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Updated: May 11, 2025
Corti told her of the repast at the palace, and recounted the scene at parting. "It looks like despair. Can it be the Emperor is making ready to die? Answer, and fear not for me. My life has been a long preparation. He believes the defence is lost the captains believe so and thou?" "O Princess, it is terrible saying, but I too expect the judgment of God in the morning."
Heaven might send him a happy chance. So the weeks melted into months, and he kept the weary way hoping against reason, conspiring, betraying, demoralizing, sinking into despair. Proceeding now to the special service mentioned in the extract from the last report of Count Corti to Mahommed.
A brief combat took place, scarcely more than a blow, and the Turk was disarmed and at mercy. "Son of Isfendiar," said Corti, "the slaying these poor people with only their harvest knives for weapons was murder. Why should I spare your life?" "I was ordered to punish them." "By whom?" "My Lord the Sultan." "Do your master no shame. I know and honor him." "Yesterday they slew our Moslems."
"The Princess" thus he began a sentence, but stopped something caught hold of his heart the speaking face of the beloved woman appeared to him her eyes were reproachful her lips moved she spoke: "Count Corti, I am she whom thou lovest; but what dost thou? Is it not enough to betray my kinsman? Thy courage what makest thou of it but wickedness? ... Write of me to thy master.
Near it lay a pair of steel gauntlets elegantly gilt. One stout centre-tree, the main support of the roof of camel's hair, appeared gayly dressed with lances, shields, arms, and armor; and against it, strange to say, the companion of a bright red battle-flag, leant the banderole Count Corti had planted before the door the morning of the sally.
The danger and he discerned it with painful clearness was in the religious dissensions of the Greeks; still he fancied the first serious blow struck by the Turks, the first bloodshed, would bring the factions together, if only for the common safety. It is well worth while here to ascertain the views and feelings of the people whom Count Corti was thus making ready to defend.
Corti declined: "The Arabs have a saying, Your Majesty 'A nest for a setting bird, a saddle for a warrior. The jaunt has but rested me, and there was barely enough danger in it.... The Turk is an old acquaintance.
"Proceed, Sergius," she said; nor might one familiar with her voice have perceived any alteration in it from the ordinary; then to the Count again: "Let us go out; there may be others needing my care." At the door Corti said: "Stay, O Princess a word, I pray." She had only to look at his face to discover he was the subject of a fierce conflict of spirit. "Have pity on me, I conjure you.
Old Kalil, going out, though bowing, and lip-handing me, never took his eyes off you." The stool brought, Corti was about to sit. "Take off your cap" Mahommed spoke sternly "for as you are not the Mirza I sent away, I want to see your face while we talk. Sit here, in the full of the light." The Count seated, placed his hooded cap on the floor. He was perfectly collected.
"Count Corti," she returned, "if I hesitate pledging myself, it is not because of distrust. I will hear you." "It is well said, dear lady." He stopped a pleasant warmth was in his heart a perception, like dim light, began breaking through the obscurities in his mind.
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