Volume Three—Chapter Five.

Thaddeus Stanisloff was now perfectly happy. No longer did he hesitate to approach the anderoon, and no longer did Ina fear to meet him; her ear was ever intent to catch his approaching footstep, when, in spite of old Kahija’s frowns, she would start up, and hasten to the gate of the enclosure, for within those sacred precincts, no man dares venture to approach.

She did not, however, stop to analyse very clearly her own feelings; but they were so novel, so delightful, so pure, she could not help indulging in them. Thaddeus loved Ina, with the most ardent, tender attachment; and often did he anticipate a life of happiness, passed in her society, amidst the vales and mountains of Circassian when he would teach her the love, religion, and the customs of civilised Europe, and eagerly did she listen to these discourses of her gallant preserver.

Still they had not yet talked of love; yet, much did he long to speak in the language of confidence, unrestrained by the presence of the gentle Zara, or the young Conrin.

Early one morning, he met his mistress at the gate of the anderoon, fortunately before old Kahija had made her appearance; seizing the opportunity—

“Ina,” said he, “I have much of deep and earnest import to communicate; and I would not, that other ears than yours, should listen. Will you deign to meet me then, and hear my words, for here I cannot speak them? Ere the sun has set this evening, will you meet me, Ina, in the sacred grove, near the ruins, over whose shattered fragments the Cross still rears its head triumphant?”

“Stranger,” answered Ina, “you are my brother’s trusted friend. I know too from your brave and generous nature, that you would not seek aught from me, that is unbecoming a maiden’s modesty.”

“Believe me, you will do no wrong in trusting me. I’ll wait until you can steal from old Kahija’s vigilance. Your page can see you safe, and watch the while we speak, that none intrude. Do you consent, lady?”

“I will meet you, noble stranger,” answered Ina, with timidity, and blushing as she spoke. “I know that you will guard me from danger.”

“Thanks, Ina, thanks, for your confidence; my life shall answer for your safety!”

Thaddeus might, perhaps, at that time have found an opportunity of letting Ina fully understand his devoted love for her; when they were interrupted by the coming of the discreet old Kahija, who considered that the conversation had already endured beyond the bounds of decorum. He was most unwillingly, therefore, obliged to retire, and to pass away the hours in thinking of his mistress; until the old nurse should have gone to the Mosque for evening prayer, when Ina would meet him.

The spot Thaddeus had selected, was a beautiful grove situated a little way up the mountain side, which, from time immemorial, had been looked on with veneration, by the inhabitants; because there, according to tradition, their ancestors had formerly worshipped the Great Spirit, and his Son who once visited earth. In his wanderings, Thaddeus had discovered the ruins he mentioned, which were those of a church of considerable size, as appeared by the fragments, still remaining scattered here and there, among the herbage; but many years must have passed since it was reduced to its present state, from the large trees growing amidst the stones.

The foot of the cross itself, formed from two large blocks, had been deeply imbedded in a rock, projecting from the mountain’s side. Over the sacred emblem, the trees had formed a sheltering arbour, its existence there being a fit symbol of the Christian religion, standing on the rock amid the ruin and decay even of its own temples and rites.

To this spot resorted those, who would ask some special favour of the mighty spirit they worshipped; but, ignorant of him who had chosen it as his emblem, they would fall down in adoration before it; many believing that the spirit himself dwelt within it, and that the stone retained hidden virtues. It was also considered as a sanctuary, which none would dare to violate. Any one followed by his most deadly enemy, who could reach it, might cling to its support and there be safe from vengeance. Even those professing Islamism still held it in veneration. Chaplets of flowers, the votive offerings of the worshippers, were hung on the surrounding trees until they withered away.

Thaddeus eagerly hastened to the spot, long ere the time he might expect the coming of his mistress; but he wished to be alone in that sacred place to commune with himself, to dwell upon the anticipation of his bliss should his hopes of her answer be fulfilled. He wandered round the ruins of the once sacred pile; sometimes he feared she could not really love him, and a moment afterwards he felt confident of winning her. Then he threw himself beneath the shade of some tree, and anxiously watched the lengthening shadows; and next he would rise and hasten through the grove, towards the direction whence his mistress should come; but he saw her not. The sun had not yet sunk low enough in the heavens, and he regretted that he had not persuaded her to come at an earlier hour. He again returned, lest, perhaps, she might have passed some other way.

Inspired by the solemnity of the spot, he threw himself down before the cross, and offered up his thanksgiving to heaven for his own preservation, and his prayers for future blessings. Deeply absorbed in his devotions, he thought not of the lapse of time; and, as he rose and gazed eagerly around to see if Ina was near, the sun had reached the edge of the mountain, tinging its sides with a saffron hue, and throwing a deep shade at its base. The minutes now passed like hours; he feared something might have prevented her coming; some accident might have befallen her; he thought of the revenge of the Khan and trembled for her safety.

As despair was about taking possession of him, at length, his heart bounded as he caught sight of her, moving amid the trees like some benign spirit of the groves. At a little distance from her, followed Conrin, slowly and mournfully; who, on seeing Thaddeus, turned aside.

The young lover hastened forward to meet his mistress; he gently took her hand, which she did not withdraw, as he led her to a seat, formed of a broken architrave, beneath the cross. For some minutes neither spoke, as they sat gazing on the rich and smiling valley below them, which was clothed with a soft mellow light; a serene and solemn silence reigned over the whole scene. The lovers felt perfect happiness; they feared to speak, lest a word might break the soft enchantment.

Thaddeus turned to Ina, and, gazing on her eyes, so liquid and tender, yet so lustrous, he saw an expression there which gave him courage to speak. “Ina,” he said, “I came to this land a stranger among your people. All my hopes in life were blighted. I had been an imprisoned felon, condemned to death, every instant expecting to die by the hands of my comrades, but was rescued by your brother’s bravery. To him I owe all I now possess: I owe him my life, and—more far more than life—the happiness of seeing you. From the moment I saw you, I loved you; from that moment your image has never been absent from my thoughts. In the ardour of the chase, in the solitude of the night, I have thought alone of you; and oh! the rapture, when I found you were saved from the ruffian who would have torn you from me! Sweetest Ina, I love you!”

Ina gazed at him. A sweet smile irradiated her features; her eyes sparkled with animation.

“Is it possible?” she said, with an inquiring look. “That you, Thaddeus, accustomed to the magnificence of the cities, and the accomplished beauties of Frangistan, can think of a mountain maid like me, who has never passed her native shores? Perhaps, you spoke but in sport; but no, you would not tamper thus with my heart.”

“Ina, could words alone convince you how ardently I love you, I would speak them,” answered Thaddeus; “but no language has fitting words to express my feelings. I would die to save you from harm. Dearest Ina, can you love me?”

“Love you? Blessed joy! oh yes! Perhaps, I do not love you as I ought; still I would not that any arm but yours should have saved me from him that would have torn me from you. Do you think I love you now?”

“Yes, dearest,” said her lover, folding her in his arms as her head sank upon his neck. “Yes, Ina, by yonder cross I swear to guard you with my life; to love no other but you.”

“Indeed ’tis bliss to hear you speak such words,” answered the maid. “A short time ago I thought I loved but one—my honoured father; and then, my brother coming, shared my love; but now I feel my heart too small to hold the love I bear for you. The feelings which I bear for those dear ones I would tell to all the world; but what I feel for you is a treasured secret I would tell to none but you.”

“Ina, you are my own,” exclaimed Thaddeus. “Oh never deem that I could share my love for you with any other: the very thought were sacrilege. How ardently have I longed before to say this to you—to learn from your own sweet lips, if you could feel the same for me! But still I feared that I could not be worthy of such love as yours.”

We must no longer attempt to describe the words with which the young Pole told the deep feelings of his heart to the pure and gentle Ina. Side by side they sat, nor thought how fast the hours sped. The sun had long gone down, the stars came out glittering in the dark clear blue sky, and the moon arose in pure and tranquil majesty to witness their guiltless love, throwing her silvery beams through the dark trees of the grove. Yet still they lingered, pouring into each other’s ears the words of soft endearment.

At length they rose from the spot hallowed for ever in their memory, when a gentle step approached, and young Conrin stood before them. Ina thought she heard a sob. He spoke at last in low and hurried tones—

“I came to warn you that night approaches,” he said. “You’ll be sought for anxiously in the hamlet, and great alarm will be felt when you are missed.”

“Ah, is it indeed so late?” said Ina. “I thought we had passed but a few minutes here. We will hasten home.”

“I will guard you to your home, dear Ina!” said Thaddeus, as he supported her steps.

Though both knew that they ought to hasten, yet neither felt any inclination to quicken their pace, as they passed through the sacred grove, and chose, they knew it not, the longest road to the village. They had yet much to say, when they found themselves at the gate of the anderoon. Young Conrin followed slowly, and again they heard that half-stifled sob; but he sought to avoid their observation.

They stopped at the gate to whisper many more endearing words; and perhaps they might have spent another hour, fancying it but a minute, had they not been startled by the harsh sounds of Kahija’s voice, who had bustled out in no sweet temper at the long absence of her young charge.

“Truly, these are pretty doings for a maiden, to be staying from home at this late hour. What would have been said, had any of the inmates of old Mustapha’s harem, at Stamboul, taken it into their silly heads to wander about in this way? They would soon have found themselves at the bottom of the Bosphorus, I warrant. That is the way young ladies are treated, who misbehave themselves in the only civilised country in the world—and a very proper way too. A pretty example you set my young lady, Zara. I suppose that she, who has always been so correct—thanks to my instructions—will take it into her head next, to go gadding about in the same way. But, I’ll take care she does no such thing I’ll promise her. I hope to see the free manners of the girls, of this country, reformed before I die. It’s quite dreadful, scandalous, to see them wandering about in this independent manner, with their veils thrown off their faces to let everybody stare at them who likes. Come, Sir,” she said, turning to Thaddeus; “I wonder you stay here. I thought you knew that the anderoon was forbidden ground to any man but my lord. I should think you had enough of my lady’s company already.”

But Thaddeus felt no inclination to move without speaking a word more of farewell; and old Kahija, having vented some of her wrath; and not being, in reality, ill-natured; saw it was useless opposing an affair, which was, indeed, no business of hers. She therefore turned away for a few minutes, during which time Thaddeus snatched a parting embrace from his mistress, drawing a promise from her to meet him again on the next day.

When the old nurse returned, the intruder, much to her satisfaction, was gone. Ina then entered the anderoon, when Zara, throwing aside the embroidery she was engaged on, sprang forward to meet her.

“Dear Ina,” she exclaimed, “I feared some other danger had befallen you, that you returned not before.”

“No danger could happen to me where I went,” answered Ina; “I was safe from every harm. So lovely an evening to wander out!” she added, with a little pardonable deceit. “I wonder you can bear to be so shut up.”

“I, too, should like to wander out to breathe the air of evening,” answered Zara; “but old Kahija will not hear of it.”

“What is that you say?” said the old nurse entering. “What! are you trying to teach Zara to follow your own wild customs? But you will not succeed; she is too good a girl to wish to do any thing of the sort. When she marries young Alp Beg, she may do what she can; but she will be shut up close enough then; and so will you, Ina, if you marry a true believer, instead of one of these heathen countrymen of ours.”

Happy were the slumbers of Ina that night as she laid her face upon her pillow. She dreamed that again she trod the sacred grove with him she loved—that again she heard his voice speaking those magic words which changed her very being—she felt the pressure of his hand in hers—and she saw the moon rise amidst the trees, the witness of their love.