neces- en 1 U at concealment beyond what was r yoke most rapidly. Neophytuste and sary for the recognition of the Heter-those who accompanied him for simiists, was alone amply sufficient to com- 90lar purposes to his own, had brought promise the Phanariotes. It was, in with them the news of a universal fact, his purpose so to inculpate them, rising throughout the whole of the and force them to appear as rebels in Morea, which had till now remained the eyes of the Turks, according to the passive; and what carried the rage command of the General Ipsilanti, and fury of the Turks to its height, who took this violent means to bring was the discovery, that very day, of a to a favourable decision the weaker conspiracy, badly organized and aborand more vacillating of his country- tive, it is true, but still a conspiracy men, whose long connexion with the formed in the very heart of the Ottomon Porte, and habitual indul- Phanar, to assassinate the Sultan, and gence in the enervating luxuries of arm the whole Hellenic population of oriental life, had indisposed to take an Constantinople. active part in the rebellion. But there were other reasons why the next few days were likely to be made terrible by the fate of the Phanariotes, of which the monk was fully aware. Sultan Mahmoud, who,notwithstanding the admiration which it is the fashion in Europe to bestow on his political talent at least, certainly carried a heart of stone within his bosom, if ever a man might be said to have done so, had found it a part of his crafty diplomacy, not as yet, in appearance, to withdraw his favour from the Greeks of the Phanar, many of whom held distinguished posts under his own government, in the hope that he might induce them ultimately to break faith with their country, and even perhaps aid himself in arresting the rapid progress of the measures now taken for her liberation. 3801 100 With this view the wily monarch so long held in violent bondage, ac- T Slow as they had been to take the alarm, the cowardly Moslems now fancied the empire itself in danger, and that there was no safety for themselves but in the instant removal of the Greek Rayahs from the city; in other words, their total destruction! Throughout the whole of this dreadful day of which we are speaking, rumours emanating from the councile of othe Divan, gave rise to the belief that some deadly measure was there being adopted, which should involve in its sweeping condemnation the whole of the defenceless inhabitants of the Phanar, consisting now principally of old men, women, and children, for we have seen that the young and strong had obeyed the call of an imperative duty elsewhere. But the prospect of the dark sentence, as yet unknown, which was about to be pronounced on the unfortunate Phanariotes, did not, meanwhile, prevent the janissaries from breaking into their houses, murdering the inmates, destroying their property, and carrying desolation and terror to the hearts of all survivors. The only families who, as yet, were left altogether unharmed, were those whose rank, wealth, and station, or other fatal advantages, reserved them for a more terrible doom. It is a lesson deeply inculcated on the Moslem people, to respect the especial prey of their rulers and the family of Prince Constantine C- was one of those they preserved to be the victims of a refinement of vengeance. The court-yard of the prince's villa, like most large buildings in eastern cities, was walled in by several small houses, inhabited principally by Greeks in a lower rank of life, and also by persons of other nations, who, like themselves, were excluded from the districts of the Moslem population. One of these little flat-roofed dwellings was inhabited by two individuals of a totally different stamp. Veli, the Armenian, who occupied the apartments on the ground floor, was ostensibly a shawl merchant, but he was possessed of an extraordinary degree of shrewdness and ability, which he did not fail to turn to account in many different ways. He acted as physician when occasion required, as public scrivener, as confidential messenger-a most important office in Turkey-as secret spy, and even at times as hired assassin. In appearance he was the most frightful little deformed monster that ever was seen, with a pair of twinkling, fox-like eyes, absolutely teeming with craftiness and cunning, just visible between his enormous yellow turban, and his bushy black beard. In mind, he was a singular combination of the greatest talent, joined to the most inordinate and overweening selfishness, which bore fruit, of course, in the insatiable desire of gain. Doubtless we have wonderful opportunity offered to us, in this pleasant world of ours, of judging to what an extent men will composedly carry that profound egotism, which is the root of all corruption in human nature, and renders it, in fact, the vile thing it is; but with Veli, the Armenian, the gain or gratification to himself was generally so frightfully disproportionate to the miseries he inflicted on others in the attainment of it, that in him this odious love of self certainly appeared in a most detestable point of view. All other qualities, even those essentially bad, seemed swallowed up in it; he never thought of revenging himself, nor would he have moved a step to inflict a needless injury on any one; but to many a luckless sultana did he administer a draught of poison, instead of a remedy, for the sake of the jewelled ring he drew steathily from her finger, as he felt her pulse, and said it had ceased to beat; and many an innocent man he betrayed to the death, for the privilege of stripping the corpse of its miserable garments. And with all this, the little bloodstained wretch would sit singing all day, with as merry a face and as cheerful a voice, as though he bore within his breast the lightest conscience and purest of hearts. Of course he was also endowed with a prodigious amount of wily cunning-it was quite a part of his self-seeking policy; and during the few days which had elapsed since he had removed to this apartment, he had been amply engaged in slyly exercising this amiable quality on all his new neighbours, and more especially on Jussuf, the Jew, who occupied the other half of the house. In the East, quite as much as in Europe, the wandering Hebrew race are considered as outcasts, and are treated with all that contumely and contempt, wherein they reap the bitter fruit of their forefathers' crime; but whereas in European countries, the qualities universally recognized to them of meanness, avarice, and cunning, would seem somewhat to justify this treatment, the Syrian Jews appear to be a totally different race, and, generally speaking, they bear a character which commands both respect and commisseration. Reserved and dignified, dwelling much among themselves, yet mild and gentle when forced into intercourse with others; given to deeds of charity, absorbed in the observance of their peculiar worship, they are ever characterized by a singular melancholy, which seems to darken the lives even of the youngest and most joyous among them. within sight even of the sacred mountains of their native land, their hearts are yet hardened to the truth; they wander blind and benighted, between their bitter regret for a departed glory, and their false delusive hope for that which delays its coming, and a deep shadow from both is cast upon their souls. Justice and rectitude are, for the most part, in all their dealings; and when seen in their private life, the Eastern Jews certainly form a very interesting portion of the race of Abraham. Alas! Jussuf, a young man whose noble and expressive countenance bore all the characteristics of his nation, had now dwelt for some time quite alone in his small apartments in this house, though it was well known that his means were amply sufficient to have afforded him a far more sumptuous dwelling. He was said to have great possessions in the mulberry groves and silk manufactories of lower Asia; and at Constantinople he had also acquired a great influence over the authorities in power other is current in -an invisible coin which more Turkey. Those who had any communication with him had reason to applaud his rigid truthfulness and high moral dignity of conduct; but he avoided as much as he could all acquaintance with any one, seldom went out, and passed much of his time on the terrace roof of his house, apparently engaged in astronomical observations. A few months before this period some trivial circumstance brought him into an intercourse with the C family, which had been renewed at intervals, with much esteem on their side; but since that period more than even a deep shade of melancholy seemed to overspread his mild and pleasing countenance, and his low voice had ever that peculiarly mournful tone, which tells of a spirit within to whom the world is sunless indeed. CHAPTER IV. THE VISIT OF THE JEW TO THE PEARL OF THE BOSPHORUS. On the morning of this fated day, Veli, the Armenian, was seated on a mat before his door, smoking his pipe, and looking as though his wicked little eyes would fain have pierced the stone walls of the Prince's dwelling, when a tall figure glided swiftly past him, and he saw Jussuf, drawing his dark mantle closely round him, pass into the street. "So," said Veli, "here is something new! out at daybreak! this must be looked to;" and he nodded several times in acquiescence to his own proposition, which he failed not to put in execution, for during the remainder of the day, he occupied himself entirely in watching the movements of his neighbour. Jussuf did, in fact, on this occasion, completely change his usual mode of life; he came in several times and again went out; tasted no food from morning to nightfall; and it was easy to see, in spite of his calm and quiet manner, that he was in extreme agitation. At last, late in the evening, he returned, and, having thrown off his long dark cloak, the Armenian saw him cross the court-yard, to the gate of the Prince's house, where, after a few minutes' parley with some one within, he was admitted. At this sight Veli hastily rose, and stealing stealthily and slyly in the track of the Jew, like a cat about to pounce on its prey, he speedily reached the door and crouched down behind the pillar at the side, so as to escape the observation of the vigilant Greek who acted as porter. The house stood within the garden, and this gate served as an entrance to both; through its open bars he could therefore distinguish all that passed within. Jussuf had advanced towards the outer staircase leading up to the terrace, on the lowest step of which was seated Theophani. The good old woman was evidently sadly dismayed at the terrible prospects now opening before herself and all she best loved on earth. She was rocking herself mournfully to and fro, and in the corner of the stair she had set up a little silver image of Saint Dimitri, to whom she was addressing a deprecating prayer in the most penitent manner. "Why will you not succour us, Aghios Dimitri?-why will you not succour us? So holy a saint to forget his true servant! did I not offer you four great candles last year, when I scarce had a para to buy me slippers? have you forgotten them,-those four great candles? Oh, Aghios Dimitri, hope of Theophani!" Her reproaches to the saint were abruptly cut short by the appearance of Jussuf; she started up, but seeing it was a friend, was about to recommence to him her lamentations on the state of matters, when he hastily interrupted her: "I entreat you, Theophani, let me have access to the Prince." "May I never see a good hour if I disturb him now! he has but just dropt asleep; may his dreams be happy! and, alas, he needs rest: this day and night be has broken no bread." "But the Pearl, the Cocona (or lady), Erotá," said Jussuf, hesitatingly, "could I not speak, with her?" "What is it you say to me! know you not that she is alone now? How could she receive a man? There she is all alone on the terrace, poor little angel, doubtless dimming her beautifu 2 is eyes with such bitter tears; och! dark my heart for my fair young Pearl!" "But hear me, Theophani," said Jussuf in a low voice, earnestly. "I must see her, indeed, if her father sleeps; the most frightful dangers are around them I come to warn them of the sentence which has been passed; they may yet have time to escape !" "Then go to her, in the name of all the saints," said the old woman, bursting into tears."Oh, my Pearl!-my beautiful Pearl, I know well that there are dangers round her I-save her, Jussuf." "I will save her; while I live, not a hair of her head shall be injured," said Jussuf, quietly, and yet so fervently, that old Theophani seized his hand, rapturously exclaiming, to "Good Jussuf, may your grandfather and grandmother be eternally blessed! but och! what do I say, you are a Jew they were Jews; it is a thousand pities but Saint Dimitri himself could not bring you to Paradise!" Jussuf did not wait to hear his condemnation, he had bounded up the stair to the terrace. Meanwhile Veli, the Armenian, had heard every word of this conversation; but it was just sufficient to whet his curiosity, and he was determined to gain further information. A large fig-tree grew at the corner of the terrace, one of whose long sweeping branches hung almost within his reach. With the agility of an ape, an animal which he greatly resembled, he made a spring at it and caught it with both hands; it scarce bent beneath his light weight, and he hung a few mi nutes suspended in the air-then_gathering himself up he crept on from branch to branch, till he could with ease have dropt on the terrace itself, and then ensconced himself beneath the thick foliage which completely concealed him in a position that enabled him both to see and hear perfectly all that passed; then, as he never failed at all times conscientiously to administer to the minor comforts of the idol of his worship, he composedly lighted the pipe which he had not laid aside, and sat smoking, with eyes and ears intent. The aged Prince slept as Theophani had said: as yet he had taken no rest, having passed the night and day in making arrangements in the event of his violent death or exile; and now, as soon as the Pearl had ascer tained that he had actually dropped into a profound slumber, she spread t her white veil lightly over his venera-ms ble head, to shade his eyes from the light, and stole out on the terrace to to breathe the soft air of the starlit night.sto She crept on with languid steps to lean on the balustrade where Anthy-ot mos and Riga had leant the night be fore, and looked down, as they had done, on the fair scene below. How to beautiful it was! the garden, with itsup musical fountains and its perfumedo bowers, sweeping down to the veryer edge of the water, till the long branches og of the feathery palm were kissed by s each undulating wave. The still deept waters of the Bosphorus revealing asd second heaven, scarce less full of lightwe and glory than that which they re-o flected, and far off the soft green of mountains of Asia seemed in the dimas tremulous light as though they floated to on the bosom of the waters, and withed a breath would be dispersed like the t shadowy landscape of a dream.des llet There is something peculiar in thei solemn calm of an Eastern night, which o is similar in its effects on the mind togui that produced by the aspect of another, yet sterner, repose. When the dead are vi stretched out before us in their sullens i majesty of rest, with their unweepinge eyes, and hearts that will not throb,az and hands that cannot tremble at the.d pressure of the friends they love, then eq for us the world and the lust thereofo seem to pass away before their time, and earth, with its hopes and fears, its joys and sorrows, recedes from our uprising soul, even as it diminishes coa beneath the flying feet of an angel messenger, and is lost, as a twinkling ins star, in the immensity of space; and ot this same deep thought of eternity re never fails to swallow up the finite creation to those who, in eastern lands, by night, look up to the intense, al-m most awful, purity of the lucid skies, where the great stars, with their t quivering beams, seem themselves to tremble in the presence of a glory un-ou revealed! The young girl, like a genus tle spirit, with her pure bright eyesthe soft balmy air, the fragrancebreathing flowers, all were in keeping with the scene; but the mild soothing thoughts, which should have been inspired by such a night, were re-placed for her by the darkest images of rapine and murder Inca ed at the intrusion; but she did not "My father," exclaimed Erotà, as "Alas! he will have no choice," said the Jew. go tabnuod bad out mortemmet "He will not leave it with his life, at least," she answered, wringing her hands in agony. "This is his post he has pledged his faith to our countrymen, to remain here, and supply them with the gold he has concealed for them. But I will fly to him; for, if he decide to die, I must die with him. And, friend, I thank you much for the service you have rendered to Hory, to listen to the echoes fate! lingering there of a voice that she must co hear no more But Erota, with a strong effort, recalled her soul from contemplations worse than vain, and forded it to overstep the boundaries of time and space, and enter on the realms of holy peace. That timid and fragile being could never have had strength for the life struggle, which, let men talk as they will of that of death, is infinitely more terrible she never could have borne that agony of parting that terror for the future had not her soul been begirt with that one invulnérable hope, against which the raging waves of life's tempestuous sea must ever beat and dash in vain. With the instinct natural to some minds she had built up her faith on all that is pure and primitive in the fundamental doctrines of the Greek Church, while she received no stain from her contact with the gross superstitions and abuses which veil its intrinsic purity, like a soiled and time-worn garment; and thus, in her dark hour of trial, she was animated by that living spirit of believing trust, which, when a weak and erring mortal lies prostrate, even as one dead beneath the weight of miseries past and to come, can enter into him like a new life, and cause him to tand upon his feet and endure unto he end. An Thequiet step of Jussuf, the Jew, aroused the Pearl from her absorbing thoughts. She turned round, surpris. eve found a s -900ATLATE Siff us le 9 ile otswol us. Alas! it may well be the last wee shall ever claim.' "Hear me one word," exclaimed theod Jew, as the young girl was bound-i ing from his side. Cocona, your fate is not in the hands of man; and none can for ever avert the evil day; but remember this, come what may, there is at least one life between you and the grave. Erotà turned upon him one long look of gratitude, which filled her deeply mournful eyes with a transitory light, and then bounded into the house, to acquaint her father with the tidings of their doom. |