CHAPTER II.
HAYDEE, THE WIFE OF MONTE-CRISTO.
It was in Monte-Cristo's luxurious mansion in Marseilles, one brightmorning in April. Since the Count's departure for Algeria in search ofher son, Mercedes, faithful to her oath never to leave Haydee, had takenup her residence there. The two women who had filled such importantplaces in the life of Monte-Cristo were sitting together in the largedrawing-room, the windows of which looked out upon the calm blue watersof the Mediterranean. These windows were open and through them floatedthe delightful perfume of the flowers from the garden beyond, mingledwith the saline odors of the sea. It was about ten o'clock and the sun,high in the heavens, inundated the vast apartment with its golden lightand filled it with a generous warmth.
Haydee, the wife of Monte-Cristo, reclined upon an oriental rug, herhead pillowed in the lap of Mercedes, who sat on a divan elegantlyupholstered in the eastern fashion. Mercedes was lightly toying withHaydee's glossy hair that fell like a cloud about her shapely shoulders.Her eyes were beaming with affection, while those of Haydee had in thema dreamy, faraway look.
"Sister," said Mercedes at last, "why are you so sad and silent?"
"I know not," replied the wife of Monte-Cristo, languidly.
"You are thinking of your husband, the noblest of men, who is even now,perhaps, risking his life in the Algerian desert to save and recover myson."
"You speak truly," returned Haydee with a shudder; "I am thinking ofhim, and my heart is strangely oppressed."
"Have confidence in Monte-Cristo," said her companion, earnestly. "Hislion courage, wonderful mental resources and mysterious power willrender him more than a match for the untutored Arabs with whom it is hismission to contend."
"Yes, Mercedes; but my son, my Esperance? He is so young to be exposedto the dangers of the desert!"
"But Monte-Cristo is with him, and the father's love will shield himfrom all harm."
Haydee made no reply, but continued to gaze dreamily into space.Mercedes, still toying with her hair, strove to rouse her.
"Sister," said she, abruptly, "yesterday you promised to tell me howMonte-Cristo rescued you from the hands of the Turkish slave-dealer, AliPasha. Will you not fulfil that promise now?"
Haydee turned her eyes full on her companion's countenance and a look ofgratitude passed over her pale visage. She saw that Mercedes wished todraw her mind from the contemplation of her husband's present peril byinducing her to revert to his heroism of the past.
"I will tell you," said she, "here in this apartment where everything,even to the very air, is vital with souvenirs of my beloved husband."And, without altering her position, Haydee at once commenced thefollowing thrilling narration:
"We were cruising off the coast of Egypt in the Alcyon, when the idea ofvisiting Constantinople suddenly occurred to Monte-Cristo. He gave hisorders without an instant's delay and the yacht was immediately headedfor the Sultan's dominions.
"We reached Constantinople in due time, after an exceedingly pleasantvoyage, for though it was toward the close of spring the weather wasmild and for weeks the sea had been as calm and unruffled as a mirror.
"As we entered the Bosporus, we noticed a strange craft hovering nearus. It was a small, rakish-looking vessel bearing the Turkish flag.Monte-Cristo had run up his private ensign on the Alcyon, an ensign thatwas recognized by all nations and gave the yacht free entrance intoevery port.
"The strange craft seemed to be following us, but as it made no attemptto approach the yacht, we soon became used to its presence and ceased togive it attention.
"When the Alcyon anchored, a gorgeously decorated caique, manned by ascore of stalwart oarsmen, shot from shore and was soon alongside of theyacht. A magnificently-appareled old man with a long, snowy beard,attended by four solemn and stately eunuchs, came on board and wasceremoniously received by the Count. It was the Grand Vizier, who,having recognized Monte-Cristo's ensign, had hastened to welcome theillustrious hero to Constantinople in the name of his august master, theSultan.
"Such an honor merited prompt and becoming recognition, and Monte-Cristowas too much of a Frenchman not to return compliment for compliment.Leaving the Alcyon in charge of his first officer, and bidding me ahasty and tender farewell, the Count entered the caique with the GrandVizier and departed to pay his respects in person to the ruler of theTurkish nation.
"No sooner was the caique lost to sight among the shipping than thestrange craft we had previously observed suddenly ran up to the yachtand made fast to her with grappling-irons. Before Monte-Cristo's mencould recover from their surprise at this manoeuvre they were madeprisoners and securely bound by twenty Turkish buccaneers, who hadleaped over the bulwarks of the Alcyon, headed by a villainous-lookingwretch, furiously brandishing a jeweled yataghan. This was Ali Pasha,the slave-dealer, as I soon learned to my cost.
"When the ruffians boarded the yacht, I had rushed below and hiddenmyself in Monte-Cristo's cabin, first securing a keen-bladed dagger formy defence.
"I had locked the door, but it was almost instantly burst open and AliPasha leaped in, followed by several of his crew.
"Holding my weapon uplifted in my hand, I cried out, in a tone ofdesperate determination:
"'The first scoundrel who dares to lay a finger on me shall die like adog!'
"This speech was greeted with a loud burst of contemptuous laughter, andAli Pasha himself, springing forward, whirled the dagger from my graspwith his yataghan. This done, he sternly fixed his glance upon me andsaid:
"'Haydee, wife of Monte-Cristo, Haydee, the Greek slave, you are mycaptive! Sons of Islam, seize her and conduct her to the slave mart ofStamboul!'
"Three Turks advanced to obey this command. They seized me and in vaindid I struggle in their ruffianly grasp. In a moment I was securelybound and gagged. A mantle was thrown over my head. I felt myself thrustinto a sack and swooned just as one of the buccaneers was lifting meupon his shoulder.
"When I recovered consciousness, I found myself, with a number ofhalf-clad Georgian and Circassian girls, in the dreaded slave bazaar ofConstantinople. Old memories, fraught with terror, rushed upon me. Irecalled the time when I was before exposed for sale and Monte-Cristohad bought me. Would he come to my rescue once more? I scarcely dared tohope for such a thing. I pictured to myself the Count's desolation anddistress on discovering that I had been stolen from him. But what couldhe do? How could he find me again? And even should he discover me, howcould he snatch me from the grasp of Ali Pasha, whose favor with theSultan was notorious? Monte-Cristo, with all his prestige, was but oneman, and no match for the mendaciousness, duplicity and power of theentire Turkish court! I was lost, and nothing could save me!
"How shall I describe my feelings when I realized that I was even then,at that very moment, exposed for sale, that from being the free andhonored wife of Monte-Cristo I had suddenly become a mere article ofhuman merchandise, valued simply at so many miserable piastres! My fatehung upon a thread. Would I be purchased by some grandee as a newornament for his harem, or was I destined to fall into the hands of abrutal master, to be used as a household drudge for the execution ofbitter and revolting tasks?
"When each new purchaser entered the bazaar I trembled from head tofoot, I quivered in every limb. One by one I saw the unfortunateGeorgian and Circassian girls inspected and disposed of, until at last Iwas the only slave unsold in the entire mart. I thought my turn mustspeedily come, that the next Mussulman who entered would surely buy me,and I had firmly resolved upon suicide at the first opportunity,choosing death rather than slavery.
"Ali Pasha had personally conducted all the visitors about the bazaar,dilating in the extravagant oriental fashion upon the extraordinarymerits of the captives he wished to turn into money. Many times he hadpaused before me where I stood cowering in a corner, volubly expatiatingon my value and attractiveness, but hitherto not a single Turk hadevinced the slightest inclination to relieve him of me.
"At last two men made their appearance and eagerly glanced
around themart. Both wore turbans and full Turkish dress. Their faces wereshrouded with heavy beards, and there was an indescribable somethingabout them that stamped them as personages of exalted rank.
"They paused a short distance from me, and one of them said, addressingAli Pasha:
"'What is the name of yonder slave?'
"'Zuleika,' answered the obsequious and unscrupulous slave-dealer.
"'From what country is she and how did you obtain possession of her?'asked the second visitor, who had not yet spoken. His voice was subduedand evidently disguised; nevertheless there was something familiar inits tone that strangely stirred me and filled me with hope.
"Ali Pasha replied to his inquiry with unblushing effrontery:
"'The slave is from Circassia, and was sold to me by her parents.'
"I know not how I obtained the courage to do so, but instantly I criedout:
"'All that vile wretch has said is false! My name is Haydee, and I amthe wife of the Count of Monte-Cristo! Ali Pasha forcibly abducted mefrom my husband's yacht that now lies in the harbor of Constantinople!'
"'Ali Pasha,' said the first speaker, 'this is a grave accusation! It istrue that the illustrious Monte-Cristo's yacht now lies in the harbor ofStamboul, and such an abduction as this slave has mentioned did,indeed, take place.'
"The slave-dealer winced slightly, but, instantly recovering himself,calmly answered:
"'I know nothing of Monte-Cristo, his yacht or his wife. As for thislying slave, I will punish her on the spot!'
"With these words he advanced toward me and lifted his clenched fist tostrike. I shrank tremblingly against the wall, but the next instant ablow that would have felled an ox had hurled Ali Pasha to the stonefloor of the bazaar. It was delivered by the man whose voice had seemedfamiliar to me, and, tearing off his beard, my husband, the undauntedCount of Monte-Cristo himself, caught me in his arms and folded me tohis breast!
"Ali Pasha had now arisen to his feet. Livid with rage he rushed atMonte-Cristo with a dagger in his hand, swearing by the Prophet that hewould have his heart's blood. But the other visitor caught his arm andheld him back.
"'Who are you and why do you stand between me and my just revenge?'cried the slave-dealer, furiously.
"The stranger threw open his robe, and on his breast gleamed adiamond-studded crescent.
"'The Grand Vizier!' exclaimed Ali Pasha, prostrating himself before thehigh official. The latter clapped his hands, whereupon six soldiersmarched into the bazaar.
"'Seize that wretch!' he cried, pointing to the slave-dealer, 'andinflict upon him the punishment of the bastinado!'
"When this order had been executed, the Grand Vizier, placing himself atthe head of the soldiers, escorted Monte-Cristo and myself to the harborand saw us safely on board the royal caique.
"In due time we reached the yacht, where the officers and crew were attheir posts as usual.
"After his interview with the Sultan, Monte-Cristo, accompanied by theGrand Vizier, had returned to the Alcyon in the caique. To hisastonishment he found his men lying on the deck tightly bound. Onreleasing them he learned what had happened, and his influence wassufficient to induce the Grand Vizier, who was greatly affected by theCount's despair when he discovered the terrible fate that had befallenme, to risk the Sultan's displeasure by aiding him to recover me fromthe clutches of Ali Pasha.
"Such," concluded Haydee, "was the manner in which Monte-Cristo rescuedme from the hands of the villainous Turkish slave-dealer and a fateworse than death."
"Sister," said Mercedes, "no wonder you love Monte-Cristo so devotedly,for he is one of the noblest and most heroic men upon this earth!"