My sword was at my side. Drawing it, with a blow I cut the rope and
caught him in my arms. Already he was swooning, but I poured water over
his face, and, as his neck remained unbroken, he recovered his breath
and senses.
“What play is this, Prince?” I asked.
“One that you taught me, General,” he answered painfully. “You said that
death could be found. I went to seek him, but at the last I feared.
Oh! I tell you that when I thrust away that stool, my blind eyes were
opened, and I saw the fires of hell and the hands of devils grasping at
my soul to plunge it into them. Blessings be on you who have saved me
from those fires,” and seizing my hand he kissed it.
“Do not thank me,” I said, “but thank the God you worship, for I think
that He must have put it into my mind to visit you to-night. Now swear
to me by that God that you will attempt such a deed no more, for if you
will not swear then you must be fettered.”
Then he swore so fervently by his Christ that I was sure he would never
break the oath. After he had sworn I told him how I could not rest
because of the strange fears which oppressed me.
“Oh!” he said, “without doubt it was God who sent His angel to you that
I might be saved from the most dreadful of all sins. Without doubt it
was God, Who knows you, although you do not know Him.”
After this he fell upon his knees, and, having untied the cut rope from
the window bars, I left him.
Now I tell this story because it has to do with my own, for it was these
words of the Prince that first turned me to the study of the Christian
Faith. Indeed, had they never been spoken, I believe that I should have
lived and died a heathen man. Hitherto I had judged of that Faith by the
works of those who practised it in Constantinople, and found it wanting.
Now, however, I was sure that some Power from above us had guided me
to the chamber of Nicephorus in time to save his life, me, who, had he
died, in a sense would have been guilty of his blood. For had he not
been driven to the deed by my bitter, mocking words? It may be said that
this would have mattered little; that he might as well have died by
his own hand as be taken to Athens, there to perish with his brethren,
whether naturally or by murder I do not know. But who can judge of such
secret things? Without doubt the sufferings of Nicephorus had a purpose,
as have all our sufferings. He was kept alive for reasons known to his
Maker though not to man.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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