Byzantine Empire -- History -- John V Palaeologus, 1341-1391 -- Fiction; Zeno, Carlo, 1334-1418 -- Fiction
The secretary had searched the beggars' quarter in vain. He remembered
the ruined house very well, and the crazy shutters with bits of
rain-bleached string tied to them for fastenings. There were people
living in it, but they were not the same beggars; it was now inhabited
by the chief physician of the beggars himself, whose business it was
to prepare misery for the public eye, at fixed rates. For among those
who were really starving there lived a small tribe of professional
paupers, who displayed the horrors of their loathsome diseases at the
doors of the churches all over Constantinople. The physician was
skilful in his way, and though he preferred a real cripple, or a real
sore for his art to improve upon, he could produce the semblance of
either on sound limbs and a whole skin, though the process was
expensive. Yet that increased cost was balanced by the ability of his
healthy patients to go alone to a great distance, and thus to vary the
scene of their industry. They thus picked up the charity which should
have reached the real poor, most of whom could hardly crawl as far as
the great thoroughfares more than once or twice a week, at the risk of
their lives. The sham beggar always has a marvellous power of covering
the ground, but you must generally seek the real one in the lair where
he is dying. Omobono had learnt much about beggars which he had not
known before then, and he had found no trace whatever of the people
whom he was seeking.
They seemed very far away when Zoë thought of them. She wondered
whether any of them missed her, except Nectaria, now that they had
warm clothes and plenty to eat. The sacrifice had been very terrible
at first,--it did not seem so now; and she knew that on that very
afternoon when she went home after being out in the boat, she would
listen for Zeno's footstep in the vestibule, and think the time long
till he came.
But Omobono had gathered a good deal of information about her from his
acquaintance, the sacristan, whom he strongly suspected of being in
league with Rustan to inform him when there was anything worth buying
in the beggars' quarter; for the Bokharian was a busy man, and had no
time to spend in searching for unusual merchandise, nor, when there
was any to be had, would it have been to his advantage to be seen
often in its neighborhood. So he paid the sacristan to quarter the
ground continually for him, while he was engaged elsewhere. It is to
the credit of Rustan's splendid business intelligence that the system
he employed has not been improved on in five hundred years; for when
the modern slave-dealers make their annual journeys to the centres of
supply they find everything ready for them, like any other commercial
traveller.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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