“What help have we!” vehemently exclaimed the Hadji. “You are a man of peace, and the guest of our host, or you should eat those words of dirt you speak. What help! We have the help of Allah in our rightful cause, and our own good swords to defend our homes; and with the will of heaven, we will show those cursed Urus that we know how to use our arms. Let them venture from their strongholds, and we will teach them a lesson they will not easily forget. Go to their camps, merchant. Tell them to come on; we fear them not. But, man, you speak false. Bosh! it is nonsense. I, too, have come from Stamboul; and the Inglis are again the friends of the Sultan; and I know well they would aid our cause if the Urus did not cram their ears with lies. There are many noble spirits among them, ready to fly to our assistance. Go to, man, you speak of things long passed. You know not what you say.”
The Armenian pedlar looked confused for a moment, but his assurance soon returned.
“If the noble Hadji has just arrived from Stamboul, I have no more to say. I have journeyed far by land since I left that city, so he, perchance, brings fresher news than I do.”
“The Hadji is right,” said the Prince. “For I too know that the Inglis are our friends, and if they would but send us powder and lead, we would be grateful, and be their friends for ever.”
“The Inglis, say you, Prince?” answered the Armenian; “you are deceived in the Inglis. They are a nation of merchants like me, and aid not a cause where they cannot make gain; some few are gallant warriors, and would shed their blood perhaps in your cause; but of what assistance would a few more swords be among a nation of warriors? No, Prince, I say, expect no help from them. Seek not to war against so powerful a nation as the Moscovite. I say not, be friends, but it is madness contending with them.”
“Mashallah!” exclaimed the Hadji, furiously regarding the stranger, “I warned you, trader, not to speak of peace with our foes, and you have again done so. Beware how you utter those words again. The Inglis are a brave nation, and I know that they are good warriors, for I have met many of them; and all who come to this country shall be welcome. But what want we more than our own arms to defend our own mountains? Speak not again of peace. Bosh! such words I spit upon;—they are vile.”
“I see, noble Hadji, your slave is wrong,” cringingly returned the pedlar. “I thought of some other Franks; mine too is not a nation of warriors like your’s, to hold out so long against an invader, and to endure, for so many years, all the miseries of war. I spoke but my own feelings, therefore let not your anger be kindled against a poor merchant, who would do nothing to offend you.”
The Hadji’s anger was as quickly appeased as it was easily excited, and he regarded the Armenian more with feelings of the deepest contempt than with any hostile thoughts. The pedlar himself appeared to have discovered that the most discreet conduct he could follow, was to keep silence among the present company.
Appealing to the Prince, he craved leave to exhibit his goods to the ladies of the family.
“I have but little to give for aught you may possess, merchant; yet as the women love to look on fine silks and jewels, you may send in your packages to the anderoon, and see if they will select any. Go now, it is late, they will soon retire to rest.”