THE PRINCE OF INDIA (Historical Novel). Lew Wallace
with a steady, penetrating gaze—“know thou then, there is a Brahman of my acquaintance who is a Magus. I use the word to distinguish him from the necromancers whom the Koran has set in everlasting prohibition. He keeps school in a chapel hid away in the heart of jungles overgrowing a bank of the Bermapootra, not far from the mountain gates of the river. He has many scholars, and his intelligence has compassed all knowledge. He is familiar with the supernatural as with the natural. On my way, I visited him…. Know thou next, O Emir, I too have had occasion to make inquiries of the future. The vulgar would call me an astrologer—not a professional practising for profit, but an adept seeking information because it lifts me so much nearer Allah and his sublimest mysteries. Very lately I found a celestial horoscope announcing a change in the status of the world. The masterful waves, as you may know, have for many ages flowed from the West; but now, the old Roman impetus having at last spent itself, a refluence is to set in, and the East in its turn pour a dominating flood upon the West. The determining stars have slipped their influences. They are in motion. Constantinople is doomed! “
The guest drew a quick breath. Understanding was flooding him with light.
“And now, O Emir, say, if the revelation had Stopped there—stopped, I mean, with the overthrow of the Christian capital—wouldst thou have been satisfied with it?”
“No, by Allah, no!”
“Further, Emir. The stars being communicable yet, what wouldst thou have asked them next?”
“I would not have rested until I had from them the name of him who is to be leader in the movement.”
The Mystic smiled at the young man’s fervor.
“Thou hast saved me telling what I did, and affirmed the logic of our human nature,” he said. “Thy imperial master is old, and much worn by wars and cares of government, is he not?”
“Old in greatness,” answered the Emir, diplomatically.
“Hath he not a son?”
“A son with all the royal qualities of the father.”
“But young—not more than eighteen.”
“Not more.”
“And the Prophet hath lent him his name?”
“Even so.”
The host released the eager face of the Emir from his gaze, while he sought a date in the basket.
“Another horoscope—the second”—he then said, quietly, “revealed everything but the hero’s name. He is to be of kingly birth, and a Turk. Though a lad, he is already used to arms and armor.”
“Oh! by Allah, Hadji,” cried the guest, his face flushed, his words quick, his voice mandatory. “Release me from my pledge of silence. Tell me who thou art, that I may report thee, and the things thou sayest. There was never such news to warm a heroic heart.”
The Prince pursued his explanation without apparently noticing the interruption.
“To verify the confidences of the stars, I sought the Magus in his chapel by the sacred river. Together we consulted them, and made the calculations. He embraced me; but it was agreed between us that absolute verity of the finding could only be had by re-casting the horoscopes at Constantinople. Thou must know, O Emir, there is an astral alphabet which has its origin in the inter-relations of the heavenly bodies, represented by lines impalpable to the common eye; know also that the most favored adept cannot read the mystic letters with the assurance best comporting with verity, except he be at the place of the destined event or revolution. To possess myself of the advantage, I shall ere long visit the ancient capital. More plainly, I am on the way thither now.”
Instead of allaying the eagerness of the Emir, the words excited it the more.
“Release me from my pledge,” he repeated, entreatingly, “and tell me who thou art. Mahommed is my pupil; he rides, carries shield, lays lance, draws arrow, and strikes with sword and axe as I have taught him. Thou canst not name a quality characteristic of heroes he does not possess. Doth Allah permit me safe return from the Hajj, he will be first to meet me at his father’s gate. Think what happiness I should have in saluting him there with the title—Hail Mahommed, Conqueror of Constantinople!”
The Jew answered:
“I would gladly help thee, O Emir, to happiness and promotion; for I see that afterwhile, if not presently, they would follow such a salutation of thy pupil, if coupled with a sufficient explanation; but his interests are paramount; at the same time it becomes me to be allegiant to the divinatory stars. What rivalries the story might awaken! It is not uncommon in history, as thou mayst know, that sons of promise have been cut off by jealous fathers. I am not accusing the great Amurath; nevertheless precautions are always proper.”
The speaker then became dramatic.
“Nay, brave Emir, the will to help thee has been already seconded by the deed. I spoke but now of lines of correspondence between the shining lights that are the life of the sky at night. Let me illustrate my meaning. Observe the lamps about us. The five on the uprights. Between them, in the air, two stars of interwoven form are drawn. Take the lamps as determining points, and use thy fancy a moment.”
The Emir turned to the lamps; and the host, swift to understand the impulse, gave him time to gratify it; then he resumed:
“So the fields of Heaven between, the stars, where the vulgar see only darkness, are filled with traceries infinite in form yet separable as the letters of the alphabet. They are the ciphers in which Allah writes his reasons for every creation, and his will concerning it. There the sands are numbered, and the plants and trees, and their leaves, and the birds, and everything animate; there is thy history, and mine, and all of little and great and good and bad that shall befall us in this life. Death does not blot out the records. Everlastingly writ, they shall be everlastingly read— for the shame of some, for the delight of others.”
“Allah is good,” said the Emir, bending his head.
“And now,” the Mystic continued, “thou hast eaten and drunk with me in the Pentagram of the Magii. Such is the astral drawing between the five lamps. Henceforth in conflicts of interest, fortune against fortune, influences undreamt of will come to thy assistance. So much have I already done for thee.”
The Emir bowed lower than before.
“Nor that alone,” the Jew continued. “Henceforth our lives will run together on lines never divergent, never crossing. Be not astonished, if, within a week, I furnish, to thy full satisfaction, proof of what I am saying.”
The expression could not be viewed except as of more than friendly interest.
“Should it so happen,” the Emir said, with warmth, “consider how unfortunate my situation would be, not knowing the name or country of my benefactor.”
The host answered simply, though evasively:
“There are reasons of state, O Emir, requiring me to make this pilgrimage unknown to any one.”
The Emir apologized.
“It is enough,” the host added, “that thou remember me as the Prince of India, whose greatest happiness is to believe in Allah and Mahomet his Prophet; at the same time I concede we should have the means of certainly knowing each other should communication become desirable hereafter.”
He made a sign with his right hand which the negro in waiting responded to by passing around in front of him.
“Nilo,” the master said in Greek, “bring me the two malachite rings—those with the turquoise eyes.”
The slave disappeared.
“Touching the request to be released from the promise of secrecy, pardon me, O Emir, if I decline to grant it. The verification to be made in Constantinople should advise thee that the revolution to which I referred is not ripe for publication to the world. A son might be excused for dishonoring his parents; but the Magus who would subject the divine