“His highness the grand vizier!” ejaculated Demetrius, falling on his knees; “Calanthe!” he added, speaking rapidly to his sister, “bow down to the representative of the sultan!”
But Ibrahim hastened to put an end to this ceremony, and assured the brother and sister that he came thither as a friend.
“A friend!” repeated Demetrius, as if doubting whether his ears heard aright; “is it possible that Heaven has indeed sent me a friend in one who has the power to raise me and this poor suffering maiden from the depths of our bitter, bitter poverty?”
“Dost thou suppose that my rapid elevation has rendered me unmindful of former friendships?” demanded Ibrahim; although, had he not his own purposes to serve, he would never have thought of seeking the abode, nor inquiring after the welfare of the humble acquaintance of his obscure days.
The young Greek knew not, however, the thorough selfishness of the renegade’s character; and he poured forth his gratitude for the vizier’s kindness and condescension with the most sincere and heart-felt fervor: while the beauteous Calanthe’s large dark eyes swam in tears of hope and joy, as she surveyed with mingled wonder and admiration the countenance of that high functionary whose rapid rise to power had electrified the Ottoman capital, and whom she now saw for the first time.
“Demetrius,” said Ibrahim, “I know your worth—I have appreciated your talents; and I feel deeply for the orphan condition of your sister and yourself. It is in my power to afford you an employment whereby you may render me good service, and which shall be liberally rewarded. You are already acquainted with much of my former history; and you have often heard me speak, in terms of love and affection, of my sister Flora. During my recent sojourn in the island of Rhodes, a Florentine nobleman, the Count of Riverola, became my prisoner. From him I learned that he was attached to my sister, and his language led me to believe that he was loved in return. But alas! some few months ago Flora suddenly disappeared; and the Count of Riverola instituted a vain search to discover her. Too pure-minded was she to fly of her own accord from her native city; too chaste and too deeply imbued with virtuous principles was she to admit the suspicion that she had fled with a vile seducer. No; force or treachery—if not murder,” added Ibrahim, in a tone indicative of profound emotion, “must have caused her sudden disappearance. The Count of Riverola has doubtless ere now arrived in Italy; and his researches will most assuredly be renewed. He promised to communicate to me the result, but as he knew not to whom that pledge was given—as he recognized not in me the brother of the Flora whom he loves—I am fearful lest he forget or neglect the promise. It is, therefore, my intention to send a secret agent to Florence—an agent who will convey rich gifts to my aunt, but without revealing the name of him who sends them—an agent, in a word, who may minister to the wants and interests of my family, and report to me whether my beloved sister be yet found, and if so, the causes of her disappearance. It seems to me that you, Demetrius, are well fitted for this mission. Your knowledge of the Italian language, your discreetness, your sound judgment, all render you competent to enact the part of a good genius watching over the interests of those who must not be allowed to learn whence flow the bounties which suddenly pour upon them!”
“Gracious lord,” said the young Greek, his countenance radiant with joy. “I will never lose any opportunity of manifesting my devotion to the cause in which your highness condescends to employ me.”
“You will proceed alone to Italy,” continued Ibrahim; “and on your arrival in Florence, you will adopt a modest and reserved mode of life, so that no unpleasant queries may arise as to your object in visiting the republic.”
Demetrius turned a rapidly inquiring glance upon Calanthe, who hastened to observe that she did not fear being left unprotected in the city of Constantinople. Ibrahim placed a heavy purse and a case containing many costly jewels in the hands of Demetrius, saying: “These are as an earnest of my favor and friendship;”—then, producing a second case, tied round with a silken cord, he added, “And this is for my aunt, the Signora Francatelli.”
Demetrius promised to attend to all the instructions which he had received; and Ibrahim Pasha took his leave of the brother and the charming sister, the latter of whom conveyed to him the full extent of her gratitude for his kindness and condescension toward them in a few words uttered in a subdued tone, but with all the eloquence of her fine dark eyes.