The Circassian Slave | Page 3

"Yes, excellency, the bids ran high."
"A goodly sum, truly, Mustapha, but a goodly return," continued the
Sultan.
"There was one fault, excellency," continued the agent, "that I feared
might disappoint you."
"And what is that, good Mustapha?"
"She is both deaf and dumb, excellency."
"A mute?"
"Yes, excellency."
"Both deaf and dumb," repeated the Sultan, rising from his divan and
approaching the lovely Circassian, actuated by the interest that he felt
at so singular an announcement.
While the old Turk stroked his beard with an air of satisfaction at the
result of his purchase as it regarded the approval of his master, the
slave bent humbly before the monarch, for though she knew not by any
word or sign addressed to her who her master was, yet she felt that no
one could assume that air of dignity and command but the Sultan. A
blush stole over the pale face of the Circassian as the monarch laid his
hand on her arm and gazed intently upon her face, and whatever his
inward thoughts were, his handsome countenance expressed a spirit of
tenderness and gentle concern for her situation that became him well,
for clemency is the brightest jewel in a crown.

"Deaf and dumb," repeated the Sultan against to himself, "and yet so
very beautiful."
"She is beautiful, indeed, excellency," said the old Turk, echoing his
master's thoughts.
"So they sought her eagerly at the market, good Mustapha, did they
not?"
"Excellency, yes. One of your own officers bid against me heavily; he
wore the marine uniform."
"Ha! did the fellow know you?" asked the Sultan, quickly, with a
flashing eye that showed how capable that face was of a far different
expression from that which the dumb slave had given rise to.
"I think he did not know me, excellency."
After a moment's pause the Sultan turned again to the gentle girl that
stood before him, and taking her hand, endeavored by his looks of kind
assurance to express to her that he should strive to make her happy; and
as he smoothed her dark, glossy hair tenderly, the slave bent her
forehead to the hand that held her own, in token of gratitude for the
kindness with which she was received, and when she raised her face
again. Both the Sultan and Mustapha saw that tears had wet her cheeks,
and her bosom heaved quickly with the emotion that actuated her.
At this moment the Circassian felt her dress slightly drawn from behind,
and turning, confronted the person of a lad who might, judging from his
size, be some seventeen years of age. His form was beautiful in its
outline, and his step light and graceful; but the face, alas! that throne of
the intellect was a barren waste, and his vacant eye and lolling lip
showed at once that the poor boy was little less than an idiot. And yet,
as he looked upon the slave, and saw the tear glistening in her eye,
there seemed to be a flash of intelligence cross his features, as though
there was still a spark of heaven in the boy. But 'twas gone again, and
seeming to forget the object that had led him to her side, he sank down
upon the cushioned floor, and played with a golden tassel as an infant

would char have done.
The idiot was an exemplification of a strange but universal superstition
among the Turks. With these eastern people there is a traditionary
belief in what is called the evil eye, answering to the evil spirit that is
accredited to exist by more civilized nations. Any human being bereft
of reason, or seriously deformed in any way, is held by them to be a
protection against the blight of the evil eye, which, being once cast
upon a person, renders him doomed forever. Holding, therefore, that
dwarfs, idiots or mad-men are partially inspired, every considerable
such establishment supports one or more, whose privilege it is to follow,
untrammeled, their own pleasure. The idiot boy, in the Sultan's palace,
was one of this class, whom no one thwarted, and who was regarded
with a half superstitious reverence by all.
While this scene had been transpiring between the idiot boy and the
slave, the Sultan had been talking with Mustapha concerning the latter.
It seemed by his story that she had been very ill since she was brought
from her native valley, and that she was hardly yet recovered from the
debility that had followed her sickness. She would not write nor read
one word of either the Turkish or Circassian tongue, and therefore
could only express herself by signs; for which reason, neither those
who sold her nor the purchaser knew aught of her history beyond the
fact that she was a Circassian, and also that