with a sack on his back, wearing dirty leather breeches and a ragged turban, and I took him for one of the beggars that squatted in such numbers about my door. When I saw who it was I cried out in amazement, for Andy’s sturdy legs trembled with weariness, and his pale, staring face was twitching. He dropped the sack, pulled off his turban, and having gazed dully at me for some moments he said, “In the blessed name of the Prophet, Michael, get me something to drink-something strong-or I shall lose the remainder of my poor wits.”
I took him to the boathouse, drove out the Negroes who slept there, and with my own hands fetched him a keg of rare malmsey from the cellar. Andy knocked out the head of the keg, which he carried to his mouth, and in great gulps he drank half of what it contained. Soon the trembling in his limbs ceased and he sagged to the floor with a thud that shook the boards and sent dust flying from the joints of the walls. Then, hiding his face in his hands, he drew a deep breath and uttered so rending, so despairing a sob that I in my turn began to quake for dread.
“Michael,” he said, “I don’t know why I should burden you with my sorrows, but a man must turn to some friend at such a time. I don’t want to grieve you, but things are bad with me-as bad as they can be. Better if I had never been born into the misery of this world.”
“What in the name of Allah has happened?” I cried, in the deepest agitation. “You look as if you’d murdered someone.”
His bloodshot eyes were upon me as he answered, “I’ve been dismissed from the arsenal. They tore the plumes from my turban and kicked me out-they shook their fists and threw my belongings after me. I’m wretched, wretched.”
Relieved that it was no worse I admonished him, saying, “Is that all? You should have known what comes of drinking. But even if you have lost your pay, you’ve your wife’s fortune to turn to.”
With his head still in his hands he retorted, “I care nothing for the arsenal. We had an argument about the cannon and I told them their war galleys were only good for firewood. I wanted them to build bigger vessels to carry heavy ordnance, like the Venetians and Spaniards. So I went. He laughs best who laughs last. But I’m a sorrowful man and don’t expect to laugh ever again in this world.”
He seized the keg and poured more wine down his throat before continuing, “Your good colleague Master Gritti is behaving like a maniac in Hungary, and all the Transilvanian lords are at each other’s throats. But whether Hungarians or Moldavians, Wallachians or Tartars, all are agreed that no Mussulman shall own land in Hungary. My deed of conveyance from King Zapolya they put to what they considered its fit use before my very eyes, and have long since divided my flocks among themselves, slaughtered my cattle, and razed all the buildings to the ground. That poor Jew will suffer great loss, and I can’t get back a penny on all my lands, though they’re so wide that it takes a day and a night to ride from end to end of them. Sweet songs are brief songs, they say, and I own little but the breeches I have on.”
“But-but-” I stammered, realizing that I should have to take care of poor Andy once more, despite the friction this would cause with Giulia. Then, summoning courage, I clapped him on the shoulders and said, “We’ll find some way out, my dear Andy. But what has your wife to say to all this?”
“My wife,” said Andy absently. He raised the keg and emptied it at a draught. “I must have forgotten to tell you. The poor little girl is dead. And it was not an easy death. She suffered for three days before she went.”
“Jesus, Mary!” I cried, striking my hands together. “That is, Allah is Allah-Why did you not tell me this at first? I feel for you most deeply in your great sorrow. How did she die?”
“In childbirth, in childbirth!” said Andy in a tone of wonder. “And that was not the worst, for the child died, too.”
And so at last I learned all that had befallen Andy. He hid his face in his hands again and broke into such terrible weeping that the walls of the boathouse shook. I could find no words to comfort him in his boundless grief.
“It was a boy,” he managed to say at last. Then, enraged at his own weakness, he’ swore for the first time in many a long month in his own rough mother tongue,
Without a word I returned to the cellar and fetched another barrel of wine. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
“My little foal! Her cheeks were like peaches and her eyes like bilberries. I don’t understand. But even in the early days the Jewish physician advised her to take the baths at Bursa, and I’m glad to remember that she made the journey like a princess, though at the time I grumbled foolishly at the expense. The physician told me in his learned jargon that her organs had grown askew from too much riding as a young girl. And her loins were hard as ash, for young Hungarian ladies are in the wicked habit of riding astride like men.”
“Dear Andy, my brother and my friend! All these things were written in the stars before your birth. Sweet songs are brief songs, as you say, and you lived in your happiness so long as it pleased Allah. Who knows? She might have lived to weary of you and make eyes at some other man.”
Andy shook his heavy head. “Stop chattering, Michael, and tell me-were their deaths sent to punish me for deserting the Christian faith? I believe I’m as good a Moslem as any, though I can’t recite all the prayers. In my heart I’ve never denied our Lord or His mother-Mussulmans venerate them, too-and I’ve been sneered at for never treading the Cross underfoot. But as I was roaming about the city in my anguish I chanced to enter the Christian church, and when I heard the intoning of the priest and the ringing of the bell I seemed to hear also the devil himself laughing at me in mockery, because I’d forsaken God of my free will and at your bidding. For God’s sake, help me, Michael, and give me peace again. My son was not baptized and my wife neglected both confession and communion after our marriage, though in other ways she was a good Christian. It is frightful to think that because of my falling away they must burn in eternal fire.”
I could not but reflect seriously upon what he said. With trembling hands I raised the wine to my lips and sought in it the courage that I lacked. I thought it unfair of Andy to blame me for his defection, and said with some heat, “Pray remember that we took the turban independently of one another; I never asked you to do it. Though if we must go to hell for our sins I admit we shall most likely go side by side-indeed, for once I may be a step ahead of you, being a scholar and therefore more answerable for my actions than you.”
Andy replied impatiently, “I’ll account to the Lord for my own actions without troubling you. But why did He strike down my wife and son? What sin can my little boy have committed? I learned as a child how vain it is for a poor man to hope for justice in this world, but all the more confidently did I hope for it in the next.”
I know not whether the wine had given me courage or merely clouded my judgment, but for the first time in my life I confessed to myself that I was the worst of all heretics.
“Andy,” I said gravely, “I’m weary of quibbles and of juggling with words.
Andy’s head shook and tears rolled into his great hands as he said, “Perhaps you’re right, Michael. Who am I that God’s great cannon should be trained on me? Give me a truss of straw to lie upon for a few days, Michael, and a little bread; I will get over this as best I may and consider how to start life afresh. It’s only in stories that men win a princess and half a kingdom. In the days of my great happiness I used to fancy that I must be dreaming, and soon I think I shall be able to believe it. First I will take the edge off sorrow by getting properly drunk; then in the drabness and headache of waking I shall remember the past in all humility as a dream too fair for an oaf like me.”
His resignation so deeply moved me that I too wept, and together we mourned the sorrows and vanities of life. Andy being already very drunk I fetched a sleeping draught from my medicine chest, and mixed enough of it with his wine to stun an ox. Soon he sank back unconscious on the floor, to all appearances dead save for a faint whistling in his nose.
He slept for two days and nights, and when he woke he took a little to eat. I did not vex him with needless chatter, but left him alone to dangle his legs from the jetty and stare at the restless waters of the Bosphorus.
Some days later he came to me and said, “I know I’m a burden to you here, and especially to your wife, so I shall keep out of the way and live with your Negroes in the boathouse, if you’ll let me. But give me work to do-the heavier the better. Idleness irks me, and I would like to do something in return for
I was abashed at his words, for Giulia had indeed pointed out somewhat sharply that Andy ate at least three aspers’ worth of food a day and used a mattress and blanket that properly belonged to the Negroes;
she also suggested that he should bestir himself a little to earn his keep. And although I should have preferred
