious a moment. She grew calmer and at last said hopefully, “Captain Torgut expects to get a good price for me in Jerba, and he told me that was why he spared my virtue. But it must have been mere politeness, for if he had really liked me he would have kept me for himself.”

I was enraged at her unreasonable attitude, and more maddened still to think that I must lose her and perhaps never see her again. The blue and brown brilliance of her eyes was so enchanting that I could not imagine how I had ever feared her.

“Giulia, Giulia! Only old men are rich, and some repulsive gray- beard will buy you. Why didn’t I take you while I could, so that at least we could have shared the memory ? Now there will never be anything for us to share.”

But at this she stared at me in amazement.

“You take too much for granted. If you’d tried to do any such thing I would have scratched your face.”

“Then why did you come with me to that lonely place, and why were you so angry when your eyes aroused in me the feelings rather of a brother than of a lover?”

Giulia shook her head slightly and sighed.

“If I talked till doomsday you’d never understand. Of course I hoped that you would try, and perhaps you might have succeeded, as the place was deserted and you are stronger than I. But you did not try, Michael, and that is what I can never forgive you. I hope you will come to suffer bitterly for my sake. My dearest wish is that you may see others pay sacks of gold for what you might have had for nothing. This may give you something to think about for a long time to come.”

I perceived that I understood little of feminine logic. She veiled her face once more and left me alone, a prey to exceedingly confused ideas. In her present mood I hardly recognized the modest, straightforward woman I had known.

That night I beheld such a shower of falling stars that for a moment the dark sky seemed strewn with sparks. The man at the steering oar murmured Arabic words, and when I asked him what they meant he answered, “I trust in God and not the devil stoned.” He explained that Allah used the lower stars to throw at the devil, and so it was a good omen that Allah should be doing this as we neared the isle of Jerba.

The explanation seemed to me childish, but I said nothing—only sighed and thought of the slavery awaiting me.

Next day we entered Jerba harbor. Torgut appeared on deck to lead the prayers and the whole crew donned their finest clothes. They avoided blue, I soon learned, because it was the Christian color, and also yellow, which was the color of the Jews. Both Andy and I were given a clean strip of stuff to bind in a turban round our heads. As I could do no more for my own adornment, I washed the dog, despite vigorous opposition, and combed his curly coat with my fingers.

The low, sandy isle beneath a burning sun presented no very cheering prospect. As we drew level with the beacon at the mouth of the harbor, Torgut ordered a shot to be fired from his light harquebus only, to show that this time his spoils were little to boast of. I saw the low cupola and white minaret of the mosque, a swarm of mud huts and, on a green mound, the walled residence of Sinan the Jew. But the governor did not ride down in state to meet us, as no doubt he would have ridden if we had arrived firing a salute of cannon and flying the flags of victory. Only a gang of ragamuffins had collected on the beach, and the harbor felt like a glowing oven as we entered it from the cool sea.

Despite our fine clothes and flashing weapons we looked a pitiful little group as we set off along the dusty bridle track to Sinan’s kasbah. At our head walked the Negro with the scimitar, carrying on his back the sack full of Christian heads. After him, their hands bound behind them, came the four seamen who had been found suitable for the galleys. Andy and I walked with a chain about our necks although we had accepted the one God and therefore ought not to have been bound. In happy ignorance of our slavery and the Law of the Prophet my dog followed close at heel sniffing avidly at all the new smells, which were indeed plentiful in this squalid haunt. Next came the galley slaves carrying the plunder, which had been divided up into many bundles and boxes to make it seem more than it was. Lastly followed Captain Torgut and his men, who strove to utter cries of triumph. The townspeople hurried after us too, politely screaming out their blessings in the name of Allah. Only the merchants, gathered in front of their booths, pointed contemptuously at us with their thumbs. Giulia had been arrayed in her best clothes and now rode heavily veiled upon a donkey immediately behind Torgut, attended by four men armed with scimitars.

The gates of the kasbah were opened wide, and on either side of them we saw sun-dried human heads, impaled on hooks fixed to the wall. In the middle of the great courtyard was a basin of hewn stone surrounded by grass. Prisoners and slaves who lay dozing in the shade sat up and gazed at us dully. Torgut, having sent his men in with the booty, left them to wait by the well. Andy and I were also left alone and Giulia dismounted from her donkey to join us. To show compassion in the name of Allah, Torgut’s men loosed the seamen’s bonds and let them drink from the fountain. I drank, too, for a beautifully wrought copper cup was chained to the rim, and I marveled at the excellence of the water, having yet to learn that by the commandment of the Koran there must always and in every place be fresh water available to the thirsty.

Sinan the Jew was in no hurry to see us, and Torgut’s men squatted patiently down upon the ground to wait. Andy was astonished, and remarked, “The customs of sea warfare are evidently different from those on land, for if these lads had been Germans or Spaniards they’d have had a good fire going by now and a roast and casks of ale, and the wine jar would be passing from hand to hand; there’d be swearing and brawling and dicing, with the camp drabs busy in the shade of the wall. We’ve come a long way from Christendom.”

While Andy was yet speaking, Captain Torgut’s savage Negro stepped up to him, bringing an Italian as interpreter, who said, “Mus- suf the Negro is angry because you treacherously seized him from behind and threw him into the sea. He could not be revenged at that time, since the Law of the Prophet forbids dispute among the faithful in time of battle. But now he would measure his strength with you.”

Andy could hardly believe his ears.

“Dares that poor wretch really challenge me? Tell him I’m too strong to fight with him, and let him go in peace.”

The Negro jumped up and down, rolled his eyes, and insulted Andy, beating himself on the chest and tensing his muscles. Andy, to give friendly warning of his own strength, rose from the millstone he had been sitting on, bent down to grasp it and lifted it smoothly above his head. Not content with this he put his left hand behind him and held the huge stone on his right hand alone. When Torgut’s men saw this, many of them rose and gathered about him, until he let the stone fall to the ground with a mighty thud.

The Negro in his turn bent down and with enormous effort raised the stone in his arms; but twist and struggle as he might he could not lift it above his head. His legs began to tremble; he dropped the stone and if Andy had not skipped aside his toes would have been crushed. He admonished the Negro mildly, but the man rolled his eyes worse than ever, and the Italian said, “Be on your guard, for Mussuf threatens to throw you over the wall. But if you’ll try an honest fall with him he’ll not be too rough with you.”

Andy put both hands to his head.

“One of us three is mad. But I’ve warned the fellow; now he shall get what he asks for.”

He took off the garment that he had been given to protect his back from the sun, and stepped up to the Negro. After that all I could see was a whirling tangle of arms and legs, until suddenly Andy flew into the air, to land on his back with such a crash that he lay there astounded and unable to believe his senses. The Negro burst into joyous laughter, so that his teeth gleamed white in his black face, but it was clear that he bore Andy no ill will.

Seeing him lie there motionless I hurried over to him, but he thrust me aside, sat up and asked where he was and what had happened. I fancied that he was play-acting and that he had let the Negro win, to flatter him. But Andy felt his limbs and back and said, “There must have been some mistake, and I can’t for the life of me make out how I come to be sitting on the ground while that black fellow’s on his legs, sniggering.”

He got to his feet again, flushing darkly, and hurled himself with a roar at his adversary, so that for a while nothing was to be heard but the fearsome cracking of bones and sinews. Then as if by magic Andy was lifted once more into the air, and the Negro tossed him backward over his shoulder, without even turning to see what became of him. The sight so horrified me that from force of habit I crossed myself. Andy staggered up on trembling legs and said, “Turn away your head, Michael; don’t look at me. I don’t understand what’s happening to me, unless I’ve fallen foul of Satan himself. But the third time’s lucky, and I’ll get a grip of this oily devil somehow, if I have to break his bones to do it.”

Once more he made a violent rush, the dust swirling about his feet. But the Negro handled him seemingly without effort, and at length grasping him by wrist and leg he began whirling him madly round and round. Then he let go, so that Andy thudded to the ground and rolled some distance in a cloud of dust. When I reached him I saw that his shoulders had been cut by the stones and that blood was pouring from his nose.

“Easy, Michael, easy,” he panted, with a face like thunder. “I tackled him carelessly, and he got the better of me by some trick.”

He would have charged in again, but the Italian renegade came soothingly toward him and said, “Let that be enough, now, and pray harbor no ill feelings. Mussuf has none. You needn’t be ashamed to acknowledge him the victor, for he’s a renowned
guresh, or wrestler. He has thrown you three times running. Come, then, admit yourself fairly beaten. He owns that you’re the most powerful man he’s ever met.”

Andy was unappeased. His eyes were bloodshot as he thrust the renegade aside, and he was on the point of hurling himself yet again at the Negro when Captain Torgut appeared at the entrance to the palace and ordered us sharply to make an end of our sport. Andy was compelled to choke back his rage, wipe the blood from his face, and cover his flayed back, while the Negro threw out his chest like a fighting cock and strolled over to the group of renegades to receive their praise.

I was crestfallen on Andy’s account, and strove to comfort myself with the thought that the sea voyage had not suited him and that he had been weakened by poor food. But I had little time to brood over our disgrace, for Captain Torgut ordered us abruptly to enter the palace and present ourselves before his lord, Sinan the Jew. We were led through the building into an inner courtyard bounded on all sides by a cool colonnade and made beautiful by many varied fruit trees. Beneath a roof supported by pillars sat Sinan the Jew. He had one eye, a thin nose, and a sparse beard, and wore a plume in his turban. He was not long past middle age and his lean face was that of a warrior, though for the moment he was content to sit cross legged on a cushion.

He began by surveying the four poor seamen, but found little to interest him there, and he dismissed them with a disdainful jerk of his thumb. Then fixing his eye on Andy and me he said in Italian, “So you have taken the turban, in the name of Allah the Compassionate. You have well chosen, and if you prove diligent in the faith it will be accounted to you for merit and you will be admitted to Paradise with its rippling water brooks. But,” he went on with a malicious smile, “here on earth you are slaves, and don’t imagine that the Law of the Prophet will ameliorate your lot in any way. If you try to escape, your bodies will be cut in pieces limb by limb and hung upon hooks on either side of the gate. Now tell me, you, what can you do, if anything, that would be of use to your owner?”

I answered quickly, “By your favor, Prince and Lord of Jerba, I am a physician. When I have learned Arabic and acquired knowledge of the remedies used in this country, I will gladly practice healing to the profit of my lord. And I may add without boasting that I’m familiar with many medicines and methods that will certainly be unknown here.”

At this Sinan the Jew stroked his beard, and his eye flashed as he asked, “Is it really true, then, that you won’t try to escape, but will submit yourself as a Moslem?”

I answered, “Try me, Prince. It is needless to threaten me with quartering, for having taken the turban I should suffer a still more hideous death at the hands of Christians. This is your best guarantee for my sincerity.”

He turned thoughtfully to Andy and ordered him to take off his cloak. At the sight of the fearful bruises that had begun to appear on Andy’s body he asked who had treated him so roughly. Andy answered, “No one has ill treated me, great lord. Mussuf and I had a little innocent sport together in the outer court. We matched our strength in a friendly bout of wrestling.”

“Bismillah—irrahman—irrahim,”
exclaimed Sinan piously. “An excellent idea. If he has a good instructor and is not too thick witted he can earn great sums for his master as a wrestler. Tell me, what is necessary to man?”

“Good and abundant food,” answered Andy readily. “May the gracious God send me a master who is liberal with that, and I will serve and obey him faithfully.”

Sinan the Jew sighed, scratched his head and said, “This man is certainly very simple. He doesn’t even know that prayer and profession of faith are the most important things. Tell me, what are seven and seven?”

“Twenty-five,” answered Andy, with a candid look.

Sinan the Jew tore his beard, called upon Allah, and demanded of Captain Torgut, “Are you making game of me, that you bring me such a fellow? He will eat his master out of house and home and bring disaster upon him through his stupidity. Best to trade him for a bunch of onions, if anyone is fool enough to make so bad a bargain.”

Nevertheless he was amused, and asked Andy another question.

“How far is it from earth to heaven?”

Andy brightened, and said, “I thank you, sir, for contenting yourself with easier problems. It takes no longer to travel from earth to heaven than it takes a man to crook his finger.”

“Do you dare to trifle with me, miserable clod?”

Andy regarded him with docility, and said, “How could I dare to trifle with you, Lord and Prince? You have only to crook your finger and in a flash the head is off my shoulders. Therefore I say that it takes no longer to get to heaven than to crook one’s finger. But I was thinking of myself, not of you, for you have certainly farther to go to reach heaven. Aye, infinitely farther, one might say.”

His words brought a smile to Sinan’s lips. He ceased his attack.

“And the dog?”

When Rael felt Sinan’s gaze upon him, he wagged his tail and stood gaily on his hind legs, so that Sinan was astonished.

“To Allah be the praise! Take the dog to my harem. If my wives like it I will give it to them.”

But Rael growled and showed his teeth when a wizened little eunuch came forward to take him, and only at my order would the dog follow, lured by a juicy mutton bone. But he gave me a last reproachful glance, and I could not restrain my tears.

My distress dulled the agony of seeing Giulia led forward and bidden to remove her veil. Captain Torgut, alarmed, said hastily, “Why begin with her face? Keep the best till the last, and examine first her other charms. You will see that I spoke the truth about her. She is as fair as the moon, her breasts are roses, her belly a silver cushion, and her knees seem carved from ivory.”

To explain how it was I so well understood their conversation, I should mention that these African pirates were one in religion only, and came from every country, with every country’s speech upon their lips. Sinan was by birth a Jew from Smyrna, and Captain Torgut was the son of poor Turks in Anatolia, while their men were for the most part Italians, Sardinians, and men of Provence, Moorish fugitives from Spain, and renegades from Portugal. They conversed together in a queer jargon made up of every sort of language, and known as lingua franca. (They called Christians Franks.) I had learned to understand this mongrel tongue while aboard ship, and as I have always had great facility for languages it gave me no trouble.

Sinan the Jew looked suspiciously at Captain Torgut and said, “Why save her face to the last if she is truly as fair as the moon? I see by your look that there’s something fishy here, and I must get to the bottom of it.”

He stroked his beard with his slender fingers and ordered Giulia to undress. After modest hesitation she obeyed and uncovered all but her face. Sinan told her to turn, and surveyed her both from the front and from the back. At length he said reluctantly, “She’s too thin. She might set a boy on fire, but a mature man needs a broader, deeper cushion than does a youth whose limbs are still firm and wiry, and who can therefore be at ease even on a narrow plank.”

“In the name of the Compassionate!” cried Captain Torgut, his face dark with wrath. “Do you call this girl a narrow plank ? If so it is from avarice, to lower her value and beat down the price. But you have not seen everything.”

“Pray don’t excite yourself, Torgut. I freely admit that the girl will not lack merit when regularly and lavishly fed with good kukurrush, so that her breasts swell up to look like ripe gourds. But it will be for the buyer to see to her diet. She doesn’t interest me.”

At this Giulia lost all patience; she tore the veil from her face and stamped upon it, crimson with fury, as she cried, “Sinan the Jew, you’re a spiteful man and I won’t endure your insolence. Look me in the eyes if you dare, and see something you have never seen before!”

Sinan the Jew bent forward and stared, so that his one eye almost started from its socket. His jaw dropped, revealing his rotten teeth, and he gazed unwinkingly into Giulia’s eyes until at last he hid his face in his hands and cried hoarsely, “Is she a specter, a witch, a jinni? Or am I dreaming? For her eyes are of different colors: the one blue and sinister, the other brown and false.”

Torgut seemed put out at his words but defended himself stubbornly, saying, “Your eyes do not deceive you. Did I not say that I had brought you a treasure whose like had never before been seen? One eye is a sapphire and the other a topaz, and her teeth are faultless pearls.”

“Did you say a treasure?” exclaimed Sinan incredulously. “What wonder that you lost one of your good ships, for this girl if anyone has the evil eye, and I tremble at the very thought of the misfortune you may have brought upon my house. Allah! The costly rosewater I must sacrifice to purify the floor and the doorposts! And you call her a treasure!”

When Torgut saw his last hope vanishing, his lips trembled and his eyes moistened as he said resolutely, “So be it. I will put out one of her eyes, and no one can then be offended, though I doubt whether I shall get a good price for a one-eyed woman.”

My anxiety for Giulia was keener than ever, but at that instant I had what seemed to me an inspiration. I stepped forward boldly and having obtained permission to speak, I said,
“Bismillah—irrahman—irrahim.
I have often heard it said that nothing happens contrary to the will of Allah, and that all is predestined. Why then do you so stubbornly oppose his will? for he clearly intended that Captain Torgut should bring all three of us before you. Therefore instead of putting out her eye, you should seek the hidden meaning in her coming.”

These words made a deep impression on Sinan. He stroked his thin beard slowly and reflectively, but found it unbefitting his dignity to reply. After a while he ordered the holy book to be brought. It was a large volume, ornamented with gold and silver, and it lay open on an ebony stand so that he could turn the pages without altering his position. Having bent his head and murmured a few verses, he said, “I will follow the guidance of the holy book.” He drew out of it a long gold pin which he handed to Giulia. “Unbeliever though you are, take this golden pin and thrust it between the pages, and I will read the lines to which it points. May those lines be my guide, and determine the fate of you and your companions. I take you all to witness that I will submit to the judgment of Allah, the Almighty.”

Giulia held the pin as if she would rather have driven it into Sinan’s body, but she obeyed and thrust it defiantly and at random between the leaves of the Koran. Sinan opened the volume reverently, read the passage indicated by the needle’s point, and exclaimed in wonder, “Allah indeed is great, and marvelous are his ways. This is the sixth sura, called Alanam—cattle—which is plain enough, for what are you three slaves but cattle? The needle stopped at the seventy-first verse, which reads:

“ ‘Say, shall we call upon that, besides God, which can neither profit nor hurt us? and shall we turn back on our heels, after that God hath directed us; like him whom the devils have infatuated, wandering amazedly in the earth, and yet having companions who call him to the true direction, saying “Come unto us”? Say, the direction of God is the true direction: we are commanded to resign ourselves unto the Lord of all creatures.’

“He looked up amazed, and surveyed Giulia, Andy, and myself in turn. Torgut too was impressed and said, “Truly Allah is Allah and I made no error in bringing this girl to your house.”

I cannot say whether Sinan the Jew was really pleased with the Koran’s decree, but he said, “I take back all I said in my foolishness. Who am I to doubt the judgment of Allah? Yet I cannot tell what to do with these slaves. I’ll take them, Torgut, but only at a fair price. In the presence of witnesses I will give you thirty-six ducats which, with the horse you’ve already had from me, is a good sum for these useless, ignorant creatures.”

But Torgut was incensed, and cried, “Cursed be you, Sinan the Jew, for seeking to swindle me! The girl is almost a virgin, the gray-eyed Frank is a powerful fellow, and the third has the same name as the angel who rules the night and the day. Furthermore he is a skilled physician and a learned man, speaking all the Frankish languages, and Latin, too. Ten times that sum would leave me the poorer, and I should never even consider so bad a bargain were you not my father and my friend.”

Sinan the Jew became annoyed in his turn, and said, “The sun has dried your brains. A moment ago you were ready to kill the girl, or at least to put out one of her eyes; now you exaggerate her nonexistent charms in order to rob me. If you reject a fair offer, sell these slaves in the open market, and I’m ready to make the highest bid, so long as you swear by the Koran not to bribe anyone to force up the price.”

Torgut scowled.

“As if anyone in the bazaar would dare to outbid you! And you would certainly spread slander about these wretched slaves and so lower their price. The Koran has revealed their true value to you, and I submit to its ruling, though I lose by it. Was it not the seventy-first verse of the sixth sura? Together that amounts to seventy-seven gold ducats—an auspicious number which in itself emphasizes Allah’s intention. Or would you prefer us to add the numerical values of the letters?”

By this time Sinan was tearing his beard, and now he cried out, “No, no—perish the thought! It would be waste of time, as not even scholars are agreed on those values. In any case there was no mention of gold in the sura.”

“It is unbecoming in you to struggle against the will of Allah. Were I a more learned man I could point out plenty of characters signifying gold; but it is enough for me that the Koran is more precious than gold and that each letter contains ten benedictions. Therefore let us dispute no longer. I will be content with seventy-seven gold ducats.”

The end of it was that Sinan the Jew counted out the ducats, sent Giulia to the harem, and ordered Andy and me out of his sight. We returned to the outer court, where huge dishes of mutton and rice cooked in fat had been brought out for Torgut’s men. These had squatted down in order of rank round the dishes, and were picking morsels of meat from them, and pressing the rice into neat balls which they put in their mouths. But the slaves and prisoners had gathered behind them, and with famished looks followed every mouthful as it disappeared. The sight depressed me very much, but as we drew near Mussuf at once made room for us beside him, and offered Andy a fine piece of meat, dripping with fat. I urged Andy to accept this as a peace offering.

The food in the dish now began to dwindle rapidly, and I had difficulty in keeping up. The others, seeing Andy’s prowess, looked askance at us and called on Allah, and when the dish was empty one of the renegades remarked, “He’s no true Moslem. See what manners—to sit on his bottom and stuff his mouth with both hands!”

Andy was offended by these words, but I said to the speaker, “We have but now found the right road, and stumble along it like blind men, having no one to lead us. Explain to us the points of good behavior.”

Sinan the Jew must after all have been well disposed toward us; I cannot otherwise account for the fact that the wrinkled eunuch appeared in the courtyard in response to Andy’s roars for more to eat, and ordered the servants to refill our dishes. I bade Andy hold his tongue while the Moslems taught us proper table manners and good behavior. Delightedly and all talking at once they began their instruction. We must always wash our hands before eating, they said, and bless the food in the name of Allah. We must sit cross legged before the dish, on the left haunch, using only three fingers of the right hand to take food. No knife was to be used, as all was cut beforehand into pieces of suitable size, and no more was to be put in the mouth than it would comfortably hold. The rice was to be kneaded together in small lumps, and not shoveled into the mouth like porridge. A well- bred man did not stare at his companions but looked straight before him and was content with what he had. Finally they recited a phrase or two from the Koran and said, “Ye who believe, eat the good things which God hath given you, and offer your thanks to Him.”

When the food was nearly all gone, they pointed out that no believer quite finished what was on the dish, but charitably left some to be distributed among the poor. Now also they left many good pieces of meat and some rice, and handed it to the slaves and prisoners, who fought savagely over it, for although they were Christians they displayed little of the Christian spirit.

The Moslems’ explanation gave me much to think about. They went on to tell me of the fast of Ramadan and of the pilgrimage to Mecca that every believer ought to make at least once in his life. But if prevented by poverty or some other cause his omission was not accounted to him for sin. I asked them their views on wine drinking, at which they all sighed deeply and answered, “It is written: ‘Ye who believe: wine, games of chance, worshiping of stones, and dicing are abominations of the devil. Shun them, that ye may be blessed.’“

But others among them said, “It is also written: ‘Wine drinking is a great sin, albeit man may have some good of it. But the sin is greater than the good.’“

The eunuch, who had stood behind us listening, could contain himself no longer. “There’s much to be said for wine, and many poets—especially the Persians—have celebrated its best qualities. Persian is the language of poets, as Arabic is the Prophet’s, whereas Turkish is spoken only by the dogs of the big cities. And in praising wine the poets have used it as a symbol of the true faith. Yet even apart from its symbolic aspect, wine is beneficial to health. It stimulates the kidneys, strengthens the bowels, eases care, and renders a man magnanimous and noble. Truly, had not Allah in his inscrutable wisdom forbidden the faithful to drink it, it would have no equal on earth.”

Hearing this song of praise Andy regarded the eunuch with displeasure, and said, “Gelding! Are you trying to annoy me? I have taken the turban with the sole purpose of avoiding the curse of wine. Wine runs away with good sense and good money, infects a man with diseases, and causes him to see creatures that are not there. Allah preserve me from allowing the filth to pass my lips.”

But the eunuch squatted down beside me and said, “Your questions are sincere, and you show willingness to learn first what is forbidden. But Allah is not minded to enslave his faithful or make life hard for them. Repeat the prescribed prayers, and give what alms you can afford; for the rest put your trust in Allah the ever compassionate. You may spend your life studying the Koran and the interpretations of scholars, and be no wiser at the end of it.”

I listened to what he said, understanding that there was something he wished to tell me. But Andy broke in, “If this is true, I confess that the teaching of the Prophet, blessed be his name, is as it were a flowing cloak that nowhere chafes the wearer. Yet I cannot believe what you say, for all the priests, monks, and teachers I’ve met or heard of have always been the first to forbid pleasant things, such as the lusts of eye and flesh; they insist that the way to heaven is narrow and stony, while all broad, smooth roads lead straight to hell.”

Mardshan the eunuch smiled all over his wrinkled face and said, “Though much is pleasing to God—more than I can remember—yet all is not necessary. There is a tradition that the Prophet, blessed be his name, once said, ‘If, upon the last day, there comes before Allah a soul to whom can be credited not a single good action, and he is judged worthy of the fires of hell, this soul may appeal and say, Lord, you have called yourself merciful and compassionate; how then can you punish me with hell fire?
Then shall Allah in all his glory say, Truly I have called myself merciful and compassionate; lead therefore this servant of mine to Paradise, for my mercy’s sake; for I am the most merciful of all who show mercy’. “Andy was greatly astonished at this, and said, “Allah’s teaching is plainly a good and merciful teaching, and if I had not seen salted heads stuffed into a sack in his name I should even be misled into believing it to be the best of all religions. But a doctrine which commands a man to slay innocent people because of their beliefs is anything but merciful; for who can be converted by having his head struck off?”

But I wondered why this Mardshan was so eager to make his faith acceptable to us, and I said to him, “That was a pious and beautiful story. But what is in your mind? What is it you want of us?”

He raised his hand as if in wonder and exclaimed, “I ? I am only a poor eunuch. But the task has been laid upon me to teach you Arabic, if you’re quick at learning. Your brother shall be trained as a guresh if the Negro Mussuf consents to teach him, for at the moment my master has no other employment for him.”

Sinan the Jew and Captain Torgut now appeared at the doors of the palace, and the noise in the courtyard died away. Sinan spoke with the pirates and caused garments of honor and also small sums of money to be distributed among them. Thus the day ended. Mardshan the eunuch led us to remoter parts of the building, and showed us very pleasant quarters in the barracks where Sinan’s slaves and bodyguard were housed.

Mardshan taught me Arabic, and showed me how to read and write its strange characters. The Koran was my lesson book. As Mussuf had gone to sea again with Captain Torgut, Sinan the Jew found another wrestling instructor for Andy. My dog was given back to me, and I hardly know which of us was happiest. So I found nothing to complain of in my bondage. And yet as the days passed the oppressive sensation grew within me that I was being watched and that my smallest action was recorded, so that I began to speculate upon the fate in store for me. Sinan the Jew was not one to show favor to anyone without good reason.

One day when I was scrubbing the bathroom floor Giulia approached me, unseen by anyone, and said, “The slave does slave’s work!”

I was so glad to see her that I ignored her words and exclaimed, “Giulia! Are you well, and well treated? Can I do anything for you?”

She said, “Scrub your floor and keep your eyes lowered in my presence, for I’m a lady of distinction, and have no need to work or do more than eat rose leaves in honey, and good kukurrush, so that I am as you see noticeably plumper than before.”

I was seized by terrible jealousy, and asked, “Has Sinan the Jew found delight in you, then? And doesn’t time thus idly spent hang heavy on your hands? Idleness is the mother of vice, and I would not see you sink into vice, Giulia.”

Giulia drew aside her veil a little absently, stroked my cheek, and said, “I’ve every reason to think that my lord has found delight in me, for he often summons me to gaze into a copper dish filled with sand, in which I draw lines with my finger.”

“Allah!” I cried, even more surprised at Sinan’s behavior. “Why does he want you to draw lines in the sand?”

“How should I know?” returned Giulia frankly. “I believe he is in his second childhood, and likes to have an excuse to send for me and admire my beauty. For I am indeed fair as the moon and my eyes are like jewels of different colors.”

There was a roar of laughter from behind me, and Sinan the Jew, drawing aside a curtain, stepped forward unable any longer to contain his mirth. Mardshan the eunuch followed close at his heels, distractedly wringing his hands, and I thought my last hour had come, for I had presumed to speak to Giulia, and she had uncovered her face before me, which among Mussulmans is a great sin.

Panic stricken though I was, I yet sought to save Giulia and raising my scrubbing brush I said, “Lord, punish me, for she is innocent and I addressed her first. But we have uttered nothing but praise of your gendeness and wisdom.”

Sinan laughed still more and answered, “I heard how warmly you praised me. Rise up out of the dirt, Michael, and fear nothing. You’re a physician, as you assured me, and before such men a woman may unveil without sin. But come, it is time I talked to you seriously. I want to present you to your future master, to whom you owe obedience.”

He went, and my heart turned to ice. But Mardshan said, “Sinan has given you away and you must follow Abu el-Kasim, your new master. He is a drug merchant of ill repute from the town of Algiers, the curse of Allah be upon him.”

My heart was in my mouth and I was a prey to great anguish, but Mardshan ordered me to hasten, and as I had no choice I hurried after Sinan the Jew.

With lowered eyes I entered the room; Sinan spoke to me kindly, bidding me be seated on a cushion and look about me fearlessly. On obeying I was surprised to behold a small, apelike man wearing a ragged cloak. He looked a very shady character and as I submitted to his keen gaze I felt I need expect no good from him. I turned beseechingly to Sinan, who said smiling, “Behold your new master, Abu el- Kasim. He is a poor man and makes a bare living by diluting rose water, and selling imitation ambergris and inferior eye black. He has promised to send you every day to the madrasseh of the mosque in Algiers, where you may hear the best teachers and so most rapidly learn Arabic and acquire knowledge of the pillars of the faith—of law, tradition, and the true path.”

I dared not utter a word of protest, and bowed my head submissively. Abu el-Kasim stared at me and said, “I’m told you’re a physician and familiar with Christian remedies. Now, I have undergone an arduous journey and am sick at the stomach. Can you cure me?”

He leered unpleasantly and I found him so repellent that I had no wish to examine him. But my duty compelled me, and I said, “Show me your tongue. Have your bowels moved today? Let me feel your pulse. When I have also felt your stomach I will tell you what medicine you need.”

Abu el-Kasim held his belly and moaned.

“I see that you know your business according to Frankish practice. But the best remedy for these pains of mine would be a good wine. Were it prescribed by a physician I could drink it without sin.”

I wondered at first whether he were testing me. But now Sinan the Jew also rubbed his belly and with loud lamentation said, “Oh, accursed! Abu el-Kasim, you have brought an infectious sickness into my house, and I too am afflicted. Hell is loose within me, and only the good remedy you speak of can bring relief. By the boundless favor of Allah I happen to possess a sealed jar of wine, given me by a sea captain who knew no better; I could not have declined the gift without offense. We trust you, Michael. Break the seal, smell and taste the wine, and tell us whether it will be of benefit. If so we may drink it without sin.”

The sanctimonious old frauds sat and looked at me as if I had been their master instead of their slave, and I had no choice but to break the seal and pour the wine into three finely ornamented cups which Sinan readily handed me.

“Taste the medicine,” he said, “and tell us whether it is suited to our disorder.”

But it was not the quality of the wine he doubted; he wanted first to assure himself that it had not been poisoned, and then to incriminate me,_ so that I could not afterward inform against him. However, I needed no second bidding. I tasted the dark, sweet, fragrant wine with relish and said quickly, “Drink in the name of Allah, for this is a good wine and will certainly cure all ills of mind and body.”

When we had drunk, and refilled our cups and drunk again, Abu el-Kasim said to me, “I am told that you’re familiar with Christian methods of warfare, that you know the qualities of the Christian leaders, that you have yourself served in the wars, that you speak many Christian languages and have in general deeper knowledge of all these matters than one could expect in a man of your age. Even Mardshan the eunuch has often wondered at it.

I made no answer, but with burning cheeks drank more wine; for the words came strangely from such an old ragbag as he was.

He then asked, “If, besides adulterating drugs and pursuing useless studies at the mosque school, you had the chance to serve the world’s mightiest ruler, what would you say?”

I answered bitterly, “I served him long enough, and ingratitude was my only wage. I’ve had more than enough of the Emperor; he even wanted to send me across the western ocean, to conquer new kingdoms for him, under the command of a one-time swineherd.”

Abu el-Kasim said eagerly, “You speak of things new to me. But it was not the Emperor of the unbelievers that I meant—the ruler of the German and Spanish dominions—but the great Sultan Suleiman, who justly and liberally rewards his servants.”

“Blessed be his name,” added Sinan the Jew. “The Sultan has captured the Christian strongholds of Belgrade and Rhodes; he has conquered Hungary and, according to prediction, he is to subdue all the Christian peoples. As High Porte he is the refuge of all kings. He makes the rich poor and the poor rich and lays no undue burdens on any, so that within his dominions the nations live without fear and in brotherly concord.”

“These are dreams born of wine,” I said. “You speak of a realm that may perhaps exist in heaven, but never on earth.”

But Abu el-Kasim warmly concurred in what Sinan said.

“This is no drunken dream. In Sultan Suleiman’s empire justice is incorruptible; judges pronounce sentence according to the law, without respect of persons. Nor are any forced to renounce their faith, for Christians and Jews enjoy equal rights; so that for example the Greek Patriarch holds the rank of vizier and is a member of the Divan, or council. Thus it is that the oppressed and persecuted of all lands take refuge with the High Porte, and there find protection. Blessed be Sultan Suleiman, the people’s sun, the Lord of both halves of the world!”

“Hosannah!” cried Sinan the Jew with tears in his eyes, forgetful of his turban.

I concluded that they must both be very drunk, for I could not believe more than half they said. But Sinan unfolded a great map and pointed to the coasts of Spain, Italy, and Greece, and opposite to them the coast of Africa. He showed me where the island of Jerba lay, and the sultanate of Tunisia, the town of Algiers, and the island of Zerjeli, where Khaireddin was mustering his fleet.

Then he said, “The Hafsids have ruled these coasts for three hundred years—too long a time. Sultan Muhammed of the Hafsid dynasty is a lecherous old man who governs Tunis and is an ally of the Christian Emperor. His family were also lords of Algiers until the great Khaireddin and his brother drove them out and placed themselves under the protection of the Porte. But the faithless Hafsids sought help from the Emperor and both Khaireddin’s brothers fell in battle against the Spaniards and Berbers, so that once more Algiers came under Hafsid sway. In recognition of their help, the Spaniards built a strong fortress at the mouth of the harbor, which is a great stumbling block to us in our naval warfare against the Christians. In this way the bloodthirsty Hafsids have set themselves up against the Sultan and now omit his name from their intercessory prayers in the mosques on Fridays. But by forming an alliance with unbelievers and allowing the Spaniards to dig themselves in at the harbor mouth, Selim ben-Hafs has squandered the period of grace allowed him.”

“But,” said I, “in Christian lands the story went that the King of France had formed an alliance with the Sultan against the Emperor. How can the great Sultan accept an unbeliever as his ally, if such alliances are to be condemned?”

They looked askance at one another, and Sinan answered, “We know nothing of that, but Sultan Suleiman can of course help the King of France, if the King humbly requests it. For the object there is to weaken the power of the Emperor, whereas the ruler of Algiers and Tunis seeks the aid of unbelievers against Khaireddin and the Sultan, which is a different thing altogether.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But surely you don’t expect me to set off with my two empty hands to win back Algiers for the Sultan, whom I’ve never even seen?”

They burst out laughing and slapped one another delightedly on the shoulder. Their faces were aglow with wine and they cried together, “This is a most excellent ha\im, and his hawk’s eyes discern hidden things. That is indeed what we expect of you. With empty hands you shall win back Algiers and proclaim the great admiral Khaireddin as its governor, so that he may drive out the Spaniards and obtain peace for those unhappy coasts. After that the malevolent Spaniards can no longer obstruct our naval enterprises.”
“Then, if as you say I am a hakjm, a physician, I forbid you to drink any more wine, for already your wits are clouded. Is not Algiers a great and mighty city, surrounded by impregnable walls?”
“It is indeed,” they cried in chorus. “It is a shining city on the shores of this blue sea, a flashing jewel which our commander Khaireddin desires to set beside the crescent on Sultan Suleiman’s turban, so to deserve his favor. And the whole of this city is guarded by the island fortress of the Spaniards, which blocks the entrance to the harbor and obstructs sea traffic.”

I tore the turban from my head and cried aloud, “What curse is on me, that I must ever fall among maniacs who either cheat me or demand the impossible from me?”

But Abu el-Kasim spoke soothingly, saying, “You are here offered the opportunity for great deeds which will bring you honor. The Hafsid rule has been marked by so many crimes, fratricides, and feuds, and such licentiousness, that its overthrow will be an act pleasing to God. Baba Aroush fell in the attempt, as also his brothers Elias and Ishak, so that now only the youngest brother Khisr, called Khaireddin, remains alive.”

“You’ve set too many names whirling in my head at once,” I told them. “Nor do I see how you, a trafficker in cheap perfumes, can talk of this admiral as if he were your brother.”

Sinan interposed here, to say, “The wise man hides his treasure. Never judge a man by his clothes or his seeming poverty. Even I, poor wretch, am a Jew by birth, so that I was compelled to turn Christian before I was allowed to take the turban and acknowledge the Prophet, blessed be his name.” Mastering his tears he went on, “We, who drag our bare living from the sea, are feeble enough taken singly. Storm clouds are piling up, especially in the west, and we must unite our strength and lay the foundations of solid sea power, with the support of the Sultan, so that he recognizes Khaireddin as beylerbey in Algiers and sends him a kaftan of honor and a horsetail switch. That is the simple core of the matter. We must first get Algiers into our hands, then build an arsenal and a base for operations at sea.”

Thus it was that Sinan the Jew disclosed to me the pirates’ secret plans. There was no fault to be found with them; indeed I was bound to admit to myself that the time was ripe for their realization, now that the Emperor was waging bitter war against the French King, the Pope, and Venice. Moreover the Emperor had split his forces by frivolously sending good ships to the new countries beyond the western ocean. For my own part I cherished no very friendly feelings toward His Imperial Majesty, although I had taken part in the sack of Rome on his behalf. But neither had I any wish to lose my head for Khaireddin. I said therefore, “Muster your fleet, attack Algiers like brave men, and win it for the Sultan! The time is favorable, and I make no doubt that the Sultan will have the greatest pleasure in sending you kaftans of honor, and no doubt horses’ tails as well.”

Both talking at once, they said, “No, no, that will never do. The inhabitants must overthrow their own ruler and summon Khaireddin to be their governor. Our forces are too weak to take the place by storm, especially with the hostile Berber tribes at our heels. We know; we have tried.”

Abu el-Kasim said, “You shall come with me to Algiers, where you will gain a reputation as a physician. You shall also study at the mosque school and be circumcised, that you may gain the confidence of your teachers. Your brother shall earn his living as a wrestler in the market place near the mosque. If he’s as strong as we hope and believe, his fame will soon reach the ears of Selim ben-Hafs and he will be called to display his art before that bloodthirsty Sultan. Lastly the girl whose eyes resemble jewels of different colors shall gaze into sand, drawing lines in it with her finger, and make many useful and apposite predictions.”

I could not believe my ears and said, “Do you really mean that you won’t separate me from my brother, that you’re taking Giulia as well, and that I needn’t be parted from my dog?”

Sinan the Jew nodded, and mellowed by good wine he said, “Such was the guidance I received from the holy book. If we succeed, further tasks may await you, beside which this will appear a mere test of your loyalty.”

I gave a jeering laugh.

“Those last words of yours in no way increase my interest in your schemes, for were I successful I should only be burdened with ever more difficult tasks until I sank beneath the load. And what can you know of my loyalty? What should hinder me from going straight to Selim ben-Hafs as soon as we reach Algiers, and betraying your plans to him?”

Sinan’s one eye was stony as he said, “Slave, you might win brief happiness by so doing, but it would be followed by a misery far greater; for sooner or later Khaireddin’s hand would reach you, and he would have you flayed alive and roasted on a spit.”

But Abu el-Kasim raised his hand and said with a smile, “Don’t excite yourself, Sinan; it is my business to weigh the hearts of men, and I tell you that Michael Hakim will not betray you. How I know this I cannot tell you. I believe not even Michael himself knows it.”

His trust went to my heart, for I thought of my former life and knew that neither he nor anyone else had any very good grounds for faith in me, although my intentions had always been sincere.

“I’m but a slave,” I said. “I’m not free to act of my own will. But if Abu el-Kasim trusts me, I will try to be worthy of his trust. Answer me one more question—can a slave own slaves?”

My question surprised them very much, but Sinan the Jew at once replied, “Of course a slave may own slaves once he has attained an honorable position. But such slaves still belong to his master.”

This greatly cheered me, and I said, “Then I submit to the will of Allah, and if my loyalty should result in death, the matter is predestined and I can do nothing to prevent it. Show yourself noble and open handed, my lord Sinan, and promise me your slave Giulia if I should succeed in my task, which I very gravely doubt.”

Sinan the Jew stroked his beard with his slender fingers and said, “Slave, who are you to bargain with me?”

“There’s no bargain about it,” I said in surprise. “Such a promise would not increase my loyalty or my eagerness to serve you by a hair’s breadth. I’m not even convinced that your consent would prove a blessing to me. Nevertheless I humbly entreat you—promise her to me!”

Sinan turned the wine jar sadly upside down and said, “My own liberality brings tears to my eyes. Michael, my dear slave, I promise that on the day Khaireddin marches in triumph through the open gates of Algiers, the girl shall be yours, and I will make over my right to her in the presence of witnesses. May the devil devour me if I break my promise.”

He shed tears of emotion and embraced me, and Abu el-Kasim also put his arms about me. Then Sinan kicked aside the rich carpet, seized a copper ring that was bolted to one of the marble slabs, and with a great effort hauled this up. Forgetful of his dignity he lay down at full length on the floor, put his arm into the hole beneath and drew up a fresh wine jar.

I have only an indistinct memory of what happened then, but when I opened my eyes next morning I was lying with Sinan’s beard in my hand and Abu el-Kasim’s toes in my mouth, and I must confess that the awakening was far from pleasant.

After a Turkish bath and massage I was so much recovered and so well pleased with life that I half thought I had dreamed the events of the previous day. But after the noon prayer, Sinan ordered me to prepare for the journey.

At dusk Abu el-Kasim led us to a little vessel moored in the harbor. Giulia came too, heavily veiled and too haughty to speak a word to us. We were soon heading out to sea with a fair wind. Thus Abu el-Kasim left the island of Jerba as quietly and inconspicuously as he had come. I stared out into the darkness and put my hand to my neck; this seemed to me thinner than ever, and I reflected anxiously upon the dangers among which, despite all my good intentions, my unlucky star had plunged me.

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