But the bastions which encircle this frail fairy palace are impregnable. On every side nothing but inaccessible rocks, where, if once he reach them, the pursued can defend himself against odds a hundredfold. The Comparadschis stand, day and night, with burning matches behind the cannons which Corsar Beg has had cast for himself within the fortress, for there is no road for ordnance in the whole region. Two of the cannons are pointed at the bridge, to blow it into the air in case of an assault.
From this stronghold Corsar Beg sallies forth, pillaging the land and massacring the defenceless people; and if he lights upon any pursuing host, he instantly turns tail with his Spahis and Bedouins; and whilst he flies to his stronghold along mountain paths, on mules laden with booty, his Timariots, who cover his retreat, throw barricades up on the narrow roads, and stone to death all who venture to follow them into the dark gorges. Sometimes, however, he permits the pursuers to come right up to the fortress walls, and while they are popping away at the rocky bastions with the little half-pound mortars which they have dragged up thither after incalculable exertions, and think that now they will starve him out at last, he plays a practical joke upon them by somehow or other (perhaps through subterranean ways), making a sortie from his stronghold, and robbing and burning behind the backs of the besiegers. Every attempt to capture, surprise, or blockade him has been in vain. The inhabitants of the surrounding villages have begun to migrate into more distant regions for fear of their terrible neighbour.
After the battle of St. Gothard, in which the Turkish general lost the fight and twelve thousand men against the Imperial and Hungarian forces, a twenty years’ armistice was concluded between the Porte, the Emperor, and the Prince of Transylvania, which left the Turks in possession of all the fortresses which they had built or captured in Hungary. The lords of these fortresses now continued the war on their own account, and pillaged and destroyed whenever and wherever they had a chance. The Sultan was too far off to interfere in each individual case. All he could do was to authorize the complainants to capture the peace-breakers if they could, and deal with them as they chose.
In the twilight hour of a sultry summer evening, when the heat, compressed among the rocks during the day, made the atmosphere so heavy and stifling that sound only travelled with difficulty, we see two shapes hastening towards the same point from different directions. One is a man in Hungarian costume, with a low forehead and sharp, squinting eyes, whose oblique gaze seems expressly made to disconcert whomsoever he looks upon. The other is an old Turkish woman, with a warty chin covered with sprouting bristles. The sleeves of her long striped kaftan hang slovenly down, and her dirty turban gives you the impression that she has slept in it for weeks together.
The trysting-place which the two shapes are cautiously making for is a cavern covered with bushes. Both shapes glide, at the same time, into the cavern, from the dark depths of which they can see the fortress without being seen themselves. The old woman, with a hideous smile, whispers something in the man’s ear.
“Are you quite sure?” inquired the squinter, with a searching look.
“So certain that I make bold to claim one-half of the promised reward in advance.”
“That I can quite understand,” replied the man with an insulting smile; “but I will make bold not to pay it. I prefer sticking to my principle of paying as I go along, sentence by sentence.”
“Ask then!” murmured the hag greedily.
“When does the Beg return? I lay five ducats on that question.”
“The answer to it costs ten. That is my lowest price.”
“There’s your money then! Now speak!”
The woman counted the gold pieces, put them in her bosom, and replied—
“The Beg comes home this evening.”
“Where is the subterranean way by which he arrives?”
“The answer to that costs one hundred ducats.”
“There you are! Don’t count them, but answer me!”
The woman took the money, pointed to the yawning chasm behind them, and said—
“We are on the very spot.”
The man looked around him with some surprise, then, jingling the purse from which he had been doling out the ducats in the old woman’s ear, he said—
“All in this purse is yours if our plan succeeds, but if you betray us, this dagger will surely reach you. I’d hunt you down even if you took refuge in hell itself!”
The hag grinned.
“No threats, please! I know something which will not only make you hand over that purse of gold to me instantly, but will also fill you with such insane joy that you’ll be ready to cover me with kisses. I have about me a letter which, if once your master reads, he would cover me with gold from head to foot.”
“Who wrote it?”
“That is a very dear question. If you paid for the answer down, I’m afraid you would not have enough money left to carry you home.”
“I want to know who wrote that letter. I’m not going to buy a pig in a poke.”
“Then farewell! If you want to know anything more, you must pay for it.” And she prepared to go.
“Stop! Give me that letter, or I’ll kill you.”
“No, you won’t! One shriek from me and you are lost.”
“Where’s the letter?”
“You surely don’t think me fool enough to tell you! I don’t carry it on my person, so you need not look for it!”
The man angrily threw the purse towards her, whereupon she tripped to the entrance
