Even now I feel his baneful influence, like that dark spirit who roves about to seek for prey. The bigot fools need not have decked him with other attributes than those of mortal man, when foul pa.s.sions gain the mastery over him."

"Who goes there?" shouted the sentry at the door of the hut.

"Your Colonel," answered the deep tones of Count Erintoff's voice.

"Stand there, and turn not till I call you."

After which words, Conrin heard the door of his prison open, and, by the light which faintly streamed in, he beheld the tall form of the Count, who, closing the door, placed a lanthorn he carried in his hand on the ground, so as to throw its rays on the features of the prisoner. The page rose not, spoke not, but remained in the att.i.tude in which he had been sitting, with his hands clasped together, and his head bent down.

The visitor surveyed him earnestly ere he addressed him, meditating apparently on what he should say.

"I am come to give you liberty and life, instead of the death you so madly seem to seek. Think you I know you not? When yon dull sottish bear, the General, was questioning you, I knew you by the glance of those expressive features, that haughty brow, that lip curling in proud disdain. Think you a boy would have stood undaunted before the furious rage of yonder overbearing Baron, or would have returned him word for word and glance for glance? You played your part but ill just now, whatever you may have done before to deceive (if so you have) the youth you followed to Circa.s.sia. Can he be so dull, so hard of heart, as not to recognise the maid who loves him? By Heavens, I do believe his wits so dull, his heart so careless of those charms which drove me near distracted at their loss, that he has not yet discovered you; and loves you not, basking, as you humbly look on in the senile character of a page, in the bright smiles of some of those mountain beauties."

With an hysterical cry, the girl, finding further disguise was useless, exclaimed--

"Begone, base villain. What demon prompts you to come hither to torment me?"

"Nay, nay, my pretty page," said the Count, approaching her, "I would not wound your feelings for the universe. I merely spoke what I know to be most true. I ask you why, for one who loves you not, you would sacrifice your life, and throw away all the bright offers that I have made you, and which I would fulfil? Oh! it would be a cruel thing to let those charms, which have enchained my heart, mingle with the dust, to leave this bright and joyous world so full of pleasures, (to those who have the sense to find them) to go you know not where. I do not ask you to betray the man you loved. I am not fool enough to think you would do so, until you should be convinced that he despises you; though I believe that haughty rebel, young Selem Gherrei, as he is called, cares not for you. But fly hence with me, and I can easily deceive this brutish General. I offer you wealth and happiness, a bright and glorious future, where such charms as yours will far eclipse the proudest beauties of the capital. Believe me, I am not so dull a fool as not to appreciate that bright and soaring spirit--that proud undaunted soul--which raises you above your s.e.x. I am not scrupulous as fools would be. I love you more myself, now that I know your heart is capable of so much feeling; and I would make it all my own. Then come, loved girl. This instant you shall be free. A few days more will see you on your road to Russia, where wealth, luxury, and happiness, await you."

The Count approached yet nearer, and attempted to take the girl's hand.

"Man!" she exclaimed--"if you are not rather the incarnation of the evil one, begone. Come not to torment my heart, already almost broken.

Know, then, that luxury and wealth are things I despise almost as much as him who offers them; and as for happiness, I never in this world shall know it again, nor have you the power to give it me. Begone, and leave me to myself. You stir not. Then if you will not obey my commands, but still have a soul that can be influenced by prayer, oh!

hear my earnest supplication, and leave me to myself."

"What madness makes you utter words like these?" said the Count. "Think well of what you throw away, and of the dark fate which awaits you. The Baron vows--and well I know he keeps his oaths when prompted by cruelty and revenge--that you must die to-morrow; and no mortal power but mine can save you. A word from me would rescue you. Fly with me. Ah! If you refuse, think not the man you love will benefit by your sacrifice; for here I swear that I will pursue him with the utmost rancour to avenge your death, of which he has been the cause. He has crossed my path before, and ere long I trust to see him in my power."

"You move me not by fear of any harm you can do him," answered the girl calmly. "He is above your malice, and would despise your vows of vengeance."

"If not for his sake then, save yourself for your own," exclaimed the Count. "Think how you will die, disgraced, unknown till after you have ceased to breathe; and then you will be a thing for savage soldiers to pa.s.s their brutal jest upon. Oh, why this madness? Let me save you from yourself, and fly with me."

The proud Count knelt at her feet, and again endeavoured to take her hand. "See," he exclaimed, "I kneel to you to beseech that you will let me save you from cruel death and contumely."

The girl then shrinking back, "Begone, I say, again," she cried.

"Believe me, I despise you far too much even to seek your pity."

The Count sprang to his feet. "Know then, wilful girl," he exclaimed, "that nothing shall save you. Your cruelty will change my love to hate; and though I still might save your life, I shall not rest until I see you die. None shall know that Count Erintoff has humbled himself in vain. There are yet some hours to dawn. Think on my vows, and promise to obey my wishes. A word of yours would win my love again; else, before the sun mounts highest in the sky, you will have become a cold and senseless clod. I leave you now."

The girl answered not, but looked disdainfully on the Count as he retired. Then, sinking on the hard log, she placed her hands before her eyes--to shut out something dreadful from her sight. A terrific struggle seemed to take place in that tender, that loving, bosom, as if the agitated spirit were about to burst its tabernacle; but it pa.s.sed, and she was calm--so calm that it seemed she slept.

Volume 3, Chapter X.

The morning came, the glorious sun rose undimmed by clouds, and nature wore a face of gladness; the birds sung sweetly from their leafy coverts, the refreshing dew which sprinkled the herbage, and the autumnal-tinted leaves, sparkled brightly. A light mist, rising from the lowlands, faded away, and left the landscape more clear and lovely from the contrast.

The prisoners were led forth from their places of confinement. Their trial commenced. Undauntedly they stood before all the highest officers of the garrison.

Several soldiers declared that they had seen them fighting on the side of the enemy. Neither of the prisoners would answer a word to the interrogations made to them. Their sentence was pa.s.sed. Death was recorded. Their guilt was clear, nor did they deign to sue for pardon.

As their sentence was p.r.o.nounced, Javis sprang forward with an imploring look towards the president, and was again about to utter some exclamation; but a glance from the supposed page stopped him, and, dejectedly he stepped back, turning a troubled and anxious eye towards his companion, though he seemed perfectly resigned to his own fate. The Baron hurried over the proceedings with brutal haste; and the prisoners were ordered forthwith to be led from the camp and shot as traitors to Russia.

They were conducted from the tent where the court martial was held, between a file of soldiers, walking as firmly and composed as if they had forgotten that a few minutes more were to be their last.

The fort, as we have before said, was erected on some elevated ground, at a short distance from the mountains, rising like an island from the plains and marshes of the Kouban. The intervening s.p.a.ce between the fort and the mountain, was one uninterrupted meadow, unbroken by rocks or inclosures. The spot selected for the cruel execution, was on a green slope reaching from the entrenchments to the plain facing the mountains; and here a body of the troops were now drawn up while the remainder continued at their labours digging the entrenchments, and erecting the requisite buildings for barracks and store houses, in preparation for the coming winter.

At a short distance from the fort, a foraging party in compact order, accompanied by artillery and cavalry were seen marching along the plain, from the direction of the Kouban, unaware of the execution about to take place.

The Baron had sternly commanded the Count Erintoff to lead the troops destined for the execution, though it seemed that he would willingly have escaped the office; but he was compelled to obey: and he now stood at the head of his regiment, drawn up in line on the green slope we have described, the firing party a little in advance of the other troops.

The General himself stood at some distance on the newly raised embankments of the fort, pacing to and fro, with a dark frown on his brow, and his eyes glancing restlessly around. As the young prisoners were led out from the fort, they pa.s.sed the spot where he stood. He commanded the party who guarded them to halt, and bring them before him.

The disguised page wore the same stern look as on the previous day; but a brighter almost supernatural foe burned in her eye as she met that of the General. Javis advanced boldly with a firm tread and perfect composure; but as he turned his looks towards his companion, his features would become convulsed as if some pang of agony pa.s.sed through his frame.

"Prisoners," said the Baron, "you have but a few short moments to live; but, even now, I give you a chance of escape. Obey my orders, and I promise to pardon you. To you, boy, I speak first. Will you do as I wish?"

"Never!" answered the page in a deep firm voice. "I am prepared to die."

"Then lead him on," cried the Baron furiously. "You, perchance, may have more wisdom," he continued, addressing Javis, "than yonder obstinate boy, who brings his own fate on himself. Will you save, not only your own life, but his?"

"I would save his life on any terms," exclaimed Javis; "but he would be the first to blame me. For my own, I value it not. But, Oh! spare him, General, spare him for his youth alone. Ask him not to do that to which he cannot consent. You know not what you do in slaying him. Spare him, as you hope for mercy!"

"Lead off the audacious rebel," cried the Baron furiously. "Let the boy be shot first," he added, addressing an officer who waited his commands.

"I can gain nought from him; and let his companion witness his fate: perchance it will bring him to reason."

There was not an officer in the camp who would not, if he could, have saved the lives of those youths at this moment; but none dared speak; even the dull soldiers felt tears spring to their eyes. The wild Khan, who was on horseback in company with a troop of cavalry, looked on with astonishment; and, as he witnessed the n.o.ble bearing and bravery of the prisoners, even he repented that he had brought this untimely fate upon them, until he remembered that it was by the hand of one of them that his brother fell. But of all the party the Count Erintoff seemed the most affected. His countenance was as pale as death; he dared not turn his eye towards the prisoners. He felt himself to be a wretch cursed by heaven; a cold-blooded murderer, instigated by the basest, the blackest revenge. The prisoners had reached the fatal spot, and the youngest was placed upon the ground, while Javis was led aside: they exchanged glances, but neither spoke. The supposed page heaved a deep-drawn sigh as she saw the glance of agony which the faithful Javis--of whose death she was too truly the cause--cast towards her.

A soldier advanced to bind her eyes.

"No," she cried, putting the handkerchief aside. "I would look my last upon the bright blue heavens, to which my spirit so soon must fly. I can face death as fearlessly as the oldest-soldier present. Let my eyes at least be at liberty, to the last."

The soldier looked towards his officer, who ordered him to follow the prisoner's wishes, and he returned to the ranks.

All was prepared. The girl stood undaunted; but her eyes wandered towards the mountains with an anxious glance. What does she see there?

Is it the sun which sparkles on the shining leaves of the forest? She stands entranced, regardless of her executioners; for a band of steel-clad warriors, their swords flashing in the sun like a foaming torrent, sweep downward from the mountain's brow. The wood is full of them. On every side they pour forth from amid the trees. At their head rides one urging on his steed at its utmost speed, and waving aloft his sabre. The eye of love distinguishes him from afar, before the Russians, intent on the scene of execution, have perceived their danger.

The prisoner uttered a cry of joy. "Thank thee, Great Spirit, that I see that loved one ere I die!" she exclaimed. "Yes! yes! I'll join you, in spite of these tyrants!"

Forgetful of her situation, forgetful of all but that he whom she loved was approaching to her rescue, she lifted up her arms to rush to meet him. It was the signal of her death; and Javis, breaking from his guards, sprang forward and threw himself before her.

At that moment the foraging party reached the fort, when a soldier rushed forward from the ranks to where the Baron stood.

"Hold! hold!" he cried with fierce excitement. "Stay the execution.

Barbarous chief! you know not what you do! Stay, or you will murder your own daughter, who was carried off from you by the dwarf Ladislau; she was placed in my hands for her mother's sake, a daughter of my tribe. Know me as the Gipsy Conrad."

The Baron seemed as one who heard him not; he was astounded, and gazed wildly at the speaker. His faculties were paralysed; his limbs trembled. The precious moments flew by. He lifted his arm.

"Stay the execution!" he shrieked. But ere the words were uttered, the rattle of musketry was heard. The smoke hung like a funeral pall over the spot, as, rushing towards it, the fierce Baron fell senseless near the slaughtered form of his daughter, the Gipsy girl, Azila; and by her side lay the body of her humble, devoted, and despised lover, Javis.

The alarm was given that the enemy were upon them. There was no time to retreat to their entrenchments. Fast and furious came the mountain hors.e.m.e.n. The drums beat to arms, the soldiers rushed to man the guns, and to seize their weapons. The troops drawn up outside wheeled to receive the shock from the furious charge of the foe, the cavalry advanced to meet them; but they were like reeds bent beneath the tiger's spring. Men and horses trembled at the wild war shriek. None could withstand that desperate onset; and the first, the foremost who fell, was the traitor Khan, cut down by the sword of Thaddeus.

"A well-timed blow, brave Pole," cried the Hadji, as he swept by to charge the Russians. "Thus die all traitors to Circa.s.sia!"

Close to him was Selem, encountering the sword of Count Erintoff, who shouted, "Ah! we have met at length? Traitor to Russia, yield!"