Michael Strogoff; Or, The Courier of the CzarVerne, Jules
History
Michael Strogoff; Or, The Courier of the Czar
Verne, Jules
Heroes -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Russia -- History -- Alexander II, 1855-1881 -- Fiction; Tatars -- Fiction
The Emir made a sign at which all the crowd bent low their heads. Then
he pointed with his hand to the Koran, which was brought him. He opened
the sacred book and placed his finger on one of its pages.
It was chance, or rather, according to the ideas of these Orientals, God
Himself who was about to decide the fate of Michael Strogoff. The people
of Central Asia give the name of “fal” to this practice. After having
interpreted the sense of the verse touched by the judge’s finger, they
apply the sentence whatever it may be.
The Emir had let his finger rest on the page of the Koran. The chief of
the Ulemas then approached, and read in a loud voice a verse which ended
with these words, “And he will no more see the things of this earth.”
“Russian spy!” exclaimed Feofar-Kahn in a voice trembling with fury,
“you have come to see what is going on in the Tartar camp. Then look
while you may.”
CHAPTER V “LOOK WHILE YOU MAY!”
MICHAEL was held before the Emir’s throne, at the foot of the terrace,
his hands bound behind his back. His mother overcome at last by mental
and physical torture, had sunk to the ground, daring neither to look nor
listen.
“Look while you may,” exclaimed Feofar-Kahn, stretching his arm towards
Michael in a threatening manner. Doubtless Ivan Ogareff, being well
acquainted with Tartar customs, had taken in the full meaning of these
words, for his lips curled for an instant in a cruel smile; he then took
his place by Feofar-Khan.
A trumpet call was heard. This was the signal for the amusements to
begin. “Here comes the ballet,” said Alcide to Blount; “but, contrary to
our customs, these barbarians give it before the drama.”
Michael had been commanded to look at everything. He looked. A troop
of dancers poured into the open space before the Emir’s tent. Different
Tartar instruments, the “doutare,” a long-handled guitar, the “kobize,”
a kind of violoncello, the “tschibyzga,” a long reed flute; wind
instruments, tom-toms, tambourines, united with the deep voices of the
singers, formed a strange harmony. Added to this were the strains of an
aerial orchestra, composed of a dozen kites, which, fastened by strings
to their centers, resounded in the breeze like AEolian harps.
Then the dancers began. The performers were all of Persian origin;
they were no longer slaves, but exercised their profession at liberty.
Formerly they figured officially in the ceremonies at the court of
Teheran, but since the accession of the reigning family, banished or
treated with contempt, they had been compelled to seek their fortune
elsewhere. They wore the national costume, and were adorned with a
profusion of jewels. Little triangles of gold, studded with jewels,
glittered in their ears. Circles of silver, marked with black,
surrounded their necks and legs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account