"The page, and a Frank follower of Selem Gherrei," answered the Khan.

"Ah, I must see them immediately," exclaimed the General. "Khan, you have not fulfilled my expectations; but you shall be welcome. You and your followers shall be cared for here at present, until I can a.s.sign you lands in whatever part of the neighbouring country you may choose."

With a haughty salutation, and a discontented look, the Khan left the tent.

"Let that proud chief be well watched," continued the Baron, as he departed. "See, that none of his followers quit the camp. I do not trust him, even now. Had he brought off the chieftain's daughter, we should have had a hold upon him; but he may now again escape us.

Colonel Erintoff, you have lost your mistress."

"I owe the barbarian a grudge for the disappointment," answered the Count.

"You may soon have an opportunity of revenging yourself on him," said the Baron. "But, now to business. Let the prisoners be brought in, and I will see what I can make of them. Stay, and a.s.sist me."

In a few minutes, a file of soldiers conducted Javis and the young Conrin to the door of the tent, with their arms bound. The Baron ordered them to be brought in, when the soldiers retired. Javis looked round him with a firm and determined air, fearless of the presence in which he stood.

The poor page was wearied, and bruised with his rapid journey, and attempts at escape; but a fire glowed in his eyes, as he gazed at the Baron and the Count Erintoff, while a smile of scorn and defiance played round his lips.

"Stand forward, boy," said the Baron, addressing him sternly. "What induced you to leave your native land, and join the hordes of these barbarians?"

"My own good pleasure," answered Conrin.

"Know you not, mad boy, that, by so doing you have broken your allegiance to the Emperor, and are guilty of treason?" said the Baron.

"I owe allegiance to no man," returned Conrin, firmly and proudly. "I have full right to go where I will."

"You are a subject of the Emperor, boy; and as such, I find you living among his enemies," said the Baron. "Know you not, that I have power to treat you as a traitor?"

"I am a subject of no ruler under Heaven," answered the page; "but full well do I know your power."

"You speak foolishly; but I pity your youth, and would be lenient with you," answered the Baron.

"If you would be merciful, then," said Conrin, still with a curl on his lip, and in a slight tone of irony, "let me go free. I am but a youth, and what harm can I do to the mighty power of Russia?"

"What say you, Count, shall I let this innocent boy go free?" said the Baron, sneeringly. "Well you seem to agree with me! Now, listen, boy; you shall be at liberty to go where you will, even to return to the mountains, if you wish; but on one condition. You follow a master, it seems, who led you among those barbarous hordes of savages, for which you need owe him but little grat.i.tude, as he has been the means of placing you in your present danger. I will not conceal from you, that your master is an arch-villain and traitor to Russia; and that I am anxious to get him into my power. Now, boy, you may be instrumental in forwarding my views; and if you will undertake to obey my orders, you yourself shall not only be pardoned, but shall be richly rewarded. What say you to my proposition? Do you consent?"

It was difficult at first to determine what emotions filled the boy's heart, at hearing this proposition. The brightness of his eyes increased, and a bitter smile played over his features. For a minute he stood confronting the General, and appearing to seek for words to give expression to his feelings.

"Man," said he, "Commander of thousands! go seek, among the slaves who obey you, one who has betrayed his master, and send him to me, that I may learn a lesson from him, and know, in future, how to mark the features of a villain. Compare his with mine, and see if they are alike; and then say if I am likely to accept your n.o.ble offer, if such is to be the price of my liberty. It is useless speaking more."

"Boy, you are foolish," said the Baron, endeavouring to soften his rough voice to a tone of kindness, and to bend his features into a look of benignity. "What I ask of you, hundreds in like position would be found to do for slight reward. It is not a difficult task that I wish you to perform; and if you do it not, others will be found who will, and your master cannot escape me. All I desire of you is to entice this young Selem Gherrei near the fort, where I will place an ambush to capture him. Think you I would injure him? No!--it will be but for his own benefit, as it will rescue him from those barbarians, and restore him to civilised life. And for yourself, I promise you a rich reward. You may stay and join the army, or I will find you a safe conveyance to your own country and home. Think well upon the offer which I make you."

Young Conrin threw a look of scorn at the General, turning his eyes slowly towards the Count, and with almost a laugh of derision, he answered--

"A n.o.ble offer, truly; could you but read my heart, you would see how great is the chance that I should accept it. Think you that to gain wealth, all people would become villains? that all men have a price, to be bought and sold? I pity the wretch with such philosophy. None but those with bad hearts could think so. No, no; such base offers are thrown away if made to me. Give me but liberty, and I shall be grateful."

"Once again, boy, I make an offer such as is not my wont," said the Baron. "I know not how it is, but I feel compa.s.sion for your youth, and would not harm you if you would obey my wishes. You shall go free, free as the air we breathe; on this condition, you must persuade your master to come, and I will promise you he shall receive no harm; for, in spite of all his offences, I would wean him from the cause he advocates, and bring him over to the side of Russia."

"No!" answered the page firmly. "Were you to offer boundless riches, honours--such honours as you can bestow--were it even to place him on a throne propped up by tyranny, I would not draw him from the path of glory he follows now, fighting for his country's cause, though his home is but a humble cot on the mountain's side."

"But suppose, boy, I offer to gain for him rank and fortune, and to restore him to a civilised life far from these scenes of war and bloodshed. Will not that promise tempt you?"

The page seemed to penetrate to the inmost recess of the Baron's mind, so piercing a glance did he cast at him, as with scorn, still dwelling on his lip, he answered, "No; I have said before, my master values such things less, far less than honour. Did I think he would accept your offer--and well I know he will not--I could not trust you, General! You would impose upon my youth and innocence; but you are mistaken."

The Baron's brow grew dark as night; his voice almost trembled with rage as he became convinced that his attempts to persuade the youth to obey his wishes would be fruitless. "Hear me, mad boy!" he exclaimed. "You ask for liberty. Do you hope to gain it? Never! Obey my orders, or death and torture alone await you. You talk of leading a peaceful life; Count Erintoff, before whom you stand, observed you at the Mezi, following your master in the strife. Twice were you seen to slay the Emperor's soldiers; you fought in the ranks of the rebels. That is enough alone to condemn you to death as a traitor to Russia. Think not to escape by a specious tale of innocence, nor hope for pardon on account of your youth. You were old enough to wield your weapons well.

You will be condemned to die to-morrow."

"I have said before that I would not do the deed you ask; no, not for all the riches of the East," answered Conrin firmly. "And for my life, I do not value that so much but that I can laugh your threats to scorn.

Then do your worst upon me; I am prepared to meet your vengeance."

"Mad obstinate boy!" cried the Baron furiously, "your doom is sealed. I will examine the other prisoner. Remove the youth."

At these words Javis, who had stood with a stern glance regarding the Baron, sprang forward in spite of his fettered hands. "Stay, General,"

he cried earnestly; "you know not what you do. Be not thus cruel. This seeming page is--"

"Javis!" exclaimed Conrin, "speak not a word of me, I charge you. Swear to me that you will not, for I can soon escape their tyranny. I would die unknown to all, but to you, my true and faithful friend. As I have lived, I am prepared to die. Swear that you will not betray me to mortal soul;" he hesitated. "I command you swear, or, even now, as you well know, I have the means; you shall see me this moment die at your feet."

"I swear to obey your wishes; but oh, save yourself. A word would do it," cried Javis.

"Never! I fear not death half, half as much as life within the power of these men," exclaimed Conrin.

"Boy, I give you still another chance. Let not sleep o'ercome you till you have weighed the offer I have made, or it may prove your last," said the Baron, as Conrin was led off.

As may be supposed, the General could not elicit a word of information from Javis, who evaded every question which was asked of him, until the Baron grew furious. The same tempting offers were made to him as to Conrin, but he repelled them indignantly.

"I will not turn a traitor to my master," he said; "but I will serve you faithfully if you will save that boy's life; or if you will take mine, I will give it joyfully for his. You know not whom you kill."

"If you will obey my wishes," said the Baron, "not only will I pardon the boy, but I will load you with wealth, such as you never thought before to have."

"Oh mighty spirit of my fathers, guard my heart!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Javis.

"No, it cannot be; not all the offers that you make me can cause my purpose to alter. Yet you cannot be so base, so cruel a tyrant, as to slay that young and harmless boy."

"Slave, do you speak thus to me?" exclaimed the Baron. "Think you that you have any hopes of escaping death? If so, you are deceived. You, too, shall die. Think well upon my words, and mark me. The boy dies first while you are standing by. To the last moment, his life shall be in your hands. If you would save him, consent to obey my wishes. Ere mid-day comes to-morrow he shall die, and your death shall follow.

Think well on what I say. Obey me, or never hope again to see the sun go down. Lead him away," he cried to the guards without, "and keep him separate from the other prisoner. Well, Count," he said, turning to that officer, "how think you I have managed with these traitors?"

"Admirably, Baron," answered Count Erintoff. "Yet I never saw so much obstinacy displayed. I think you have worked upon them to comply with your wishes; and, by their aid, I still have hopes of capturing young Selem Gherrei."

"I know not," said the Baron; "there was a fierce stubborn look in that boy's eye I scarce could have expected from one so young; but perhaps the Gipsy, who seems to have a most romantic affection for him, may, for the sake of saving him, obey my wishes. But if he does not, I swear no power shall save them. To-morrow morning early, they must be tried: we know the verdict. Go, Count, and make arrangements for their trial. I would be alone."

We must hope, for the sake of human nature, that the General would, in his cooler moments, have altered the determination he had expressed; though the atrocious barbarities which that man was guilty of towards his Circa.s.sian prisoners, when any, faint or senseless from their wounds, fell into his hands, would repress any charitable construction of his motives, and ensure only our hatred.

Conrin was removed to a rough small hut of logs, which had lately been erected to serve the purpose of a prison; but it had, as yet, no occupants, owing to the constant employment of the soldiers which kept them from committing any faults. The ground was unbeaten, ends of branches projecting from the sides, and a log being left at one end to serve the purpose of a couch or seat for the prisoners; but as yet it was not even hewn smooth. Conrin was thrust in by his guards, and then left to his solitary meditations, with some black bread and almost stagnant water; not worse fare, perhaps, than the soldiers themselves were obliged to submit to. He threw himself on the rough log, deep sobs breaking at times from his breast; while, with hands clasped in agony, he turned his eyes towards Heaven, as if imploring aid.

"No! no! hopeless is my lot! I am forsaken by the mighty Spirit! and thus to die without the slightest chance of one fond look on him for whom I have sacrificed all on earth! Then the bitter anguish to feel he knows me not; or, if he knew, perchance would spurn my love. Death-- annihilation would be better far. No, he shall never learn the truth.

And yet I would that he should know how true and firm a heart mine was; and then, when I am reduced to the ashes from whence I sprung, perchance he would cast some fond regret upon my memory. Oh! did I think that he would love me, the very joy would make me laugh at death. But thus to die!" The sobs of the supposed page were renewed. He started, and strove to suppress his agitation, for he heard steps approaching.

It was now midnight--that time when the feelings are the acutest, the nerves most easily excited; when the thoughts strive to wander o'er the regions of boundless s.p.a.ce to search out things mysterious and inscrutable; when the spirit often seems to quit the bonds of this our living mortal frame, to visit ideal regions. It is not the spirits of the dead, which long have flown to other realms we wot not of, which mortals fancy oft they see, but their own yet earthly souls are worked into fever by some potent and subtle influence when the vivifying power of the sun has been withdrawn.

Conrin listened earnestly.

"Ah! well I know that foot-fall! Oh! mine enemy, hast thou found me?