The Lady of the Shroud by Bram Stoker (book series for 10 year olds .txt) đź“•
"Sorry. But, of course, you don't understand such things." Then he went on talking before father had time to say a word.
"Let us get back to business. As you do not seem to follow me, let me explain that it is BECAUSE I do not forget that I wish to do this. I remember my dear mother's wish to make Aunt Janet happy, and would like to do as she did."
"AUNT Janet?" said father, very properly sneering at his ignorance. "She is not your aunt. Why, even her sister, who was married to your uncle, was only your aunt by courtesy." I could not help feeling that Rupert meant to be rude to my father, though his words were quite polite. If I had been as much bigger than him as he was than me, I should have flown at him; but he was a very big boy for his age. I am myself rather thin. Mother says thinness is an "appanage of birth."
"My Aunt Janet, sir, is an aunt by love. Courtesy is a small word to use in connection with such devoti
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He was clad in green—his usual forest dress—so that there was not
any likelihood of any other eyes noticing him. I took off my hat,
and held it ready to signal with when the time should come. I
glanced down at the glade and saw the Voivodin standing, still safe,
with her guards so close to her as to touch. Then I, too, fixed my
eyes on the wood.
Suddenly the man standing beside me seized my arm and pointed. I
could just see through the trees, which were lower than elsewhere in
the front of the wood, a Turk moving stealthily; so I waved my hat.
At the same time a rifle underneath me cracked. A second or two
later the spy pitched forward on his face and lay still. At the same
instant my eyes sought the beech-tree, and I saw the closelying
figure raise itself and slide forward to a joint of the branch. Then
the Gospodar, as he rose, hurled himself forward amid the mass of the
trailing branches. He dropped like a stone, and my heart sank.
But an instant later he seemed in poise. He had clutched the thin,
trailing branches as he fell; and as he sank a number of leaves which
his motion had torn off floated out round him.
Again the rifle below me cracked, and then again, and again, and
again. The marauders had taken warning, and were coming out in mass.
But my own eyes were fixed on the tree. Almost as a thunderbolt
falls fell the giant body of the Gospodar, his size lost in the
immensity of his surroundings. He fell in a series of jerks, as he
kept clutching the trailing beech-branches whilst they lasted, and
then other lesser verdure growing out from the fissures in the rock
after the lengthening branches had with all their elasticity reached
their last point.
At length—for though this all took place in a very few seconds the
gravity of the crisis prolonged them immeasurably—there came a large
space of rock some three times his own length. He did not pause, but
swung himself to one side, so that he should fall close to the
Voivodin and her guards. These men did not seem to notice, for their
attention was fixed on the wood whence they expected their messenger
to signal. But they raised their yataghans in readiness. The shots
had alarmed them; and they meant to do the murder now—messenger or
no messenger
But though the men did not see the danger from above, the Voivodin
did. She raised her eyes quickly at the first sound, and even from
where we were, before we began to run towards the ravine path, I
could see the triumphant look in her glorious eyes when she
recognized the identity of the man who was seemingly coming straight
down from Heaven itself to help her—as, indeed, she, and we too, can
very well imagine that he did; for if ever heaven had a hand in a
rescue on earth, it was now.
Even during the last drop from the rocky foliage the Gospodar kept
his head. As he fell he pulled his handjar free, and almost as he
was falling its sweep took off the head of one of the assassins. As
he touched ground he stumbled for an instant, but it was towards his
enemies. Twice with lightning rapidity the handjar swept the air,
and at each sweep a head rolled on the sward.
The Voivodin held up her tied hands. Again the handjar flashed, this
time downwards, and the lady was free. Without an instant’s pause
the Gospodar tore off the gag, and with his left arm round her and
handjar in right hand, stood face toward his living foes. The
Voivodin stooped suddenly, and then, raising the yataghan which had
fallen from the hand of one of the dead marauders, stood armed beside
him.
The rifles were now cracking fast, as the marauders—those that were
left of them—came rushing out into the open. But well the marksmen
knew their work. Well they bore in mind the Gospodar’s command
regarding calmness. They kept picking off the foremost men only, so
that the onward rush never seemed to get more forward.
As we rushed down the ravine we could see clearly all before us. But
now, just as we were beginning to fear lest some mischance might
allow some of them to reach the glade, there was another cause of
surprise—of rejoicing.
From the face of the wood seemed to burst all at once a body of men,
all wearing the national cap, so we knew them as our own. They were
all armed with the handjar only, and they came like tigers. They
swept on the rushing Turks as though, for all their swiftness, they
were standing still—literally wiping them out as a child wipes a
lesson from its slate.
A few seconds later these were followed by a tall figure with long
hair and beard of black mingled with grey. Instinctively we all, as
did those in the valley, shouted with joy. For this was the Vladika
Milosh Plamenac himself.
I confess that, knowing what I knew, I was for a short space of time
anxious lest, in the terrific excitement in which we were all lapped,
someone might say or do something which might make for trouble later
on. The Gospodar’s splendid achievement, which was worthy of any
hero of old romance, had set us all on fire. He himself must have
been wrought to a high pitch of excitement to dare such an act; and
it is not at such a time that discretion must be expected from any
man. Most of all did I fear danger from the womanhood of the
Voivodin. Had I not assisted at her marriage, I might not have
understood then what it must have been to her to be saved from such a
doom at such a time by such a man, who was so much to her, and in
such a way. It would have been only natural if at such a moment of
gratitude and triumph she had proclaimed the secret which we of the
Council of the Nation and her father’s Commissioners had so
religiously kept. But none of us knew then either the Voivodin or
the Gospodar Rupert as we do now. It was well that they were as they
are, for the jealousy and suspicion of our mountaineers might, even
at such a moment, and even whilst they throbbed at such a deed, have
so manifested themselves as to have left a legacy of distrust. The
Vladika and I, who of all (save the two immediately concerned) alone
knew, looked at each other apprehensively. But at that instant the
Voivodin, with a swift glance at her husband, laid a finger on her
lip; and he, with quick understanding, gave assurance by a similar
sign. Then she sank before him on one knee, and, raising his hand to
her lips, kissed it, and spoke:
“Gospodar Rupert, I owe you all that a woman may owe, except to God.
You have given me life and honour! I cannot thank you adequately for
what you have done; my father will try to do so when he returns. But
I am right sure that the men of the Blue Mountains, who so value
honour, and freedom, and liberty, and bravery, will hold you in their
hearts for ever!”
This was so sweetly spoken, with lips that trembled and eyes that
swam in tears, so truly womanly and so in accord with the custom of
our nation regarding the reverence that women owe to men, that the
hearts of our mountaineers were touched to the quick. Their noble
simplicity found expression in tears. But if the gallant Gospodar
could have for a moment thought that so to weep was unmanly, his
error would have had instant correction. When the Voivodin had risen
to her feet, which she did with queenly dignity, the men around
closed in on the Gospodar like a wave of the sea, and in a second
held him above their heads, tossing on their lifted hands as if on
stormy breakers. It was as though the old Vikings of whom we have
heard, and whose blood flows in Rupert’s veins, were choosing a chief
in old fashion. I was myself glad that the men were so taken up with
the Gospodar that they did not see the glory of the moment in the
Voivodin’s starry eyes; for else they might have guessed the secret.
I knew from the Vladika’s look that he shared my own satisfaction,
even as he had shared my anxiety.
As the Gospodar Rupert was tossed high on the lifted hands of the
mountaineers, their shouts rose to such a sudden volume that around
us, as far as I could see, the frightened birds rose from the forest,
and their noisy alarm swelled the tumult.
The Gospodar, ever thoughtful for others, was the first to calm
himself.
“Come, brothers,” he said, “let us gain the hilltop, where we can
signal to the Castle. It is right that the whole nation should share
in the glad tidings that the Voivodin Teuta of Vissarion is free.
But before we go, let us remove the arms and clothing of these
carrion marauders. We may have use for them later on.”
The mountaineers set him down, gently enough. And he, taking the
Voivodin by the hand, and calling the Vladika and myself close to
them, led the way up the ravine path which the marauders had
descended, and thence through the forest to the top of the hill that
dominated the valley. Here we could, from an opening amongst the
trees, catch a glimpse far off of the battlements of Vissarion.
Forthwith the Gospodar signalled; and on the moment a reply of their
awaiting was given. Then the Gospodar signalled the glad news. It
was received with manifest rejoicing. We could not hear any sound so
far away, but we could see the movement of lifted faces and waving
hands, and knew that it was well. But an instant after came a calm
so dread that we knew before the semaphore had begun to work that
there was bad news in store for us. When the news did come, a bitter
wailing arose amongst us; for the news that was signalled ran:
“The Voivode has been captured by the Turks on his return, and is
held by them at Ilsin.”
In an instant the temper of the mountaineers changed. It was as
though by a flash summer had changed to winter, as though the yellow
glory of the standing corn had been obliterated by the dreary waste
of snow. Nay, more: it was as when one beholds the track of the
whirlwind when the giants of the forest are levelled with the sward.
For a few seconds there was silence; and then, with an angry roar, as
when God speaks in the thunder, came the fierce determination of the
men of the Blue Mountains:
“To Ilsin! To Ilsin!” and a stampede in the direction of the south
began. For, Illustrious Lady, you, perhaps, who have been for so
short a time at Vissarion, may not know that at the extreme southern
point of the Land of the Blue Mountains lies the little port of
Ilsin, which long ago we wrested from the Turk.
The stampede was checked by the command, “Halt!” spoken in a
thunderous voice by the Gospodar. Instinctively all stopped. The
Gospodar Rupert spoke again:
“Had we not better know a little more before we start on our journey?
I shall get by semaphore what details are known. Do you all proceed
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