The Circassian Chief: A Romance of RussiaKingston, William Henry Giles
History
The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Caucasus -- History -- Juvenile fiction
The fugitives continued their way for some time, along the dark and
narrow lanes, amid the ruined buildings we have already described, and
with which Azila seemed perfectly acquainted; never for a moment
hesitating which path to take, among the numerous turnings. They at
length paused in front of a huge pile of buildings equally dilapidated,
looming still larger and darker in the gloom through which they were
seen. Their guide passing beneath a low covered way, followed by the
rest of the party, struck a sharp blow on a small door, scarcely
distinguishable from the masonry which surrounded it. It was opened
without a moment's delay; the party entered, and after descending a few
steps, Thaddeus found himself in a small vaulted chamber.
The door was carefully closed behind them, and a decrepit old man made
his appearance, bearing a lamp in his hand, with which he scrutinised
each individual on entering. The two athletic gipsies now placed their
wounded burthen on a low pallet which stood at one end of the vault,
when Azila thus addressed the old man:
"Father! I am come to entreat your succour for one in distress, who has
escaped from the police now in full search of him. While here, he
would, you know, be in safety."
"Daughter," answered the old man, "I would refuse you nothing. I will
do my utmost for the youth's safety; but who is this other? An officer
too! what does he here?"
"He is a friend of the Wounded man, and would not quit him, though at
great danger to himself," answered Azila. "Ere the morn dawns, he must
be from hence. But now that you have granted us your hospitality,
father, we must attend to your wounded guest."
It was indeed time, as from the exertion Ivan had undergone, his wound
bled afresh; the old man, however, produced salves and linen to apply to
it; but his hands trembled with the feebleness of age as he performed
the operation, assisted by Thaddeus.
"Ay, ay, I have bound up many wounds in my day, and thought to have long
ago departed for that place where there will be none to cure. God's
will be done!"
Ivan had just strength to express his thanks, and fell back exhausted.
In the mean time, Azila had dispatched the two men to watch the
direction taken by the police, and to bring back word, as soon as it
would be safe for Thaddeus to venture on his return to the city. She
then took her seat by the side of Ivan's humble couch, watching each
movement of his pallid face, while Thaddeus was seated opposite, and
their old host busied himself in producing various articles of
refreshment, including a flask of wine; a small quantity of which
considerably revived Ivan. The old man kept moving about, and muttering
to himself, but bestowing few words on the strangers.
After a considerable time, the scouts came back to report that the road
was clear; the police having returned to their posts in despair that
their prey had escaped.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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