“I have come!”
“I know you not; who are you?”
“You will know me sooner than you think—one whom you once despised, one whom your scorn has made a seared and blasted thing. But I bear no malice, lady; no, I am merciful compared with you. I have come to save you. Listen! the people of Scio are doomed to inevitable, indiscriminate massacre.” A red light fell across the room. “Hah! at work so soon? Lady, do you doubt me, look! Scio is in flames! The work of pillage and slaughter has commenced. The fiends will soon be here—a boat lies moored below, in which I will convey you to a place of safety—away! away!”
“Villain! no. What means that Moslem dress? Apostate from your country and your God! If I must perish, I will perish here; not to thee will I owe my safety.”
“No! well, listen to me, and be calm as I am: mark me. ’Twas I who urged upon the Sultan the strong necessity of taking summary vengeance on the Sciots. ’Twas I who poured upon the shore these swarms of merciless barbarians. ’Twas I who ordered the burning of yonder town. ’Twas I that slew thy lover—perhaps you like me better now.”
“Miscreant! back, lay not your hand upon me. Oh God!” She caught a slender dagger from her girdle, and assumed an attitude of self-defense. “I am not so weak and timid as you think.”
“This is folly: I am wasting time.” He seized her by the wrist, and with a smile of pity, forced the weapon from her delicate hand. She fainted.
The last words of gratuitous cruelty, “’twas I that slew thy lover,” false as they were, had done their office, and Constantine, lifting her in his arms, bore her swiftly away.
As long as it was possible, Antonio, with a few brave Greeks, made head against the enemy. He saw that the enterprise in which he had toiled so long had failed, but he could not bear tamely to relinquish the field. Overpowering numbers at length forced him to retire, and he sullenly watched from a distance the landing of the enemy. From what he had already witnessed of Turkish warfare, he soon suspected the scene that would ensue. The thought of Zara flashed upon his mind—giving a few brief orders to those under his command, he hastened towards her home. What he heard and saw by the way increased his alarm. Yells and groans, and the report of musketry, rose from the city, while, here and there, the flames had begun to burst forth. Now and then, a crowd of women and children, frantic with fear, crossed his path, seeking for safety in the country. He hurries forward—the house is now in sight, but all is dark and desolate; he crosses the threshold—no one answers to his call; he reaches her apartment—it is empty.
He hastens again from the house. Following with his eye the path that led to the shore, he caught a glance of Constantine moving swiftly forward with his burden.