LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 71, 22 August 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

IN DANGER. IN FOUR CHAPTERS, Continued. Fire worshippers! I rubbed my eyes, as if to awaken myself from some troublesome dream. Yes ; the conviction forced itself upon me that those on whom I looked were no counterfeits, no theatrical representatives of Mithra-worshippers, but genuine confessors of the belief in fire as the divine principle. I had heard, vaguely, that in remote nooks of Persia, there yet lurked a few congregations of this persecuted remnant of believers in the old religion of Iran, not as yet converted or extirpated by the stern rule of Islam. And here I had before me such a gathering of the adherents of a conquered and proscribed creed; while, as certain acolytes of the priest approached and flung fuel on the flames, so that the ruddy light leaped up again, I saw the prostrate forms arise once more, and heard many voices take up the measure of a w'Ll chant, some hymn to the sun, doubts, in ancient Pehlebvi poetry, and probably as little intelligible to most of the hearers as ecclesiastical Latin to a crowd of Italian rustics. But %vhat now chiefly attracted my attention was the aspect of the officiating priest, now very plainly visible in the full glare of the fire. I seemed, singular to say, to know him. Those keen striking features, transfigured as they now appeared to be under the influence of passionate excitement, where and when I had seen them last, and whose was the well-known face that appeared beneath the jewelled and quaintly shaped mitre ? While I was puzzling my wits in the effort to guess the answer to this enigma, my ear caught a sound, which resembled nothing so much as the deep, earth-shaking tramp of many horses rapidly approaching. The voices of the assembly were now raised to their highest pitch in the wild and prolonged chanting, and this probably prevented the singers from distinguishing the ominous sound of the coming hoofs. Presently, however, the chant ceased abruptly, and was succeeded by a roar of anguish and alarm in the deep voices of men, blended with the shriller cries of female voices, as a body of Musselrnan cavalry dashed at full speed into the meadow, and rode furiously, with levelled spears, down upon the panic-stricken mob of white-robed worshippers. ‘Allah Akhbar !’ ‘ For God and the Prophet !’ ‘ Kill, kill 1’ Such were the shouts that rang in my ears, as the fierce riders swept on with lowered lances and brandished sabres in pursuit of the fugitives, who broke up and (led, as helpless, for all purposes of resistance, as so many sheep assailed by a pack of hungry wolves. The altar was roughly overthrown, and the fire scattered, hut the flames igniting the dry fern and brushwood that were piled hard by, there rose up a broad and lurid glare; by the crimson light of which I could observe the details of the confused and hideous scene.

Many were trampled under the feet of the galloping horses, while others were struck down or pierced by the swords and spears of the pitiless soldiery, who, with bloodthirsty cries of ‘ Kill, kill ! Been, deen ! B'or the holy Imams?' encouraged one another in the work of slaughter. Others fled, shrieking, and tearing off as they ran the fatal white garments that made them so conspicuous to the pursuers, The priest had disappeared, while more and more armed men seemed to pour into the meadow, and the frequent report of the musketry echoed through the woods. One shot, perhaps fired at random, cut away a slender twig not six inches from my head, and ploughed its furrow in the thick back of the tree beside me, so that I thought it better to scramble down and take refuge in the centre of a clump of elms some paces distant, the rather that the tide of flight and chase seemed to bo ebbing towards the opposite extremity of the glen, and that there seemed to be little project of my being disturbed.

Scarcely, however, had I gained this place of shelter, before I heard a sobbing cry like that of a hunted hare, and saw come running swiftly towards me, as if winged by mortal terror, a barefooted child, a young girl of some ten years old, whom I recognised as the youngest daughter of the peasant who was my late host. Her dark hair was loose, her features sharpened by pain and fear, and I noticed that there was blood on her white dress, while behind her bounded a fierce horseman, his right arm flung back, and his scimitar flashing, as he derided her efforts to escape. That swarthy savage face, the brutal laugh, the vest of cloth of gold, could belong to none but Yussef Khan. Fear, which had hitherto lent unnatural speed to the youthful fugitive, now suddenly seemed to benumb her feet; for as she glanced back and saw the rider close behind, she fell upon her knees, and held up her hands imploringly, with an inarticulate prayer for mercy. With a mocking laugh, El Zagal whirled • the glittering sword-blade around his head, to give force to the impending blow; but I could bear no more, and rushing forward, grasped the bridle so vigorously, that the fiery horse reared up arrow straight under the pressure of the powerful bit, pawed the air for a moment, and then fell back with a crash, unseating his rider; while the child, obeying the instinct of self-preservation, fled like a hunted fawn into the thicket, and was seen no more. I a very confused remembrance of what followed, until, after a scramble and a scuffle, during which I had more than one very narrow escape of being sabred or pistolled, I found myself, with my hands tightly bound together, one of a group of prisoners, all of whom, save myself, were more or less severely wounded, while of our ultimate fate there seemed little doubt, since four or five stout fellows —tent-pitchers, as I guessed, from the camp—were busy in selecting some convenient boughs of a forked shape, whereto they might affix the camel halters which they bore along with them, and which were already adjusted with runningnooses, the purport of which was only too intelligible. A number of soldiers, horse and foot, were around, and the whole proceedings appeared to be under the superintendence of a richly dressed officer, my old enemy Yussef Khan. As for my fellow captives, whose lineaments were unknown to me, they seemed apathetically sullen and silent, and uttered no word of petition or complaint. Such, however, was far from being my own case, for mustering all the available Persian words that I knew, I loudly accosted Yussef Khan by name, demanding to be taken before the prince, Mirza Hussein, without delay, and calling on him to bear witness that I was a stranger and an Englishman, who had that very day been the guest of his general, and who had in no manner rendered himself amenable to the Persian law, whatever it might be. To all which appeal El Zagal listened with cynical indifference, smoking his jewelled pipe the while with an air of infinite enjoyment, and eyeing me with a sort of grim humor, such as that with which a cat regards the feeble efforts of a maimed mouse to crawl away towards its hole, There was no mistaking the wretch’s expression of cruel malignity; and as I remembered that I had baffled and unhorsed him, and noted the smears of dust and clay that marked the gay housings of his steed, as it stood close by, and which were more faintly visible on the brave attire of the rider, my heart sank within me, and I began to prepare myself for the worst. After all, if this truculent scoundrel were resolved to put me to death summarily along with the poor Fire-worshippers who had fallen into his hands, he ran no especial risk of future retribution. I had been taken, in an oriental garb, in the midst of the members of this persecuted sect, and in an attempt to resist a royal officer. That my interference to save a helpless ciam from the sharp edge of El Zagal’s scimitar, was prompted by the merest instinct of humanity, availed me nothing, ‘Jeddart justice, to be hanged first and tried afterwards,’ according to the old Border saying, was the pleasant prospect before me. To die thus ! And at the very time, too, when Fortune had seemed to smile upon me, and when my youthful day dreams of love anp happiness had appeared on the point of being realised! I felt a distinct thrill of pain as I recalled Kate’s sweet face, and pictured to myself the long hoping against hope, the carking care, the bitter grief, that would sadden that faithful young heart to which I was so dear. It was all at an end, then, that vision of a pleasant home and a fond wife, of competence and success, and of the well-earned repose to be enjoyed one day, in England. I was to perish miserably, to gratify the malice of a savage; and it might be long before tidings of ray fate should reach the headquarters of the Caspian Navigation Company. These meditations were, however, cut short by the murmur of curiosity and excitement among the bystanders which greeted the arrival of a ruffianlylooking fellow, with a bundle at his back, and followed by two half-clad lads laden with similar burdens, and whose squalid and wild aspect gave them a strong likeness to gipsies of the middle ages. The man made a profound obeisance to El Zagal, and then rolled up his loose sleeves to the shoulder, baring a pair of long and hairy arms like the limbs of some enormous spider, a simile that was warranted also by the ungainly shape of Ins broad body. Meanwhile the lads hastily began, with bamboo bellows and pan of glowing charcoal, to kindle a hot fire, in which, one by one, they inserted, at their master’s bidding, certain iron instruments, not unlike those used by a smith. But. the newcomer, who, from time to time, eyed me with an unpleasant air of proprietorship, bore no signs of the smith’s craft —a butcher, more likely, to judge by the dull brown-red stains on his blue garments. But. what docs a butcher want with red-hot pincers and tongs, and strange circlets of glowing iron ! Presently, as 1 caught Yussef Khan’s cruel glance fixed on me with a meaning expression, the hideous truth forced itself upon me, that the man beside the fire was the executioner of the camp, and that I was to be tortured before being put to death. My blood ran cold, as I recalled many a vague but horrible report of oriental cruelty, and remembered how utterly I was in the power of my unscrupulous enemy. Despair gave me strength, I suppose, for, by a violent effort, I succeeded in bursting the bonds that manacled my hands, and shouting loudly the name of Mirza Hussein, sprang to ray feet. Yussef Khan laughed hoarsely as he made a sign to his attendants, who rushed forward at once, and by their united strength overpowered me, and dragged me towards the fire. I shuddered as 1 felt, the grasp of the ’executioner fasten on my bare wrist, and as, in obedience to his injunctions, the lent-

pitchers proceeded to bind me to a tough sapling that stood near the fire. I think BI Zagal mast have made some sign to the tormentor, for the wretch, with a guttural sound of assent, instantly selected, from amidst the lumps of glowing charcoal, a pair of pincers heated to a cherry-red, and came shambling back towards me. I closed my eyes with a groan of despair ; but almost at the same moment I heard the sound of galloping hoofs, and immediately after there arose a cry of dismay, as a horseman dashed into the centre of the group, overturning the brasier and the hot coals, and upsetting at the same time the executioner and his assistants. Nor did the wild rider content himself with this, for, throwing his horse on its haunches by one jerk of the powerful bit, he waved his flashing sword around him in a style that soon cleared a sufficient space, in the midst of which I alone was left standing. To he continued.