BOOK 6.
The Light of Islam Returns

ANDY too was much shaken when he recognized Julien d’Avril, but he soon recovered and showed him the reverence due to his cloth.

“The past is forgotten,” he said, “and I bear you no grudge, Master Julien, although at one time I would gladly have flayed you alive and hung your hide to dry on the branch of a tree. But no one is free from guilt and who am I to cast the first stone? Tell me one thing—are you a properly ordained priest, empowered to administer the Sacraments?”

Julien looked at him reproachfully and replied, “Can you doubt it? Forget my former sin-polluted name and call me Father Julianus, for so I am known to all Vienna as a pious army chaplain. I have brought with me the Host and the holy oil, and wait to serve you, though I can see no one here at the point of death.”

Andy said, “Reverend Father Julianus, produce your sacrament of marriage and read the necessary words over me and this Hungarian orphan girl; she must tell you her own name, as my stiff tongue can’t get round it.”

Father Julianus showed no surprise, and his eyes wandered abstractedly over the bare shoulders of the bride as he remarked, “Your purpose is praiseworthy, but what has the mistress of the house to say to it? Have you paid her for the girl? She incurs much trouble and expense in her profession and I should be loath to do her an injury, for we’re good customers to one another.”

Andy stared at him uncomprehendingly, but Father Julianus raised his hand and went on, “Don’t think I doubt your sincerity or mean to slight your bride in any way. Many a marriage embarked upon in the heat of the moment or in a fit of drunkenness turns out well, and a prostitute often makes the best wife for a professional soldier. She gathers firewood for him, carries his cooking pot, and washes his clothes. Nevertheless allow me as an experienced curer of souls to suggest that you would be wise to sleep on the idea.”

When at last Andy grasped the chaplain’s meaning he flew into a passion, drew his sword, and would certainly have stabbed Father Julianus to death had I not sprung between them. I reproached our guest very volubly for his suspicions, and explained that Andy’s sweetheart was of noble birth and the heiress to a great Hungarian estate. The wedding must necessarily be a quiet one, I said, because of the unhappy conditions prevailing in her own country. Father Julianus should have three ducats for uniting them and an extra ducat for the poor box.

But Father Julianus only half believed me; peering at all three of us suspiciously, he said, “There’s something fishy about this affair. You wouldn’t have summoned me at this time of night and to a brothel if you had nothing to hide. I won’t risk my neck by being a party to it—at any rate not for four ducats.”

Andy in his madness made no attempt to bargain, but offered the blackguard twenty Hungarian ducats, which only made him the more suspicious. Nevertheless he opened his book, read the necessary benedictions, and joined the pair in matrimony without further remark. Even in his impious mouth the ancient Latin words had a solemn sound.

Finally he asked Andy for the ring, that he might set it upon the bride’s finger and declare them man and wife. In his extremity Andy asked me for Grand Vizier Ibrahim’s valuable diamond ring—a request so outrageous as to do more than anything to convince me that his mind was unhinged. Storm and swear as I would, he snatched it from my purse by force and handed it to Father Julianus, who slipped it on the girl’s finger. So it left our possession for ever.

At the sight of this magnificent stone Father Julianus looked much disconcerted and seemed to wonder what sort of men we really were. He brought the ceremony speedily to a close, pronounced the benediction with all the power and authority of Holy Church, swept the coins rapidly into his greasy purse, and prepared to leave. He said, “I have talked myself dry and will gladly drink to your welfare and success if you wish it. No doubt you will stay here for the rest of the night to fulfill the first obligations of matrimony, and I will visit you again to bestow the blessing of the Lord upon you both.”

I suspected that we had walked into a trap, but Andy caught Father Julianus by the ear, poured wine down his throat, and said hospitably, “Drink, dear Father. For once at least swallow enough to know that you have drunk. Tonight I care not what it costs. Michael can fetch us another couple of flagons of this nectar.”

Father Julianus struggled violently, spluttered and protested, but Andy forced his swollen nose into the stoup and bade me fetch more wine. When he released him for a moment the pious Father at once began accusing us of treachery and cursing us for renegades, and swore that the first time he saw us in Paris he could smell the sulphurous fumes of heresy about us. Andy soothed him, saying, “This is for your own good, dear Father Julianus, but if you’d rather have your throat cut I’ve nothing against it. Don’t tempt me too far, for I can’t forget your dastardly desertion of us at the inn outside Paris, when you left us a curt letter as sole memento of all our cares and troubles.”

He drew his knife, spat into his palm, and began to whet the blade. Father Julianus at once fell silent and his face turned gray. The villain had known every twist and turn of fortune, and saw that he would be wise to submit to the inevitable. In a faint voice he asked for more wine, and I went at once to fetch it.

It was not long before he began assuring us that he had always regarded Mohammed as a most eminent prophet, and that the Church had taken up a very narrow-minded attitude to polygamy, notwithstanding the good example set by the patriarchs. He went on to lament the harshness of the provost marshal to a poor army chaplain in begrudging him his modest earnings. But when he began to stammer and hiccup and prop himself against the edge of the table Andy told me to go, and to take Father Julianus with me. After many vain protests I staggered with the chaplain down the steep stairs and our kind hostess helped me to carry him into another room. She then offered me the services of her establishment, but I was in too dejected a mood to avail myself of them and crept into bed beside the snoring Father Julianus, where for greater safety I tied his left leg to my right. I then fell asleep, with a clear conscience as my only pillow.

I slept very heavily and was only awoken by Father Julianus tugging violently at my leg. He was sitting up beside me and having said a prayer he whispered, “Don’t move, for we’ve fallen into the hands of robbers. They have bound me so that I can’t get out of bed, and one of my legs is so numb that I haven’t a vestige of feeling in it, though I’ve done all I can to rub it back to life.”

He pummeled my own leg in despair until in pity I untied it from his and showed him where his right leg lay safe under the blanket. Having regained his composure he remembered what had happened. His face darkened, and I had just time to catch him by the shirt before he sneaked through the door. I warned him that I was quicker on my feet than he, and could easily take his life if he tried to betray us. He heaved a sigh of resignation and proposed that we should taste a drop of mulled wine together.

I had nothing against this proposal and in all harmony we crept downstairs, picked our way among sleeping soldiers and all the sordid confusion of the night’s orgies, and heated wine for ourselves over the glowing embers of the hearth. Remembering Andy and his bride I saved wine and bread for them, and being wishful to shake the dust of the city from my feet as quickly as might be I went at once to their room in company with the chaplain.

Andy lay snoring on his back, while his young wife lay in a deep sleep with her face pressed to his hairy chest and her arms about his neck. I quickly covered their nakedness with a blanket, to spare Father Julianus’s feelings, but the sound of the hot iron hissing in the wine woke Andy as by magic. His eyes flew open, and hastily thrusting the naked girl away from him he drew the blanket up to his chin and cried, “What in the name of Allah has happened? Who is this shameless woman? Take her away!”

I spoke soothingly to him as with hair on end and an expression of utter amazement on his face he swallowed a stoup of wine. Little by little memory returned to him and he sat muttering to himself, uncertain whether to be glad or sorry at his sudden marriage. So absurd did he look that I too hardly knew whether to laugh or cry.

But a cup of scalding wine is the best remedy for perplexity. We forgot our worries and broke spontaneously into a French song, as an aubade to the young bride.

But for all our din the girl never moved; indeed she scarcely seemed to breathe. She lay motionless, her lips parted and her clear skin looking even paler for the dark hair that lay in disorder over the pillow, and for the long lashes that shaded the rings beneath her eyes. Andy gazed at her fearfully and poked her with his forefinger, but she only stirred a little and went on sleeping. Tears rose to Andy’s eyes as he told us to be quiet, and with a shake of his head he said, “Let the poor child sleep. She’s a tender little foal and must be very tired, though I held her as gently as I could. I know already that this is one of the very few marriages that angels in heaven have arranged; but for all that I shall demand my legal rights and fight tooth and nail for my wife’s interests. We had better hasten at once to Hungary, to be there in time for the counting of the livestock.”

The eyes of Father Julianus glistened as he said quickly, “What will you give me besides my freedom if I help you to pass through the city gates unscathed?”

“No, no, dear Father Julianus,” said Andy with a wave of his hand. “Why should we part now that we have found one another again? If you’ll escort us out we can consider what return to make you afterward, at our leisure.”

The wine had inspired me with a most excellent idea, and I put in quickly, “Be reasonable, good Father Julianus, and you shall not regret it. It’s possible that you may return to Christendom to devote yourself to very different tasks. Only trust me. But good counsel is now precious, and we won’t haggle if you can really get us out of this carefully guarded city.”

After much argument we agreed, while cursing his rapacity, to pay him a hundred ducats for safe conduct, twenty-five to be handed over at once.

“I don’t mean to go on foot,” he said. “You must get good horses for all of us and dress as richly as you can.”

He refused to explain why this was necessary, and as we were forced to trust him we had no choice but to send the pot boy with a message to Aaron. Thanks to this honest Jew, four fairly good horses, ready saddled, stood at the door by noon, and Andy and I were able to don cuirasses inlaid with silver, though somewhat bloodstained. For the young woman Aaron provided a gown of silk and velvet and a veil of the kind women use to conceal their faces while traveling.

But with these things came a reckoning that made me gasp for breath. The charge for each item was shown separately, and the total came to no less than nineteen hundred and ninety-eight ducats. But, wrote Aaron, if we had not this sum with us he was willing to take the Grand Vizier’s ring as security, and had given the bearer two ducats in coin, thus bringing the loan to two thousand ducats, or the value of the ring.

Aaron’s shrewdness in taking advantage of our desperate situation cut me to the quick, and when I saw Andy glancing sideways at the ring on his sleeping wife’s finger I declared that though he might be ready to steal her wedding ring I could never find it in my heart to commit so mean an action. I therefore took the two ducats from the messenger and made out a bill for two thousand ducats in the Grand Vizier’s name, to be honored by the Sultan’s treasurer. I perceived certainly that this paper might cause us some trouble if it were ever presented, but I fancied that Aaron would never have the opportunity to arrange this if only we could get away quickly.

But here I was entirely mistaken, being ignorant of the amazingly swift business communications existing among Jews. Incredible as it may seem, the bill was presented at the Sultan’s treasury in Buda long before we reached that town ourselves. The Grand Vizier accepted it, although it had passed through so many hands and been increased by so many costs and charges that by the time he saw it the sum amounted to two thousand, three hundred and forty-two ducats. All too late I perceived that to Jews such a document was almost safer than coin during wartime and when great distances were involved; Aaron therefore gained rather than lost by the transaction.

The rustle of the silken gown roused the young lady; she rubbed the sleep from her long-lashed eyes and sat up to wish her husband a tender good morning. Andy sharply bade us turn our backs, and urged his wife to put on the new dress with all haste. Nevertheless our journey was further delayed by her refusal to wear the gown until it had been altered to cling more closely to her figure. There ensued a desperate running to and fro with scissors, needles, and thread, and many tears were shed before we were able to mount our horses and leave that pleasant house, having richly rewarded its proprietress for all the trouble and vexation we had caused her.

To my surprise Father Julianus made straight for the Salt Gate, which stood wide open. Crowds of people on foot or in ox carts were streaming through it out of the city. Noting our silver cuirasses the guard thrust the mob aside to make way for us and greeted Father Julianus with jovial quips, to which he replied with benedictions seasoned with salty oaths, as befitted an accomplished army chaplain. The guard commander thrust his lance suspiciously into a wagon load of hay on its way into the town, but paid no heed to those who were leaving it, and it was more from curiosity than professional zeal that he asked Father Julianus whither he was bound. The old fox replied that he was escorting the noble lady von Wolfenland zu Fichtenbaum back to her estates, and with that we rode through the archway and left the city of Vienna behind us.

My heart, which hitherto had been in my mouth, returned to its proper place and I felt so profound a relief that I gladly paid Father Julianus his second twenty-five ducats, asking how in the name of God he had known that we could leave the city so easily. He answered, “Even yesterday crowds of vagrants were going and no one stopped them, since they were only a burden to the citizens. For safety’s sake I asked you to wear good clothes, so that if necessary you could behave like noblemen and whip off any inquisitive people. Surely you don’t imagine that I would have consented to come with you if I had believed there was any danger?”

We rode forward along the squelching roads past the ruins of Moslem camps that formed a great arc about the city and extended to the distant hills. We were soon overtaken by a troop of horsemen bound in pursuit of the Turks. They hailed us with friendly shouts and warned us against Turkish patrols that might yet be lingering in the region. Toward evening the sky appeared through rifts in the clouds. It grew colder, and we knew that snow might soon be expected.

It fell that night, but Andy and I welcomed it as a reminder of our distant homeland, and it was in any case to be preferred to the mire of autumn. But the snow soon melted, leaving the roads worse than before. We were never in doubt as to our course, for pillars of smoke by day and the glow of fires, which at night lit up the horizon, showed us the route of the retreating Turkish army. An even surer indication were the headless, plundered corpses that we found impaled on stakes in the burned-out villages. All houses and barns within the radius of a day’s march from the route were burned and the inhabitants slain, and not even the soulless beasts had been spared.

The ghastly scenes filled me with revulsion; I longed to leave all such wanton devastation behind me and seek the blessings of peace. In a day or two the traces of the retreating army were fresher. Smoke still rose from the heaps of ashes as we passed; blood still flowed from the wounds of the slain. At last we came up with a few bowmen who were busily engaged in throwing corpses into a well to poison the water. We approached them and by way of credentials showed them the Grand Vizier’s ring on Mistress Eva’s finger.

They wanted to kill Father Julianus at once because of his cassock, and had already dragged him from his horse when Andy exerted his great strength and held them off. They withdrew a few paces and raised their bows; I can think of no bleaker sound than the twang of a bowstring on a chilly morning.

But I summoned up my Turkish vocabulary and threatened the spahis with the Grand Vizier’s fury if they carried out their threats, and at the same time offered them princely rewards if they would bring us to him immediately. Yet I fancy it was the sight of Mistress Eva that made them relent. No doubt they expected to get a good price for her, and perhaps hoped to sell Andy and me as well. The janissaries would certainly buy Father Julianus, for they loved to stimulate their religious fervor by roasting Christian priests alive over their campfires. These men were therefore content to deprive us of our horses, and did not even trouble to throw a noose round our necks, but merely prodded us forward with their lance butts.

We first saw the Seraskier when we reached Buda, and perhaps it was as well that we could not burden him with our own troubles until the army had halted here to rest before the remainder of the homeward march. The Sultan now proclaimed Hungary to be a friendly country and forbade his troops to plunder the villages or carry away their inhabitants into slavery. To what extent the maddened janissaries obeyed his decree I prefer not to say.

For all the hubbub of victory instigated by the Sultan I soon noticed that the mood of the army left much to be desired. On his arrival in Buda the Grand Vizier had caused the holy crown of St. Stephen to be brought forth and placed in his tent for public display. Andy and I, standing like beggars by the tent door, watched the high pashas come out shrugging their shoulders and exchanging scornful smiles. We realized that our welcome would be none the warmer for delay and sent in our names to Ibrahim, who as usual received us in the middle of the night. He was fingering the crown as we entered, and beside him sat that bird of ill omen, Master Gritti. We prostrated ourselves and kissed the ground before the Seraskier, but his reception of us was less cordial than it might have been.

“You dogs, you devil’s spawn!” he cried. His handsome face was violently flushed with wine. “I never sent you to Vienna to lie wallowing in a brothel! Where are your turbans? Where is my valuable ring? Did I ask you to get into debt with your whores? I had to argue for hours with the Defterdar before he would honor your draft.”

Andy answered mildly, “Don’t condemn us unheard. Your ring’s not lost; I gave it to my wife. I’ll pay for it when I can.”

The Seraskier turned to Master Gritti with a look of despair.

“What are we to do with these mad dogs ? They even boast of their misdeeds.” To us he went on, “You should at least have set fire to Vienna, like brave men; but it seems you settled down in a house of ill fame and misconducted yourselves to the value of two thousand ducats, before crawling back to offend me with your dissipated faces.”

Andy reddened and said warmly, “Allah be good to you! How you distort the truth. I tell you I’ve entered into Christian matrimony, so there’s no question of misconduct; and as for Michael, he’s too badly scared of the French pox to think of it. As a great general you should know that it would take a platoon of men to spend two thousand ducats in a brothel. Thanks to our boldness and enterprise we escaped a hideous death and so saved you two irreplaceable servants. Think shame of your base accusations, and beg our pardons before I lose my temper.”

He looked so solemn that Seraskier Ibrahim burst out laughing and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes he said soothingly, “I was but testing you, for I know you have done your best. But not even the bravest man can turn bad fortune to good, and Aaron has put in a word for you through his colleagues. I do regret my ring, however, for the stone was of rare purity. May I see your bride and satisfy myself that she is worthy of it, or do you prefer as a good Moslem to conceal her face from me?”

Andy replied delightedly that being a Christian his wife observed no undue modesty where her face was concerned; she was therefore summoned, and with her Father Julianus slunk into the tent. At the sight of him the prejudiced Seraskier instinctively made horns with his fingers and said, “How can you allow a Christian priest to pollute my tent? I see by his cassock and his beardless chin that he belongs to the most pernicious order of idolater.”

I explained hurriedly, “I rescued Father Julianus from Vienna and at peril to my own life brought him here, thereby doing you a greater service than you know, for I have a plan which I would prefer to set before you in private.”

Meanwhile Mistress Eva drew aside her veil, revealing her shyly smiling face and dark eyes. The Grand Vizier gazed at her with pleasure and said politely, “She is indeed fair. Her brow is whiter than jasmine, her eyebrows are musk, and her mouth like the pomegranate. I regret my ring no longer and rejoice with you, Antar, in the capture of so lovely a prize. And I will admit that both you and your brother have proved your loyalty to me, though Allah preserve me from any more such costly demonstrations.”

I was delighted to find that like a true nobleman he freely submitted to the will of Allah and meant to retain us in his service. Andy profited by the auspicious moment and said promptly, “Naturally I ask no reward for my fruitless labors, yet I should be overjoyed if you would show your favor by speaking a word to King Zapolya on behalf of my wife, so that her estates on the Transilvanian border may be restored to her. Eva, my dear wife, tell the noble Seraskier your family name.”

Master Gritti was already tearing his hair and when Mistress Eva modestly pronounced her name he broke out in lamentation, “Do not listen to this Antar, dear Grand Vizier! Every renegade in the army has hastened to marry some nobleman’s daughter in order to claim her inheritance, and Hungary would be lost if all these unlawful claims were granted. King Zapolya has therefore followed my advice and is amalgamating these properties so as to place them in the hands of a few trusted persons. Instead of the tens of thousands of small estates that now exist, there will remain only a thousand or so large ones. You will realize how greatly this must simplify the work of the taxgatherers and strengthen the present government, since the new landowners will be fully aware that they stand or fall with King Zapolya.”

The Grand Vizier said wearily, “I don’t want to interfere in Hungary’s internal affairs, but I must protect the Sultan’s subjects and the interests of my own servants. Antar shall therefore take possession of his wife’s estates, but in order not to impede King Zapolya’s excellent land reform I will gladly allow him to add other properties to his own and so make it as large as the rest. See that my wishes are respected, Aloisio Gritti, if you would remain my friend.”

I nudged Andy to make him fall on his knees and kiss the Grand Vizier’s hand, and the delighted bride followed her husband’s example. The Seraskier then dismissed them. But I remained, meaning to strike while the iron was hot, and held Father Julianus by the arm. When Master Gritti had left a great weariness came over Ibrahim’s handsome face; I noticed that he had grown thinner during the campaign and that lines had appeared on his smooth white brow. He said with a yawn, “It’s late, Michael el-Hakim. Why do you burden me with your presence any longer?”

I answered, “The moon shines while the sun reposes. Night is the moon’s time. Let me speak and so serve you, mean slave though I am.”

He said, “Be seated, my slave, and let the Christian priest sit also, since he is so much older than we.”

He brought out a flagon and three goblets from under his cushions and allowed us to drink to his prosperity. Sipping a little himself, he said, “Speak your mind, Michael el-Hakim.”

I replied in carefully chosen words. “There is but one war—that between the Sultan and the Emperor, Islam and Europe, the Crescent and the Cross. The Emperor himself has often said that his main object is to unite all Christian lands in a common crusade to crush Ottoman power. Any Christian who opposes the Emperor is therefore—whether he knows it or not—the Sultan’s ally. The heretic Luther and his followers are the best of these and you would do well to give him secret support, further his aims, and above all champion the cause of religious freedom.”

The Grand Vizier gazed at me searchingly and asked, “During your wanderings in Germany did you ever hear of a certain Margrave Philip, the ruler of a principality called Hesse? He has taken Luther under his protection. Is he a powerful man? How large is his domain? Can he be trusted?”

I felt a pang at my heart as he spoke that name. I saw in my mind’s eye a fair-haired, blue-eyed man in armor surveying the gashed body of a priest who lay in a pool of blood; I saw him sitting in the sunshine with his hands about his knees, before a church door in Franken- hausen. Since those violent days an eternity had passed and I had lived many lives; but now I realized to my surprise that only five years lay between me and that chance encounter. I answered eagerly, “I know him. He told me in jest that he thought of appointing Luther to be his house chaplain. His province is a modest one and he is burdened by debt, unless he has since enriched himself by the theft of church lands. But he is a warlike man and a fine horseman. I can’t answer for his integrity, for he struck me as a singularly cold-blooded creature to whom religion was an instrument of temporal profit rather than a path to salvation.”

The Grand Vizier flung his golden goblet at my head and cried, “Why have you never told me all this before, you dog? I could have made good use of it last spring when King Zapolya was negotiating with Duke Philip’s secret envoy.”

I rubbed the growing bump on my forehead and retorted in injured tones, “Why did you never ask me? Now perhaps you understand what you lose by denying me your confidence and ignoring my knowledge of Christian politics. You have treated me like the meanest of slaves and shut me up with that senile old fellow Piri-reis, to play with toy boats in a sandbox. But now tell me honestly what agreement you have made with Duke Philip and the Protestants. Pay no heed to Father Julianus, for he understands nothing of our language and will keep quiet so long as he has a wine jar within reach. I am curious to hear these things and will gladly give you my advice.”

The Grand Vizier looked a little ashamed of his hastiness, and said, “It’s true that I’ve underrated your capabilities, Michael el-Hakim, and I should have placed more faith in your stars, as Khaireddin did, and my friend Mustafa ben-Nakir. Last spring, having made his protest before parliament, this Philip of Hesse sought to unite the other Protestant German princes in an alliance, to defend their faith against the Emperor and his power. For the same reason he sent secret envoys to the court of France and to King Zapolya, to beg for help. He was shrewd enough to foresee the inevitable clash between the Emperor and the Protestants, and as soon as he heard that the Sultan was preparing to march on Europe he declared himself willing to raise the standard of revolt in the German states. But the other princes feared attack by the rest of Germany if they joined us; and I suspected his own good faith, knowing that these heretics quarrel among themselves and hold conflicting beliefs. I therefore urged this fiery duke, through King Zapolya, to seek first religious unity within his party. No doubt the foremost prophets—the prophet of the Swiss Confederation, for example, and those of Germany—are now met together in some German city to arrive at a common religious formula. In such circumstances the German Catholics will find themselves squeezed between the Protestant princes in the north and the Confederation in the south, as a glance at the map will show.”

I answered candidly, “Luther is an obstinate man, as I know. He likes to be cock of the walk and will tolerate no other prophet beside him. Sectarianism is in the very nature of heresy, for once men begin to interpret the Scriptures for themselves each does it as best suits him until all is confusion and every prophet vows that God speaks directly through his mouth. Nevertheless they are all Christians, and a united Protestant Germany would turn with equal repugnance from both Islam and the Pope.”

“No, no, you’re wrong, Michael el-Hakim. No bitterer hatred exists than that between sects of the same religion. Do you not remember that when Mohammed the Conqueror brought Constantinople under Ottoman rule the Greek church chose Sultan rather than Pope, and it was this schism rather than the weapons of the Osmanlis that brought about the downfall of the Greek Emperor? In this case also I believe that the Protestants will choose the Sultan rather than submit to the Emperor’s will and the teaching of the Pope.”

He sank into profound thought, and waved us away. Father Julianus walked through the camp with me and back to the city, so unsteadily that I had to hold his arm. He had not understood a word of what was said, but declared thickly that Grand Vizier Ibrahim was a most remarkable statesman, since not the Emperor himself had better wine in his cellar than he.

Next morning the Grand Vizier sent me a princely kaftan of honor and a horse whose saddle and bridle were adorned with silver and turquoises. My salary was raised to two hundred aspers a day, so that I was now a man of some consequence and could look the future boldly in the face. I was of course compelled to feed and clothe Father Julianus and give him great quantities of wine. I presented him with the dress of a learned tseleb, to shield him from the hostility of the janissaries who bore intense hatred to Christian priests.

Andy obtained leave from the Grand Vizier to set off to Tran- silvania to inspect his property, but was expressly forbidden to remain in King Zapolya’s service. He was to return to Istanbul at latest in the following spring, and leave a trustworthy tenant in charge. This arrangement had no charms for Andy, who had hoped to live henceforth a life of lordly idleness on his own estates. It was now necessary for him to procure suitable gifts for the Grand Vizier, Master Gritti, and his new lord, King Zapolya. But since the mementos we had gathered outside Vienna had all been lost in a bog together with the Grand Vizier’s baggage, poor Andy had not an asper more than I.

We turned in our need to Sinan the Builder, but he had already spent what the Sultan had given him on quantities of books and manuscripts. At last to his great shame Andy was forced to beg his wife for the Grand Vizier’s ring, to pawn it. But Mistress Eva for all her youth was a woman of sense. She asked in surprise, “Why don’t you go to a Jew ? It was my father’s custom. The Jew can claim repayment from your steward and you’ll be spared these unbecoming worries.”

Andy approved of this advice and we went at once to a Jew who had been recommended by one of the Defterdar’s clerks. He received us in a murky cellar dwelling, bewailing the evil times that prevented all profitable business. Andy realized that he could not demand too much from this man who was evidently burdened by many cares. He had thought of asking for a hundred ducats as journey money, but now his heart failed him.

“Allah preserve me from adding to your trials,” he said. “Perhaps we could manage with ten—”

Before he could pronounce the word “ducats,” the Jew cried aloud to Abraham and explained volubly that for so large a sum he must have better security than a promise and a note of hand, and although I had always had my doubts of Mistress Eva’s estates I began to suspect the Defterdar’s clerk of talking nonsense about this man’s great fortune, since he made such a song about ten ducats. I said to Andy, “Come away! I can lend you that much if need be. I only hope you can pay me when sheep-shearing time comes round.”

I was wearing the kaftan that the Grand Vizier had given me, and the Jew no doubt mistook my rank and position, for he now bowed to me very eagerly and said in an altered tone, “You shall not leave me empty handed, most worthy gentlemen, for it would bring me bad luck. Let us talk the matter over. I know of the favor shown you by King Zapolya, but allow me to tell you that sheep shearing in Hungary is not the profitable business you seem to think. How can we tell who will shear them next spring? The Tartars, Moldavians, and Poles are even now taking advantage of the general confusion to steal sheep and other livestock, and no doubt this is happening on your estates also, my dear sir. Indeed it was a desperate gamble on your part to take possession of these domains, and I fear that without responsible backing you will as time goes on merely increase your debt.”

He spoke so honestly and benevolently that Andy believed him and even I began to wonder whether he was justified in advancing ten gold ducats on Andy’s problematical flocks. Andy said, “If things in Buda are as bad as you’d have us believe I had better return papers and seals to Janushka and tell him to look for a bigger simpleton than I am to take over these estates.”

The Jew rubbed his hands together and bowed till his corkscrew curls swept the floor, and having begged to see King Zapolya’s deed of conveyance he said, “Noble Sir Andreas von Wolfenland, I understand that in the Sultan’s dominions you have been used to living in a style superior to that customary in our poor land. Should the lambing fail or war ravage your domains, a promissory note might cause you embarrassment. Furthermore, I shall incur expense if I have to collect my money from Istanbul. Yet risks must be taken if any profit is to be made. Let us talk no more of promises and notes of hand. I will advance the sum you ask in return for the shearing rights of your flocks for the next two years. I may suffer great loss by this, but all is in the hand of God.”

Andy glanced at me in doubt and I whispered quickly that he should close with this offer, since ten ducats in the hand were worth a hundred sheep in some godforsaken corner of the Hungarian steppes. But Andy weakened on seeing the Jew wipe tears from his eyes, and he said, “No, no. I’m an honest man and you have a wife and children to feed. I cannot agree to your risking your modest fortune for my sake. Let us make out a binding promissory note, and for your trouble and expenses I am ready to pay ten or even fifteen per cent.”

The Jew dried his tears and his face darkened as he said, “You’re greedier than noblemen in general are wont to be; you grudge me a fair profit. Nevertheless, to confirm the good understanding between us, you shall have the money in return for only one year’s shearing rights. In that case I shall expect the trade monopoly in all your villages, including the salt traffic. My agents shall inquire into the breed of sheep in the region and all other matters concerning the estate. You can rely on me for the best terms, for I’m an honest man and would be a father to you.”

Andy thanked him politely, and replied, “Why should I resist when you’re so bent on risking your money? All I ask is that you won’t reproach me if things go wrong. You must feed my flocks and keep my sheepdogs and horses in good condition, however, or I shall make no further bargains with you next time I visit my estate.”

The Jew’s face lit up as he answered eagerly, “From the first moment of our meeting I was charmed by your honest character, for you did not treat me with contempt as most Hungarian noblemen do. I respect you because you know how to hold your own; therefore I agree to your proposal on condition I may pay you the sum in silver and change it into gold for you myself. In this way I can profit by the exchange rate, that is to say six aspers per gold ducat, which will enable me to feed my wife and children, even should I lose by the deal.”

This seemed to me a very moderate request, though it was easy to reckon out that he would gain one ducat on the ten. He now begged us to excuse him while he worked out his gains according to the day’s rate of exchange, and to fetch out the money, which in wartime he had to keep hidden. We were taken to an adjoining room which to my amazement was richly furnished with costly rugs, gilt chairs, velvet curtains, and Venetian mirrors. A servant brought us a gigantic silver dish heaped with grapes, pears, and other good Hungarian fruits. After inquiring whether we were strict Mussulmans the Jew also ordered wine to be served. It was clear that he wished to keep on good terms with Andy, though his lavish hospitality seemed out of all proportion to our business.

We ate the fruit and drank the wine, and when the Jew returned nothing was left upon the dish but a few cores and the skeleton of the grape bunch. Yet he was not at all distressed at this, and smiled radiantly as he led us back to the mean counting house. And here we stared; for on the table a mass of gold coin lay neatly stacked beside a number of sealed leather bags. The Jew evidently misunderstood our astonishment, for rubbing his hands together in some embarrassment he said, “Ten was the sum mentioned, was it not? Ten thousand ducats in silver are equal by statute to six hundred thousand aspers. But at today’s exchange rate only five hundred and forty thousand when changing gold to silver, and five hundred and seventy thousand, silver to gold. I take as a rule one asper per ducat for costs and charges. So I give you five hundred and forty aspers in silver. By changing this to gold at the current rate you receive nine thousand, four hundred and seventy-three ducats, and thirty-nine aspers in silver. One asper per ducat for charges comes to one hundred and seventy-five ducats and twenty-three aspers. Your net total is therefore nine thousand, two hundred and ninety-eight ducats and sixteen aspers, and I have laid this sum on the table. Pray be so good as to count it yourselves, and note that each of the sealed bags contains five hundred ducats. As a matter of form, sir, I would ask you to sign this lease. I trust your word entirely, but I’m an old man and may die at any time, and your life too is one of hazard.”

Andy said sulkily, “You wouldn’t make a fool of me, good father?”

The Jew tore his beard and said in some heat, “Sir, such cheese paring is unworthy of you! I am entitled to reckon my charges at the rate of fifty-four aspers to the ducat, though you pay fifty-seven. The difference amounts to only five hundred and twenty-five aspers, and a distinguished gentleman like yourself should think shame to accuse me of dishonesty for such a trifle.”

Andy said, “No, no. But I have little head for figures, so you must round off the sum to nine thousand three hundred ducats, and I will gladly acknowledge the receipt of ten thousand ducats for a year’s lease of my sheep.”

With a sigh the Jew took sixteen aspers from the table and replaced them with two worn gold ducats which I perceived at once to be underweight. The coins on the table were all newly-minted and whole, however, and so I willingly forgave him this slight deception.

Andy asked me to read the contract aloud to him, and we found it to be fully in accordance with what had been agreed, and though nothing was mentioned as to the care of the livestock, the Jew pointed out that it would be to his own interest to take good care of the farms, for he hoped that next year the contract might be renewed on slightly better terms for another five or ten years. Our eyes were by this time fully open to the excellent stroke of business Andy had unwittingly done in dragging that poor little wench from the gutters of Vienna and making her his wife.

But our dealings with the Jew were not yet over, for though I guessed that King Zapolya and Master Gritti would prefer ready money, the Grand Vizier at least must be offered something more personal, and for this no one could have given us better advice than the sagacious Jew. Such things as precious stones, ornaments, saddles, and damascened gold harnesses the Grand Vizier already had in abundance, so something entirely special must be found. At last Andy bought from the Jew a most marvelous clock of Niirnberg make, which struck both hours and quarters. It showed also the day, the month, and the year, and would thus be of great advantage to an absent-minded person, though unfortunately it was based on the Christian measurement of time. However, we guessed that because of his wars and other dealings with European countries the Grand Vizier might be glad to keep count of the Christian reckoning.

This clock was so complicated and so ingeniously built that I could not understand how a human brain could have devised it. The case was of beautiful workmanship, and the Jew contrived to set it going long enough for us to see how at each hour a little secret door flew open and a smith, followed by a priest and a knight in full armor, stepped forth to strike the hour on a little silver bell, and then disappeared through another door on the opposite side of the clock.

Its only fault was that it did not go, and the watchmaker to whom it had been sent for repair had been sold into slavery by the Turks. Nevertheless the Jew hoped he might yet be found, and we could then give him to the Grand Vizier with the clock, to regulate it and keep it going. Because the mechanism was for the present out of order the Jew sold us this treasure for only twelve hundred ducats, which Andy gladly paid, and we then took a cordial leave of this wealthy man.

When after a great deal of difficulty we were able to trace the clock- maker, Andy paid no less than sixty ducats for him, without bargaining, though there was little left of him but skin and beard. In his free-handedness he even gave the old fellow new clothes, and after a bellyful of food the man wept copious tears, tried to kiss Andy’s hands, and blessed him as his benefactor. He at once set to work on the clock, declaring that he knew its caprices, and even without the necessary instruments and parts was able to make it work well enough to convince the Grand Vizier of its surpassing excellence. He swore by the saints that once in Istanbul he would make this timepiece the marvel of the Seraglio and would devote the rest of his life to tending it. Thus it was that the clock secured him a carefree existence as the Grand Vizier’s slave.

We now ordered four strong slaves to carry it carefully to Ibrahim’s tent, where the clockmaker set it going; the Grand Vizier marveled greatly at it and thanked Andy for the princely gift. I fancy Andy rose notably in the Grand Vizier’s esteem, for as a further mark of favor Ibrahim sent him and his wife two magnificently caparisoned saddle horses and provided an escort of a hundred spahis to attend them to their estate.

Andy, having now done everything possible to secure his position, made ready to leave for the Transilvanian border. When I saw that in his black ingratitude he was forgetting me, his unmerited successes smarted within me and I said, “The frog puffed himself up until he burst. The money is yours; you can throw it down the jakes if you wish. But your coldness to me is very wounding, and I think you owe a morsel of consideration to one who is all but your own brother, and whom alone you have to thank for your prosperity.”

My words and my unfeigned tears brought Andy to a better frame of mind, and as icy winds chased the snow clouds over the towers of Buda, we seemed transported to our own land. We wept on one another’s breast; we swore that nothing in the world should sever our friendship and that we should be godfathers to one another’s children. When at last we parted Andy pressed upon me a thousand ducats, saying that even this sum was but slight acknowledgment of my long and faithful friendship.

We had by now reached the end of October. The Sultan ordered the camp to be struck and the janissaries with many forebodings began the long march home. Before we left Buda, the Grand Vizier summoned me and Father Julianus once more to a nocturnal discussion and said, “It may be that you’re right, Michael el-Hakim, and are more familiar with German religious questions than I am. King Zapolya’s secret representative at the court of Margrave Philip reports that the heretic prophets have met in Marburg, the capital of Hesse, but that after a couple of days’ debate they separated in open hostility without having reached a single agreement. It seems that Luther and Zwingli did nothing but accuse one another of error and arrogance. I therefore agree to your plan, Michael el-Hakim, and will send you to the German states to sow even more bitter dissension among the Protestants and so draw them nearer Islam.”

I was aghast at his words, and made haste to reply, “You have quite mistaken my meaning, noble Grand Vizier, for I’m no orator. No, no, it is Father Julianus who should be sent to Germany, for he is an experienced preacher who can smell out heresy afar off. He will choose the right man in every town for the work; he will sow the seeds of Islam in people’s minds so that in their enthusiasm for the new ideas they will forget all that Christendom holds in common and rally round separate articles of faith. One will preach the one God, another the sinfulness of idolatry, a third predestination, and a fourth polygamy as justified by Scripture. I believe that Father Julianus knows his Bible so well that within a few days he could find texts to support all these arguments.”

Father Julianus stared at me as if the ground had opened at his feet and the devil in all his hideousness had appeared.

“Get thee behind me, Satan!” he cried. “Would you make a heretic of me? Never will I consent to it; I will choose rather the glorious death of the martyrs.”

“But can you not see, Father Julianus,” I said, “that in sowing dissension among the heretics you do Holy Church the greatest possible service? I am persuaded that the Grand Vizier will furnish you with money enough to keep you well provided with wine and beer in the German lands—well enough even to invite others to share it with you. Should you be suspected of disseminating false doctrines, you have only to deny all you’ve said and blame your imperfect knowledge of the language for any errors there may have been. But if all goes well—you should need no more than a couple of years to complete the task—and if you send me details of all those, young or old, learned or simple, poor or rich who are in any way inclined to embrace and proclaim the new teaching, I am sure the Grand Vizier will so reward you as to enable you to spend the remainder of your days in peace and comfort before a never failing wine jar.”

Conflicting thoughts were mirrored on Father Julianus’s puffy face, and I could read there lingering fears for his immortal soul. Persuasively I went on, “Who knows but that the Grand Vizier might approach the Curia through a Venetian banking house, and buy you a bishopric in some retired corner of France or Italy? There you might enjoy a well-earned rest without molestation by inquisitive people.”

A warm gleam came into Father Julianus’s eye; he gazed dreamily into the distance, and at length exclaimed with a sob, “How devoutly I would serve in that exalted office, wretch and sinner that I am! Truly, Michael, from now on I will reform and do all I can to be worthy of the blessed task entrusted to me.”

Falling on his knees he kissed the Grand Vizier’s hand and watered it with his tears. I feared that Ibrahim would recoil from the expense of my plan, and I said quickly in Turkish, “Take no thought of the outlay, noble Grand Vizier, for Father Julianus will hardly get out of Germany alive to claim his bishopric. These new prophets are at least as fanatical in the defense of the purity of their faith as the Holy Office. Yet if by any miracle he should survive, it would be no bad thing for you if a Christian bishop were to owe his position to Islam.”

Ibrahim nodded and said, “As you will, Michael el-Hakim. I trust you, and leave you a free hand with the details. If it fails,
tsaushes will bring you the black kaftan and the silken noose, and will stay to see that you do not misinterpret the significance of the gift.”

Perhaps this reminder of my mortality was wholesome. At any rate I began to see that I was meddling very rashly with matters that in no way concerned me. Nevertheless the plan was adopted and the details arranged by which Father Julianus could transmit his reports secretly to Istanbul.

By degrees Buda was emptied of Turkish troops and Father Julianus set forth in good heart upon his return to Vienna, where he meant to preach about his miraculous rescue from the hands of the Turks. After that he would make for the German states. Having seen him safely off, I bought some war mementos and other presents for Giulia and then embarked on one of the transport vessels. This carried me down the Danube until I was able to join Sinan the Builder once more, in whose litter I completed the journey to Istanbul in comfort.

Of the obstacles and hardships encountered by the army on its homeward march I will say only that the losses sustained were greater than those of the siege itself, and that at least ten thousand Hungarian and German slaves perished on the way.

For my part I could think only of Giulia and of our future home on the shores of the Bosphorus. Sinan the Builder, thin, worn, and unable to sleep after his unremitting toil and anxieties, was weary of my chatter long before we reached Istanbul and at length seized his hammer and threatened to crack my skull if I would not be quiet.

The nearer we came to Istanbul the more impatiently did I long to hold Giulia in my arms again, as I had done in the moments of our greatest happiness. I longed to tell her how well I had prospered, for with my two hundred aspers a day she could no longer look upon me as an inept and unenterprising man. By a singular irony of fate, the weather improved as we came nearer home. The rain ceased, wintry chill gave place to springlike warmth, and our eyes, weary of bleak mountains and heavy cloud, were now dazzled by the fresh green of countless gardens, although plane trees and acacias had long since shed their leaves.

The air was like well-cooled wine, the sun shone from a cloudless sky, and the smell of the sea came to us on the wind as the Sultan rode into his city at the head of his janissaries amid deafening acclamation. Drums and cymbals clashed and the captive slaves dragged themselves along, glancing sullenly to right and left as they beheld the vast extent of the Ottoman capital. Bonfires blazed everywhere that night. Even in Pera, the Venetian quarter, they glowed like strings of pearls.

On fire myself with longing I rode straight to Abu el-Kasim’s house, mounted on the horse given me by the Sultan. On my head I wore a broad turban adorned with a tuft of feathers in a jeweled clasp. From my belt under the kaftan of honor jingled a heavy purse and, besides my copper pen case, I wore a saber in a silver scabbard. I had hoped to find the gate flung wide and Giulia, warned by the sound of music, trembling in the doorway and blessing the day that brought me safely home from all the perils of war. Such was my fancied homecoming. But having waited so long outside the closed gate that inquisitive neighbors began to gather about me, I drew my sword, leaned forward in the saddle, and hammered on the gate with the hilt.

My horse was whinnying and dancing about and I had great difficulty in keeping my seat when at last I heard the clash of bolts and Abu el-Kasim’s deaf-mute stood before me in the gateway. When he recognized me he quite lost his head and flung the gate open with a crash, uttering many incomprehensible sounds meanwhile. The horse reared, shied, and bolted into the courtyard, whence Giulia’s furry blue cat dashed away in a fright with bushy tail erect. At this my mount kicked and leaped sideways, throwing me headfirst to the ground. It was a marvel that my neck was not broken, though as it was my drawn sword made a deep gash in one calf—my first and only wound of the campaign.

The deaf-mute flung himself to the ground in remorse, beating his brow and breast with clenched fist so that I had not the heart to chastise him. At this moment a dark-skinned Italian appeared in the doorway with coat unbuttoned and striped breeches open at the waist. Smoothing his gleaming black hair he demanded angrily who dared to disturb his noble mistress’s siesta. He was young and well built, though his dark complexion hinted at low birth; his features were as faultless as those of a Greek statue, and as expressionless. His brilliant eyes seemed light in comparison with his skin, and his thin lips showed determination, though at the moment they were distorted by a-sneer.

I have described him thus fully to show that outwardly he was in no way repellent; yet from the first I felt a deep distrust of him. For this his arrogant behavior was not to blame, for when he realized who I was he displayed a flattering awe, and having restored some order to his own dress began respectfully shaking the sand from my kaftan. He then addressed me in well-chosen words. “I beg you not to be offended at so miserable a welcome, noble sir. We could not guess that you would return so soon. Regard for your lady should have impelled you to send word of your coming, that she might have prepared the house for celebration and received you in a fitting manner. Just now she is taking her midday rest, but I will rouse her instantly.”

This I sternly forbade him to do, saying that I preferred to wake her myself and so afford her a pleasant surprise. I then demanded in some irritation who he was and how he dared give himself the airs of the master of the house and try to prevent me seeing my own wife. He changed his tone at once and said on a note of humility, “Ah, Master Michael, I’m but Alberto the slave, from the city of Verona where my father still works as an honest tailor. I ought to have chosen his trade, but I was lured away by my craving for adventure and later captured by Turkish pirates. For a while I toiled as a galley slave and was then offered for sale in the bazaar here in Istanbul. Mistress Giulia took pity on my wretchedness, bought me, and installed me here as major-domo. Yet I have no servants under me save this feebleminded deaf-mute, who is not worth the salt in his broth.”

I asked how Abu el-Kasim could have approved of this purchase, since both house and slave were his. Alberto looked surprised and answered, “I have never seen this Abu el-Kasim, though the neighbors mentioned some shady drug dealer of that name. I believe he left here in the summer for Bagdad. Who knows if he will ever return?”

I perceived that many changes had taken place since my departure, and snapping at the Italian to keep his eyes lowered when addressing me as befitted a slave, I stepped into the house. He kept close at my heels and strove to push past me when I paused to look about. I hardly recognized the rooms, so cluttered were they with trash from the bazaar, and I constantly stumbled over stools, cushions, censers, and bird cages. When at last I reached the curtains concealing the entrance to Giulia’s room Alberto thrust himself in front of me, and falling on his knees he cried out, “Do not wake her too abruptly, noble sir! Let me give her a little warning by banging on a tray!”

Touched by his consideration for the lady of the house, I was nevertheless resolved to give myself the joy of surprising her. I pushed aside the agitated Italian, drew the curtains and tiptoed into the room. And there, once my eyes had grown accustomed to the half-darkness, the sight of Giulia abundantly rewarded my starved senses.

She must have been tossing restlessly in her sleep, for she lay quite naked amid the tumbled bedclothes. Her face looked thin and there were dark rings beneath her eyes, but her golden hair lay in abundance over the pillow, her breasts were like rosebuds, and her limbs like musk and amber. Never in my most amorous dreams had I seen her so alluringly fair.

I gasped and praised Allah for according his champion so glorious a homecoming. Then I bent over her, caressed her gently with my finger tips, and whispered her name. Without opening her eyes she stretched herself voluptuously, wound her white arms about my neck and sighed in her sleep, “No more, no more, you cruel man!”

Nevertheless she made room for me beside her, groped for me with her hands, and whispered, “But you may take off your clothes and lie beside me!”

I was startled at her readiness until I realized that she was enjoying some delightful dream and talking in her sleep. With a smile I did as she asked, flung off my clothes, and crept onto the bed beside her. Throwing her arms about my waist she pressed me to her and begged me sleepily to caress her. The depth of her slumber surprised me, but I could see that she did not want to cut short her dream and was putting off the moment of waking.

I did as she asked until in my excitement I made too abrupt a movement and woke her. Her wonderful eyes flew open. If I had had the smallest doubt of the soundness of her sleep I could have asked no better proof of it than her behavior now, for when she discovered what was happening she was quite beside herself with fright; she tore herself away and hid her nakedness beneath the covers. Then she burst out sobbing with her face in her hands, thrusting me away when I sought to comfort her. Filled with compunction for the trick I had played, I humbly begged her forgiveness. When at last she could speak she asked in a quavering voice, “Is it really you, Michael? When did you come, and where is Alberto?”

Hearing this, Alberto, who was standing behind the curtain, called out reassuringly and told her not to be alarmed by the blood on my trousers; the wound was slight, he said, and had occurred when I fell off my horse in the courtyard. His prattle so enraged me that I swore at him and told him not to stand there spying upon us. But Giulia said, “In fear and trembling I have counted the weeks and months of your absence—and are oaths the first words I must hear from you when at last you return? Don’t insult that faithful servant who has so well protected me since Abu el-Kasim left me in the lurch. Have you no more regard for me than to force your way in and place me in so degrading a situation before my own servant?”

This was the Giulia I knew, but she had evidently been badly startled and it relieved her to scold me. Even such words as these rang pleasantly in my ears after so long an absence and I tried to embrace her, but once again she broke loose from me and snapped, “Don’t touch me, Michael. By the rules of your religion I ought first to wash myself, and you too are dusty from your journey. You never were considerate to me, but at least remember your duties as a Moslem and leave me alone until I have bathed and made myself beautiful.”

But I protested that she had never been lovelier than in her present disordered state, and so begged and pleaded with her that at last she gave in and surrendered herself to me, muttering the whole time about my thoughtless and insulting conduct and so depriving me of half my pleasure. Afterward she rose quickly, turned her back upon me, and began to dress without a word. Receiving no answer to any of my humble questions I too became angry and exclaimed, “So this is the homecoming I have so long awaited! But why should I have expected anything else? You’ve not even asked how I am—and as for that scoundrel Alberto, I mean to send him straight back to the galleys where he belongs.”

Giulia spun round and spat like a savage cat. With blazing eyes she cried, “I see no change in you, either! You only talk like that about Alberto to hurt me. He’s as good a man as you—perhaps better, for at least he comes of honest parents and has no need to make a secret of his birth. And what may you have been up to in Hungary? I could never have guessed the sort of thing that goes on at these campaigns if I hadn’t heard about it at the harem.”

Hurt though I was by her unworthy suspicions, I understood that her jealousy had been aroused by the malicious gossip she had heard. For the women of the harem were in the habit of bribing the Defter- dar’s eunuchs to spy upon the Sultan and the Grand Vizier, so that these exalted gentlemen had to pay dearly for any little adventure they might engage in.

I said, “The Sultan and the Grand Vizier are men of virtue and it’s unseemly to speak ill of them. But your groundless jealousy shows perhaps that you still love me and care what becomes of me. Therefore I will swear on the Koran—and on the Cross, too, if that will satisfy you—that I never went near a woman, much as I desired to at times. There is no one like you, Giulia. And if at any time I did forget you, a wholesome dread of the French pox restrained me from thoughtless conduct.”

Hearing my grave words Giulia regained a measure of composure, though she still sobbed and laughed by turns as if someone had been tickling her. Then she said, “Still the same old Michael! Tell me then what you have done and what presents you have brought for me, and then you shall hear how to the best of my woman’s ability I have sought to build up a stable future for us both.”

I could contain myself no longer and told her of all my successes—of the two hundred aspers a day and of the Grand Vizier’s promise of a piece of land and a house. I talked on ever more eagerly and boastfully, until at length I noticed that Giulia’s brow was black as thunder and her mouth twisted as if she had bitten into a sour apple. I broke off in a fright and asked suspiciously, “Do you grudge me my prosperity, my dear Giulia? Why aren’t you glad? We have left all our anxieties behind us and I cannot imagine what is on your mind.” Giulia shook her head dejectedly and said, “No, no, dear Michael. Of course I am glad of all your success, but I’m afraid for you. With your usual credulity you’ve given yourself entirely into the power of that ambitious Ibrahim. He’s more dangerous than you suspect and I would rather see you halt in time than be swept to perilous heights by clinging to the skirts of his kaftan.”

I retorted hotly that the Grand Vizier was the noblest man and finest statesman I had ever met. It was a pleasure to serve him, not only for his munificence but also for his princely conduct and his brilliant eyes. Giulia’s face darkened still further and she vowed he had bewitched me as he had bewitched the Sultan—for in no other way could she explain the strong and sinister friendship that bound Suleiman to his slave.

Greatly discomposed I told her that she with her eyes of different colors would do well not to talk of witchcraft, whereupon she burst into bitter weeping, saying that never had I so deeply, so unforgivably wounded her. I was surprised at her susceptibility on this point, for it was long since she had deplored her eyes; she had come rather to regard them as an asset, which indeed they were.

“You know I love those eyes above everything,” I assured her. “The left one is a brilliant sapphire and the right a shining topaz. Why are you so irritable today?”

Stamping with rage she cried, “Fool! I know best what my eyes are worth. But I can’t forgive you for going behind my back and getting house and land from the Grand Vizier. The idea was mine from the beginning and you opposed it. I’ve already found a site and the needed building materials. I wanted to surprise you and show you what an exceptional wife you have. Now you’ve spoiled everything. Nothing you could have done could hurt me so deeply.”

In my tender mood I could well appreciate the bitterness of her disappointment. To the best of her feminine ability she had secured a home for us, though of course it could not be so fine and tasteful as the one I meant to build. I fell on my knees before her, begged forgiveness for my ill-considered behavior, thanked her for the sacrifices she had made, kissed her slender fingers, and assured her that I had thought only of our common good and had never meant to steal a march upon her.

“But,” I asked, “what is this place that you have chosen ? Above all, how could you find the money for it, for I know that nothing costs so much as building.”

“It’s an excellent site,” said Giulia, “and need not be paid for until some convenient moment. For the materials I was able to borrow money on remarkably good terms. The wives of certain wealthy Greeks and Jews desire my friendship because of my connection with the Seraglio, and their husbands have been generous with their advice and with the loan of money, with your salary as security. I hoped that the house might be ready by your return, when you could have accepted it as a present from me with nothing to do but pay for it.”

I was aghast, but she looked at me with such artless pleasure that I had not the heart to reproach her. She pressed her face against me and said with a sob, “I’m glad you’re home, though you startled me so badly. Now you can help me in all my perplexities and see to these everlasting accounts. The house would have been finished by now but for the labor of clearing the ground, for the site is on the Marmara shore near the Fort of the Seven Towers, among the ruins of the ancient Greek monastery. That was how the Greeks were able to sell it without asking leave of the Sultan. No one has ever built there before because of the cost of clearing the site, and that was how I was able to buy it so cheaply.”

I dimly remembered having seen that dreary field of ruins, haunted since the fall of Constantinople by stray dogs alone. Her senseless action set me trembling in every limb as I strove in vain to master my feelings. Giulia stared at me wide eyed. Her face took on a greenish pallor and suddenly she rose and vomited, while tears ran down her cheeks. Forgetting all else in my concern I took her gently by the shoulders and said anxiously, “My dearest! My own wife! My most precious treasure! What is it—what ails you? Is it fever, or have you eaten too rashly of salad or raw fruit?”

Giulia moaned, “Don’t look at me now, Michael, when I’m so ugly. Nothing ails me—perhaps the worry of the house has been too much—and then you looked so stern. Pay no heed. Tell me I’m an extravagant wife sent to you by God for your sins.”

I could only beg her forgiveness from the bottom of my heart. I bathed her forehead with cold wet cloths and gave her vinegar to inhale until the color returned to her cheeks. The best tonic, however, was my saddle bag, from which I now produced all the presents I had bought for her in Buda—necklaces, earrings, and a most beautiful Venetian mirror whose handle was formed by the consummate art of the silversmith into a likeness of Leda and the Swan. I was not so strict a Moslem as to shun representations of animals and men; and in any case Giulia was a Christian.

So at last we achieved perfect harmony, and Alberto hastily prepared for us a savory Italian meal. He served me attentively and showed me every mark of respect, but although in my present mood I desired to be in charity with all the world, some little thorn seemed to have lodged in my heart and I could not be reconciled to this man who hovered about us continually and with his queer, pale eyes noted every expression of my face. What vexed me most was Giulia’s invitation to him to sit with us on the floor and share our meal. Fortunately he had the grace to retire to a corner and content himself with what we left. When at last he took the plates away for the cats and the deaf-mute to lick clean I could remain silent no longer and announced with some heat that I did not care to dine with my slave, and in any case could not endure the way this repulsive man padded and slunk about me.

Giulia, deeply offended, said, “But Michael, he’s a Christian like myself. Would you deprive me of the pleasure of conversing now and then in my own language with a fellow countryman? You have your brother Andrew; you talk together in your mother tongue so that I can’t understand a word you say. Why grudge me this little consolation in my loneliness?”

I was moved by Giulia’s innocence of heart in this matter, when as a rule she was so shrewd and experienced. I said gently, “Dear Giulia, don’t misunderstand what I am going to say. Not in my wildest dreams could I ever suspect you of unfaithfulness. Yet as a husband I find it irksome in the extreme to share my house with a young man, and one whom simple-minded people might consider good looking. I know that I can trust you, but it’s my duty to safeguard your good name. I could endure him better if he were a eunuch—and indeed,” I went on, fired by the idea, “it’s not too late to make him one; he’s still fairly young. Though at one time I thought the risk of financial loss too great, because of the frequent fatality of the operation, I saw many in Buda—some of them older than Alberto—who were none the worse for it. Let us see to this immediately. Then neither I nor anyone else can have the least objection to his living in the house.”

Giulia gazed at me very searchingly as if wondering whether I were in earnest. Then a queer smile overspread her face and without a word she clapped her hands to summon Alberto. When he came she said to him, “Alberto, your master suspects that your presence here is harmful to my reputation and wishes to make a eunuch of you. He declares that the operation will not injure your health. What have you to say to this?”

Alberto’s dark face paled a little, perhaps, and he glanced at me as if judging the size of my neck. Then he turned to Giulia with an expressionless smile and answered meekly, “Madam, if I must choose between gelding and the galleys, you know what my answer will be. I don’t pretend to look forward to so disagreeable an ordeal, but my consolation is my utter indifference to women. My one desire is to devote my life to your service, and if I can please my master by submitting to this operation I will seek out a competent surgeon without delay.”

The noble candor o£ this speech made me ashamed of my meditated brutality. At the same time a great weight was lifted from my heart, for if he was indeed as indifferent to women as he averred I had nothing to fear on Giulia’s account. Giulia, narrowly watching my face, said, “Well, Michael, I hope you’re properly ashamed? Is a slave to teach you nobility of conduct? You see now that there are still unselfish and loyal people in the world, and that everyone is not as ill natured as yourself. Make a eunuch of him if you like, but if you do I will never set eyes upon you again, so despicable would you then appear to me.”

By this time I was feeling like some unnatural monster, but seeing my indecision Alberto fell on his knees before me in tears and cried, “No, no, my dear master! Don’t listen to her, but have me castrated at once, for I cannot bear your distrust. I swear I shall lose nothing by it; to me women are no more than sticks and stones. The good God has given me the heart of a eunuch, for all my beard.”

They worked on me together until to my own surprise I found myself begging Giulia not to treat this selfless man so harshly. She wept and agreed to let all be as before, provided I never mentioned the matter again or insulted her faithful servant with my base suspicions. She further reminded me that if the Sultan could eat with his slave, so could I, and that Alberto was no scullion but a major-domo, such as was found in the most distinguished Venetian families.

Though still reluctant, I was ready to agree to anything that might mollify Giulia. We went early to bed that night and she showed herself fully reconciled to me.

Of her doings in the Seraglio she would not speak. All in good time, she told me; for the moment I need know no more than that the Kisler-Aga was singularly well disposed toward her, and that she had received countless presents from the women of the harem and from her Greek and Jewish friends. I did not press her, or sadden her by remarking that most of the presents seemed to me worthless trash.

Early next morning a richly dressed eunuch arrived to take me to the Seraglio, where he bade me present myself to the Kislar-Aga. This fat, ruthless man, whose Negro blood gave his cheeks a gray tinge, received me most cordially and allowed me to help him to his feet, that he might accompany me to the Court of Bliss.

This unwonted civility greatly astonished me, but the whole Seraglio was in a sunny mood because of the Sultan’s return. Nowhere was a surly face to be seen. From the meanest slave to the highest official all were smiling—all dispensed blessings to right and left. I was showered with benedictions; my footsteps and my very toenails were blessed, and I was told that I was fairer than the moon, despite the scar left on my cheek by de Varga’s teeth, which had somewhat disfigured one corner of my mouth. The torrent carried me with it and I exerted myself to make ever more graceful replies, calling down blessings on the very shadows of those I met.

The Kislar-Aga told me that Sultana Khurrem had presented the Sultan with a daughter during his absence, in whose ear the name Mirmah had been whispered. She was fairer than the moon and the Kislar-Aga could not sufficiently praise the Sultana for bearing her lord a child each time he went to war, and being consequently ever merrier and more beautiful on his return than she had been at his departure. The Kislar-Aga was evidently satisfied that Sultana Khurrem still enjoyed the Sultan’s favor.

Engrossed in this animated conversation I had not time to look about me until the Kislar-Aga suddenly kicked the back of my knee as a hint to prostrate myself. We had come through the Court of Bliss into the Princes’ playroom, and to my amazement I found myself in the presence of Suleiman himself. With the Grand Vizier beside him as usual he was showing his sons how to work some toys of Nurnberg make, which he had brought home for them. There was a horse that moved its legs and drew a cart, a drummer that beat his drum, and many other marvelous things such as had been found in profusion in the nurseries of Buda Palace.

The boys knelt about him on the floor. Mustafa the eldest looked on in dignified silence; he was as dazzlingly beautiful as his mother—now fallen from favor—was said to be. The lively Muhammed shrieked with delight. Selim stretched out his hands for every toy, while nearest his father stood little Prince Jehangir. He rested his chin trustfully on Suleiman’s silken sleeve so that the hump, alas, showed all too plainly beneath the little kaftan. His dark eyes gazed at the gaily painted toys as if penetrating their vanity, as if in his heart, child though he was, he meditated upon the baffling mysteries of life and death.

When the Sultan saw me he dropped the toys, smiled for once without constraint, and said merrily, “Blessings on you, Michael el- Hakim, from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet! May every hair of your head and beard be blessed and may your wife bear you only sons. But in the name of Allah do not bless me in return, for I’ve weathered such a storm of benisons already that now as soon as anyone opens his mouth I begin to laugh. Pay no attention to me, for it is Prince Jehangir who wishes to receive you in a worthy manner.”

I rose to my knees to kiss Prince Jehangir’s thin hand. His sallow face flushed with joy and he stumbled excitedly over his words as he patted my cheeks and cried, “O Michael el-Hakim, Michael el- Hakim! I have a surprise for you—a bigger surprise than you can ever guess!”

This was enough to show me that at least no evil had befallen my dog, and I was now to learn that Rael had earned high regard and had founded a family. Prince Jehangir hurried me off to see three adorable black-and-white puppies lying with their mother in a kiosk that had been fitted out as a splendid kennel.

“Allah is Allah!” I cried, and the tears ran down my cheeks at Rael’s ecstatic welcome. “How has this come about?”

Prince Mustafa said to me in his grown-up fashion, “We didn’t know that breed of dog, and the kennel master despised Rael. But when I saw how faithfully he served my little brother I thought I would find out more about him. The Venetian envoy knew the breed and said that in spite of harsh treatment in the past, Rael had all the points of the best variety of Italian house dog. We bought a mate for him from the Duke of Mantua, and the result you may see in that basket. Tell me how Rael came into your possession and what his pedigree is, so that we can record it in our kennel book, with the names of the puppies.”

I was at a loss for what to say, for I had picked Rael up as a stray in the courtyard of Memmingen town hall. All I knew was that he was a good, pious dog that had resolutely endured the torture of the Holy Inquisition and been acquitted. I explained this to Prince Mustafa and told him how faithfully Rael had served me and how he had saved my life when I lay dying of the plague among the corpses in the streets of Rome.

The Sultan and his sons listened sympathetically to my story, and the Grand Vizier said thoughtfully, “Feel no concern about the dog’s pedigree, Prince Mustafa. He will begin one for himself. Perhaps there is greater honor in founding a noble line than in basing one’s position on old and tainted blood.”

At the time I paid no heed to Ibrahim’s words, but later I had reason to remember them, for they had acquired a terrible significance. And indeed no sooner were they spoken than he started, and passing his hand over his brow he smiled and said hastily, “Ah, Prince Jehangir, the audience is not ended. Remember that the son of the Sultan has the privilege of requiting gifts with even richer rewards.”

Prince Jehangir clapped his hands and a red-clad eunuch entered the room bearing a sealed leather purse which he handed to me, and which I judged to contain at least a hundred ducats. I offered Prince Jehangir my best thanks and we returned to the playroom. But my good fortune was not yet complete, for there the Sultan said to me, “My friend the Grand Vizier has spoken of you and I know you have exposed yourself to great danger in my service. For that very reason you were absent when I was dispensing rewards to my warriors outside Vienna, and so you missed your share. I must not insult my son Jehangir by giving you more than he did, so you shall claim an equal sum from the Defterdar. But with the Grand Vizier I can and should compete in generosity; tell me therefore what he has promised you!”

The day was indeed ruled by my lucky star. I glanced at the Grand Vizier and at his encouraging wink I prostrated myself and babbled eagerly some quite incomprehensible words. My behavior must have been most ridiculous, for the Sultan laughed till he cried. The Princes laughed too, and tried to mimic my stammering. Then Suleiman said, “I gather that the Grand Vizier has promised you many remarkable things, but try to speak a little more coherently.”

“A plot of land!” I gasped at length. “The Grand Vizier has promised me a little plot of land from his gardens on the Bosphorus, and a small house, for my dearest wish has ever been to serve you, O Commander of the Faithful, and after all my checkered years of wandering I long to find a home. The Grand Vizier has even promised to pay the costs of this from his own coffers.”

The Sultan laughed again and said, “And to vie with him I authorize you to take from the Seraglio storehouses such carpets, cushions, mattresses, cooking pots, dishes, and other furniture as you may need to put your house in a habitable condition. From the arsenal you may take a light rowing boat roofed at the stern, that you may be sheltered from sun and rain on your journeys to and from the Seraglio.”

But this day of marvels was not even yet at an end, for when I visited Defterdar Iskender to claim the extra purse, this noble gray-bearded tseleb bent a hostile look upon me and said sternly, “For some reason that passes my understanding you are climbing into high favor, Michael el-Hakim, and I feel it my duty to remind you of your position. As Defterdar I cannot permit any slave of the Sultan to get into debt, far less seek the aid of Greek and Jewish usurers. Why should I waste money thus, instead of allowing it to circulate freely within the Seraglio and at length return to the treasury? You should pay for your building works through me, Michael el-Hakim, for I would give you good terms. You treat me most unfairly by employing idolatrous riffraff for work which might otherwise bring into the treasury a portion at least of all that has been lavished upon you in gifts.”

Much disturbed, I stammered, “Noble Defterdar-tseleb, you are quite mistaken, for the work is to be carried out by Sinan the Builder and I have no intention of depriving the treasury of its dues. But my wife I regret to say is a Christian, and in my absence she was so foolish as to incur debts in my name. I fear she has fallen into the hands of rascally Greeks. To behead these men at once would be the simplest way of releasing me from the burden of debts, whose total I have not dared to ascertain.”

The Defterdar glanced at the roll in his hand, gritted his teeth, and hissed, “Your debts have reached the dizzy figure of eight hundred and fifty-three ducats, thirty aspers, and I cannot think how those shrewd Greeks dared give your wife so extensive a credit.”

I snatched the turban from my head and wept, saying, “Noble Defterdar, forgive me, and take these two purses in part payment. Be assured that I will live on bread and water and wear garments of sackcloth until I have discharged this terrible debt. You have my salary as guarantee.”

My sincere consternation moved the hardhearted Defterdar, and he said, “Let this be a warning to you. A slave cannot contract debts, for in the last resort the treasury must pay them and may have no other way of reimbursing itself than by making use of the silken noose. Nevertheless your lucky star has prevailed, for by order of Sultana Khurrem I have already discharged to the last asper the debts your wife so frivolously contracted. Be thankful, therefore, for your unmerited good fortune and in future keep your wife under better control.”

He gave me a list of the receipts, and as he did so he looked at me searchingly as if pondering what manner of man I was. He knew that thanks to the Grand Vizier my salary had been increased, and he must have wondered how at the same time my wife could be in favor with Ibrahim’s rival, the Sultana. It was evident that he himself belonged to the Sultana’s adherents, and of course I had every reason to be grateful for her generosity to my deluded wife. Yet I would not be so foolish as to modify my loyalty to the Grand Vizier on that account.

Hardly had I come home and begun to tell Giulia of these events than her face darkened and she asked sharply what I had to complain of, since the Sultana had been so bountiful as to discharge our debts. Any other man, she said, would have thanked and praised his wife for such skillful management, but from now on I might handle my own affairs and she would not lift a finger to help me. I said, “I ask no better. But now let us inspect your plot of land and consider the best way of getting rid of it.”

We hired a boat and glided first along the shore of the Bosphorus, past Galata and the dervish monastery. When we had gazed for some time at Grand Vizier Ibrahim’s beautiful gardens Giulia relapsed into a very thoughtful silence. We returned across the Golden Horn with its myriad shipping and on beyond the Seraglio until we could see the Palace of the Seven Towers before us. We went ashore below the ruins, and a steep goat track led us up through their desolation to a little herb garden and a quantity of water-logged timber. At the bottom of the hole that the workmen had dug for the foundations of Giulia’s house could be seen the broken arches of ancient brick vaults. The place was bleak, barren, and in every way uninviting for a human dwelling, though the view over the Marmara was very beautiful. As I stood silently pondering what was to be done, a most excellent idea came into my head and I said, “Now that Andy is married, Giulia, he is sure to need a house in Istanbul. Why should we not let him have this valuable land for a modest sum? He loves to work with stones and here he can do that to his heart’s content. I could make him comfortably drunk before I show him the property.”

For some reason I had not troubled to mention Andy’s wealth or to confess that it was to him I owed my well-filled purse and the presents I had bought her; she therefore observed scornfully that he could never afford it. My brilliant idea so carried me away that I told her of his good fortune and of his wife’s estates. Giulia stiffened and an ugly expression came over her face as she exclaimed, “O Michael, you blockhead! Why in God’s name did you not marry the girl yourself? As a Moslem you’re allowed as many as four wives. But it was like you to let the chance of a lifetime slip through your fingers for the sake of that oaf of a foster brother.”

In her fury she turned pale again with another attack of nausea, but when she had recovered I said soothingly, “Giulia, my dear one, how can you suppose I should ever think of any other wife but you?”

Giulia answered with a sob, “I could have brought up a callow girl like that in the best possible manner and treated her like a sister. Later when she had borne you a child, who knows but what she might have swallowed some unwholesome mushroom sauce, or fallen sick of the fever that’s so common in Istanbul? Stranger things have happened. We could then have inherited her property. I think only of your welfare, Michael, and would never stand in the way of your good fortune.”

I repented now more than ever of having so imperfectly appreciated the merits of the young Hungarian girl, but consoled myself with the thought of selling that useless land to Andy. On our way home Giulia stared at me repeatedly and shook her head as if bafHed by my irrational behavior.

When we were at home again and seated at our meal, Alberto’s hovering presence irritated me so much that I said angrily, “Last time I was in the Seraglio I hit upon an excellent plan to dispel all suspicions about Alberto and safeguard your reputation, Giulia. Tomorrow I shall buy him a eunuch’s dress which in future he must always wear. No one will ask awkward questions so long as he acts the part on his walks abroad.”

My sensible proposal appealed to neither of them; they exchanged glances that revealed their loathsome complicity and Giulia so far forgot herself as to say, “Why, eunuchs are beardless! Alberto’s beautiful curly beard makes such a disguise impossible.”

She stretched forth her hand with the freedom of ownership to feel his short beard, but I snatched back her hand and said, “He must shave it off—he must shave twice a day if need be—and he must eat rich food until his cheeks are plump and oily. Things cannot go on as they are.”

Despite vehement opposition I had my way in this matter and the weeping Alberto was compelled to shave off his beard and array himself in the yellow garments of a eunuch. For Giulia soon perceived the advantage of this arrangement—eunuchs fetched a far higher price than ordinary slaves, and she felt both wealthy and distinguished when she walked about the city with the seeming eunuch in attendance. I now did all I could to fatten him and at times made him eat a whole dish of greasy food, regardless of his cries for mercy. Soon I had the satisfaction of seeing his cheeks grow round and glossy and his empty Italian beauty fade into plumpness. The fatter he grew the better I liked him.

So our life came gradually to run in more peaceful channels, and not many weeks had passed before Giulia came to me, pressed her cheek to mine and murmured that I was soon to be a father. I marveled that she should have discovered this so soon, but she declared she was experienced in these matters; also she had had a dream in which she held my child in her arms. I both doubted and hoped, but soon my physician’s eye detected the outward signs of her condition.

Ineffable joy filled my heart; I no longer thought only of myself, for the expected increase in my family laid new responsibilities upon me and I dreamed ambitious dreams for my unborn son. Giulia showed me great fondness and I did all I could to avoid distressing her. So throughout that lovely spring we lived like a pair of turtle doves, building our nest.

I shall begin a new book to tell of my house and of my advancement in the Seraglio, of Grand Vizier Ibrahim’s statesmanship, and of Abu el-Kasim and Mustafa ben-Nakir, who had been so long absent from my sight.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11