Volume Two—Chapter Sixteen.

We must now relate several circumstances, which had occurred while Thaddeus was being transported from Ghelendjik to the fort in which we left him. The words addressed to his servant by Javis, when he visited the fort in disguise, had sunk deep into the man’s mind. His imagination had been excited by the picture placed before him of rural happiness, contrasted so greatly with the wretched life he led in the camp. Like his master, he too was a Pole; though not like him, impeded by any scruples from deserting. Having heard that his former friend was among the Circassians, he determined to fly to him for protection, and to urge him to find some means of rescuing the prisoner; for it was well-known in the fort whither Thaddeus was to be conveyed.

That night, being on the outer guard, he threw aside his musket and cloak, and hastily sought his way to the mountains, among which he was soon seized by some of the many watchful guards placed there.

The Hadji was seated in the guest-house with Ivan, earnestly discussing various plans for driving their foes from their shores, when their host arrived with a prisoner. No sooner did the captive soldier hear Ivan speak to him, than he shouted with joy, and ran to throw himself at his feet.

“Oh, Sir,” he cried, “it was to find you that I escaped from the fortress. My poor master, Lieutenant Stanisloff, has been seized, by the Governor’s orders, because it is said he went out to meet you, and he is now going to be shot; but every body loved him so much in the camp, that the Governor is afraid to have him executed there, lest there should be a mutiny, for which many are fully ready; and he has consequently sent him to a fort a short distance to the north. It is said not to be a very strong place, so you may probably rescue him, if you take it in time. I thought this would be the only chance of saving my poor master’s life; and being very wretched at the fort myself, I ran off to tell you all about it.”

“My friend, I am deeply indebted to you,” answered Ivan; and he then explained the man’s story to the assembled chiefs.

“Bismillah!” exclaimed the Hadji, jumping up. “The very thing for us! We will set forth without delay; and, by the blessing of Allah, we will take that cursed fort before the sun has risen in the heavens.”

“Thanks, my noble father, for your promptitude,” cried Ivan. “No other leader would I rather follow in rescuing my friend. I doubt not of success.”

“Stay!” said the Hadji’s more cautious brother, Achmet Beg. “We must consider the subject. We have scarce men enough for the enterprise, and look at the sky. The light wind that blows comes direct from the place: the vessel will take some time to reach it, and if we arrive before it, our object would be lost.”

“True,” answered Ivan; “you speak well. In my eagerness to rescue my friend, I overlooked that point.”

“And I too!” added the Hadji. “Mashallah! when there’s fighting in the case, I am as forgetful of every thing else as the wildest Dehli Khan among them.”

“Then,” said Achmet Beg, “I propose that we send forward some trusty scouts to watch the vessel along the coast, and give notice when she arrives in the harbour. In the mean time, we will collect as many warriors as possible for the enterprise. What say you, Uzdens?”

“The advice is good,” said Arslan Gherrei. “And I will gladly lead my few remaining followers to the assault.”

“Well, then, that point is settled,” cried the eager Hadji; and turning to their host: “Now, Uzden, will you send out some of your trusty followers to fasten along the coast to watch the vessel? And you, my brother, despatch some of yours to summon all the warriors they can collect in the neighbourhood. There is no time to be lost on an occasion of this sort.”

The host hastened to fulfil his part of the arrangement, as did Achmet Beg also.

Far and near the messengers hastened, in every direction, on their fleet steeds, giving the word at every hamlet and mountain cot. The news flew like lightning, that Hadji Guz Beg had returned from abroad, and had lost no time in keeping up his old reputation by leading an expedition against the enemy. Wherever the messengers passed, the young men seized their weapons, either rifles or bows, from the walls, girding their swords to their sides, filling their wallets with meal for their provision, and throwing their cloaks over their backs. Thus, fully equipped at a moment’s notice, they hastened to the appointed rendezvous. None knew for what exact object the expedition was intended; but it was enough to know, that it was against the detested Urus, and that the renowned Guz Beg was to be the leader.

Those nearest to the spot repaired to one of the points of rendezvous fixed on in a deep valley, about two miles distant from the fort to be attacked.

Before the sun had attained its greatest height in the heavens, on the following morning, the Hadji found full six hundred fighting men assembled under his standard. Many were chiefs themselves of note, attracted by the prospect of renown to be gained under the well-known guidance of so brave a leader. They came clothed in mail, and attended by a retinue of horsemen. Others were sturdy yeomen of good repute in arms, also on horseback, (with their serfs on foot) anxious to vie with the knights themselves in gallant deeds. Some were independent freemen, coming from their solitary mountain homes, acknowledging no specific leader, each man fighting for himself, as his inclinations prompted him: these were armed with rifle, sword and dagger. Whatever was their rank or calling, they were all animated with one feeling—the deepest hatred of the common foe.

While they were preparing to march, a loud shout among the multitude proclaimed a new arrival; and dashing among the trees, a noble young cavalier appeared, attended by a band of horsemen of his own age. The youth rode forward, as room was made for him; and leaping from his horse, he threw himself at the Hadji’s feet.

“My son! my son! joy of my heart!” exclaimed the Hadji, folding the slight form of the youth in his gauntleted arms. “Welcome, thrice welcome, are you to me at this moment! Alp, my son, you have not disappointed my hopes; and may you prove yourself as gallant a warrior as your appearance would promise!”

Then, as if ashamed of giving vent to his feelings before the assembled warriors, though still holding the young man’s hand, and gazing fondly at him, he added—

“Alp, you have now become a warrior, and these are no times for rest. Prove, then, to your countrymen, that you are equal to the bravest.”

“I have but to follow your steps, my father, and I fear not that I shall gain renown.”

“Now, my friends,” cried the Hadji, tearing himself from his son’s side; “let all men on foot advance, under the guidance of the Uzden Achmet Beg. The cavaliers will quickly follow.”

Under shelter of the trees, the maidens of the hamlet had assembled to witness the departure of the warriors, and to encourage them with their prayers. Among them was the lovely Ina; her bright eyes regarding not the youthful cavaliers who careered before her, to win her smiles, but following her father’s lofty crest as he moved about the field.

As he caught sight of his daughter among the women, Arslan Gherrei sought Ivan’s side.

“Young warrior stranger,” he said, “I have myself endeavoured to thank you for your timely rescue, when so hard set by our foes: but my daughter would do so likewise.”

Saying which, he conducted Ivan to the side of Ina; and while they were speaking, he himself stood for some time entranced, gazing on them earnestly.

“I would thank you, noble stranger,” said Ina, in a faltering voice, “for the inestimable blessing you afforded me in saving my noble father from the hands of his foes. To your bravery, I owe also my own safety, when I was near falling into the power of our invaders. I can only repay you with prayers to heaven for your safety; these shall be offered up to Allah.”

“Lady,” answered Ivan, “prayers from those sweet lips will add courage to my heart; but I pray you, do not think any gratitude is due to me. I was but fulfilling a vow I have made to heaven, to strike our foes wherever I can meet them; and I am yet unworthy to be ranked among the warriors of Attèghèi.”

“O yes, surely you are well worthy to be called one of the bravest,” answered Ina; “for who could have fought more nobly than you did?”

“No, lady, I cannot yet claim that honour; but your prayers will nerve my arm to gain it,” answered our hero. “I must now away; for, see, the knights are mounting their steeds. Lady, farewell!”

“Farewell!” answered Ina. “And may heaven prosper you and shield you from danger.”

“And may Allah, too, protect my child,” added her father, rousing himself from his trance. “I was thinking, my Ina, how great a blessing would be such a son as yonder gallant youth; but Allah’s will be done! I, too, must hasten to lead my followers. Farewell, my child.”

Leaping on his charger, the chieftain galloped to join the cavalcade, while his daughter gazed on him with a fond and anxious glance.

As Ivan hastened to mount his steed, Conrin, who had been watching him anxiously at a distance while conversing with Ina, came forward. A blush was on the boy’s brow, as if he had been discovered in a fault; and there was an uneasy look in his eye.

“Ah, my faithful Conrin,” said Ivan, “I must leave you here for a time; you are too young to go on so hazardous an expedition. I must not again expose your life to the dangers of such fierce warfare.”

“Oh! do not despise my services, Sir,” said the boy, with an imploring look. “Have I been backward at any time in obeying you? Have I done anything to displease you, that you would now leave me among strangers while you are exposed to peril? Did I show fear when you attacked the Cossack cavalry?”

“No, boy, you did not indeed,” answered Ivan, with energy. “That day I owed my life to you; and I should be ungrateful did I not endeavour to protect your’s; for that reason, I would leave you in safety here.”

“But I care not for my life when your’s is perilled,” answered Conrin. “Think you, Sir, that I would survive if you were slain?”

“You speak thus almost foolishly, boy,” answered Ivan. “I am grateful for your attachment; but you would find all kind to you, and many to love and follow. I know that Javis loves you, and would protect you with his own life, till you grow strong enough to protect yourself.”

“Javis loves me!” said the boy, gloomily; “but what is his love to yours? Let me implore you to allow me to accompany you.”

“It cannot be,” returned Ivan, soothingly. “I doubt not your courage, and that you will some day become a gallant warrior; but your arm has not yet gained sufficient strength to compete with men. If I am wounded, Javis will attend me; and if I fall, Heaven will find you some other protector.”

“If you fall, I shall not need Heaven’s protection in this world,” returned the page, with a despairing look.

“You speak strangely, boy,” said Ivan. “I have thought of your welfare.”

As he spoke, Arslan Gherrei rode up.

“Uzden,” said Ivan, addressing him, (for, as it is customary to address a person by his title alone, Ivan had not yet learned the name of the chieftain), “I have a faithful page who has followed me from far lands, and I would not lead him to the dangers of warfare, though he is urgent in his prayers to be allowed to accompany me. I would bestow him in safety; and if I fall, will you grant me a boon, and be his protector?”

“I would do all you ask me, my noble friend,” answered the chief. “I will, if it is your pleasure, place him with my daughter.”

“He could not have a fairer or kinder mistress,” answered Ivan, who, desiring Conrin to follow, returned with the chieftain to the spot were the women were still standing.

“I have returned, lady,” said Ivan, addressing Ina, “to bring you an attendant, who would fain be employed in more warlike services. He is a brave youth, and I owe him much. I leave him, therefore, by your father’s permission, to your gentle care, and he will serve you as faithfully as he has done me.”

“Gladly will I follow your wishes, noble stranger,” replied Ina; “for he is a gallant boy, and I will treat him rather as a brother than as a servant.”

“Thanks, lady, for your kindness,” answered Ivan. “Here, Conrin,” he added, calling to the boy, “I leave you, during my absence, to serve this lady; and you will find it a more pleasing task than following me to the field. Farewell! may you be as happy under her kind care as you deserve.”

Two pages missing from the scan

“Lynx. We will here leave our horses and our guns; and let us see if Circassian steel is not better than Russian lead.”

Another shout proclaimed the approbation of the band to this proposal. The most renowned and most active were then divided into four parties, of about one hundred and fifty men each, who, throwing aside all incumbrances, retained only their swords and long broad daggers. The Hadji put himself at the head of one band, and his son Alp led the most daring and active of the Dehli Khans, who willingly followed him in consideration of his father’s renown. Arslan Gherrei led a third party of the bravest warriors, with whom Ivan was about to volunteer, when he was unanimously elected to lead the fourth band. A few were destined for the less glorious, but necessary, service of guarding the horses and such arms as had been laid aside; and the remainder, under Achmet Beg, were to form a cordon round the fort, to cut off any stragglers of the enemy who should attempt to escape.

The scouts, who had been sent to watch the vessel, brought word that she had just arrived in the bay, and that troops had been landing from her; but this did not damp the ardour of the mountaineers, though Ivan remained in a state of alarm, lest his friend might be ordered out for execution before they could attack the fort.

The night had been far spent before all the arrangements were made; and, at a signal given by their leader, the army advanced cautiously and in deep silence towards the fort. A storm with terrific fury now broke over their heads, when the Hadji proposed to delay no longer; but (their footsteps being unheard amid the tempest) to rush on at once to the assault. The plan was, however, over-ruled by the advice of Achmet Beg.

“Stay, my brother,” he said; “though the foe hear not the sound of our footsteps, the flashes of lightning would betray our approach.” And as they arrived at the skirts of the forest nearest the sea, with the fort below them, he added: “See the lightning plays round the bayonets of the sentinels at their posts. Wait, till they grow weary of the storm, and then perchance they may endeavour to seek shelter beneath their walls, and their eyes may not be turned this way.”

“Your advice is good,” answered the Hadji. “Let it be so.”

Attentive to their chief leader, all the bands therefore halted; watching, in eager expectation, for the order to advance again.

While our hero was waiting for the command to proceed, he fancied that he observed a small light figure, which now advanced, moving among the dark masses of human beings surrounding him. He looked earnestly through the obscurity to catch a glimpse of the object as the lightning flashed brightest. All was again obscure, when he heard a low sigh near him. He turned: his page Conrin stood by his side.

He spoke rather angrily. “How is this, boy? I left you under the Lady Ina’s care. Do you thus so soon disobey my orders?”

A low sob was the answer. At length the boy found words to speak. “And do you thus so soon forget your promise, Sir? Did you not say that I might follow you through all dangers and hardships? and am I to be left at home in safety, while you are thus exposed to peril? Let me now accompany you, and no harm can happen to me. My life is charmed when near you.”

Before Ivan had time to answer, the rain poured down in torrents from the dark clouds, and the lightning ceased.

“Now is our time to advance,” cried the Hadji to the leaders assembled around him. “To you, my son Alp, with your fiery Dehli Khans, shall be given in charge to scale the steep rocks which form the side of the fort to the right. Do you, Uzden Arslan Gherrei, form your band on my left, and we will rush up the smooth ground in front. We have often fought side by side, and can best face danger together, while our armour will protect us in the most exposed situation. You, stranger, with your light-clad followers, must storm on the left, and as far round towards the sea as they can reach over the rough and rocky ground; while do you, my brother, be ready to strengthen any of us who may require aid. And now, chiefs, in the name of Allah! lead on your followers.”

The leaders hastened to the head of their bands, and, amidst the loud roaring of the tempest, and the dashing of the rain, they stole in deep darkness close beneath the walls of the doomed fort.

The sentinels at their posts, with their heads muffled in their cloaks, did not suspect the danger that surrounded them; or, when they looked beyond the walls, were blinded by the rain, and saw nothing besides the dark veil which shrouded them.

Our hero, with a guide, whom he kept close to him, reached the very trench of the fort, on the south-western angle, at the very moment that the other bands gained their destined posts. Then crouching down, they could scarcely have been distinguished from the rocks and coarse herbage which covered the ground, even had the clouds cleared off, and allowed the stars to give their light.

There the hardy mountaineers waited, scarcely daring to breathe, for the Hadji’s preconcerted signal to commence the attack. Silent, as tenants of the grave, they watched, while not a human being within the fort perceived the thick clustering foe, or dreamed that danger was nigh.

The rain had ceased, and the tempest had passed away, when the pale cold light of dawn began, by imperceptible degrees, to appear; yet, before it had thrown a gleam of brightness on the scene, the deep sonorous voice of the Hadji, uttering the cry of “Allah! Allah!” broke the stillness of the air, and was taken up on all sides by the eager warriors, as they rushed impetuously to the assault. They had gained the summit of the ramparts, before the sentinels could recover from their panic. Vain was the slight resistance they could offer, as they sunk beneath the powerful arms of their assailants.

Wherever the Russian soldiers turned, as they rushed in disordered affright from their huts, they found themselves surrounded by foes. Even on the side they considered impracticable, Alp Beg, with his youthful and active followers, assaulted them; while on the sea-side, Ivan and his band had sprung over the entrenchments, and had driven those who attempted to withstand him from the walls. A few of the most determined of the garrison made a desperate rush towards the guns, which vomited forth a shower of grape; but in a few minutes, the men who fired them were cut down by the mountaineers.

On every side arose those tremendous cries which quailed the stoutest hearts. Innumerable foes seemed to be hurled from out of the obscurity of the sky among the Russians, as the Circassians leaped over the trenches. Arslan Gherrei and the Hadji had met with the greatest opposition in front; but the latter, fighting his way, had joined his son Alp, on the right, while the brave commander of the fortress, rallying a strong body of troops, met the former chieftain in his victorious course. The Russians opened a tremendous fire, beneath which many of their assailants fell, as encouraged by their officer’s example, they advanced to meet them, the Circassians rushing to their very bayonets’ points.

So bravely did the former fight, that many of the Circassians were for a time driven back; and Arslan Gherrei found himself surrounded by Russians. Many of the most daring advanced to seize him, but his sword kept them at bay; yet they seemed determined to overwhelm him: when our hero, on seeing so large a body of defenders still keeping together, led on some of his men, and fought his way towards the spot. There was just sufficient daylight to distinguish objects at no great distance; when, catching sight of the heroic Arslan Gherrei, hard pressed, and defending himself singly against a host of foes, he shouted loudly his name, and strained every nerve to reach him. He almost shrieked with eagerness, as he fell, like a tiger, on the intervening combatants, till he hewed a way to the rescue of the noble chieftain. And, once again, those two brave warriors fought side by side, their foes giving way before them: none could withstand their arms. Then as their followers united, the enemy retreated to a building in their rear, into which some found entrance, and opened a heavy fire on the assailants, while the rest remained without, fighting with their backs to the walls.

The firing lasted but a few minutes; when a terrific explosion took place. The earth shook with violence; and the combatants, interrupted in their deadly strife, were covered with the falling ruins, and obscured by smoke and dust.

Ivan looked around. Arslan Gherrei stood unharmed near him. Around them, and amid the fallen building, lay strewed the bodies of their late opponents, and of many of their own party, killed by the descending ruins.

Wherever Ivan moved, the daring young page was by his side, fearless of the strife. Unharmed by the swords of the foe, and the falling ruins, he pursued his way, fighting as bravely as the boldest warrior, and regarding only his master’s safety.

By the light of the burning rafters, which blazed furiously, Ivan eagerly hastened in search of his friend; and as the smoke and dust cleared off, he caught sight of a human being, endeavouring to extricate himself from the ruins of a small building. He leaped over the smoking ruins, towards the spot, followed by some of his men. In a few minutes he had the happiness of lifting his friend Stanisloff in his arms, and seeing his fetters knocked off, while loud shouts proclaimed the satisfaction of his liberators.

In the mean time, the venerable Hadji and his gallant son had cleared the fort of all who opposed them. Young Alp drove the Russians to the water’s edge, so that at the time the magazine blew up, all opposition had ceased. As the victors hurried through the fort, the sound of cannon from the ship of war in the harbour, proclaimed that some of their enemies had reached the shore, and were being protected in their embarkation. A party, therefore, hurried off to assist Alp in capturing the remainder of their defeated foes, or in utterly destroying them.

As the sun rose in majestic splendour over the mountains, what a scene of havoc and destruction it revealed! On every side were the bodies of the slaughtered Russians, ghastly with the terrific wounds of the broad bladed cama, which had pierced home to the breasts of the victims, doing its work surely. Their countenances were livid, and their limbs distorted into every frightful attitude. Among them, near the walls, lay many bodies of the mountaineers, their sabres firmly clasped in their clenched hands, scarcely shewing the small death wound caused by the bullet. Some lay pierced by the bayonets of the defenders of the castle, as they leaped from the parapet among them.

Farther in the centre, amid their slain husbands and fathers, were the bodies of several women and children, who, rushing from their huts, at the first terrific sound of the onslaught, had been, in the darkness and confusion, overthrown, unknowingly slain, and trampled upon, by the fierce combatants of either side. Round the smoking ruins of the magazine which had exploded, were the blackened remains of the gallant commander of the fort, and of the few faithful soldiers who had taken refuge with him in the building attached to it; and, crushed amid the heaps of earth and stones, were the bodies of several of the fierce mountaineers who were attacking it.

Some of the store-houses and barracks had likewise caught fire, and were blazing up furiously, to add to the destruction and confusion. Parties of the victors were hurrying over the fort, some ransacking the quarters of the officers, others piling the arms of the conquered, and others collecting the prisoners who had lain down their arms. The cannonading soon ceased, and the brig of war was seen standing out of the harbour, carrying away the poor remains of the garrison, who had first escaped to the shore, though the greater part had either been slain, or made prisoners.

None of the chiefs of note had fallen, they being well protected for this species of fighting, by the coats of chain armour they wore under their dress; but it was a dearly-bought victory to their followers, three score of whom had perished by the bullets of the Russians, and by the explosion of the magazine.

Achmet Beg, notwithstanding his advanced age, had not been able to restrain his ardour; but with somewhat of the fiery valour of his brother the Hadji, when the shouts of the combatants arose, had quitted his post outside, and, scaling the ramparts, with many of his followers, joined in the fray. Overcome with fatigue he stood like the statue of an aged Mars, leaning on his sword reeking with the blood of his foes, and covered with the dust and smoke of the combat.

Alp Beg now returned from the pursuit of the enemy, whom he had almost cut to pieces before the remnant succeeded in escaping to the boats of the brig. Among the latter, was probably the Count Erintoff; as when Ivan and Thaddeus went in search of his corpse, it was no where to be found. The chieftains then assembled in the centre of the fort; when our hero led forth his rescued friend, who was received with warm and sincere congratulations by his gallant liberators. Few words passed between them; for there was still much to be done, and all were anxious to return to give assurance to their friends of their success.

By Ivan’s side stood young Conrin, amid the fierce and bearded warriors; one bright and glowing spot alone remained on his otherwise pale cheek, and his eyes burned with the same unearthly lustre which they had shewn after the former combat. His lip at times quivered, and his arm still trembled with the exertion he had undergone, as his hand grasped a weapon marked with many a red stain. Alas! that one so young, and seemingly of so gentle a nature, should engage in scenes of bloodshed like this! The boy gazed up in his master’s face with a look expressive of such satisfaction and joy, that he had escaped the dangers of the attack, that Ivan relented from the displeasure he had felt at the youth’s rashness, and, placing his hand on his shoulder, said:

“It was for your safety, my brave, but rash, Conrin, that I forbade you to accompany me on this expedition; and for my own sake also. For my grief would have been, indeed, great, and I should never have ceased blaming myself, had you fallen, or received any injury. Therefore, if you love me, venture not again into such danger.”

The boy burst into tears. “It would be my greatest joy to die at your feet, if I thought you loved me as I would be loved!” exclaimed he passionately. “And I am amply rewarded for all the horrors of this scene, now that the moment has arrived in which I know that you are safe.”

“Boy, you will wear that gallant young spirit out, if you thus exert it before its time. For my sake, if not for your own, play me not thus false again,” said Ivan. “And, now as a truant, I must return you to your mistress.”

“Am I then forgiven, Sir?” asked the boy.

“Yes, Conrin, yes, you are forgiven; and gladly, as you have not suffered. But see, the chiefs are moving on, and I must join them.”

The chiefs had been holding a consultation, in which it was agreed to destroy the fort completely. Achmet Beg volunteering to remain with a party of his followers, to superintend its entire demolition. The rest quitted the fort, the drawbridge being lowered for their exit. They were received with shouts of congratulation by the party outside the walls, each man laden with the arms and other booty which they had found in the fort, and carefully guarding the few prisoners they had taken.

A more mournful procession followed, conveying on quickly-formed biers, the bodies of their slain comrades, the bearers changing, at intervals, the triumphant songs of victory into cries of lamentation for their early fate. The victorious little army first repaired to the secluded vale where they had left their horses, their rifles, their cloaks, and provisions, and where the last sad obsequies were to be performed to the slain. But it was a consolation to all the true believers in Mahomet, that, falling in defence of their country, their souls would find a quick passage to Paradise. Short, consequently, was the burial service of the brave warriors, though the grief of the survivors was not the less for the friends who had fallen.

The chieftains, therefore, leaving a party to commit the bodies to their last resting-place in that quiet spot, hastened back to defend the passes of Ghelendjik, lest the garrison, taking advantage of the absence of many of the inhabitants, should attempt to ravage the country.