University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.
SELIM AND ABNER.

THE next morning all the inhabitants of Vashnor
heard strange news. The son of the governor
had been arrested on the previous night,
and thrown into prison, accused by his own
father of the crime of murder. It was reported
that a sword and ring found near the murdered
bodies had been identified as belonging to Abner,
the magistrate's son, and that on being charged
with the crime he had confessed it to his father,
and submitted at once to arrest, at the same
time revealing the name of his accomplice.

It was rumored likewise that the strange prince
Nadab, brother to one of the murdered men, had
been implicated in the crime, but on being sought,
was found to have escaped, his vessel taking advantage
of the night to sail from the port of
Vashnor.

All there stories were soon ascertained to be
true, and when the governor appeared in his
court of judgment, at the usual hour, an immense
concourse of the citizens had gathered to behold
him. It was not difficult to perceive what must
have been the sufferings of the stern magistrate
during the night he had passed since the discovery
of the ring which revealed to him the real
murderers of Osmyn and the hermit. His face,
it is true, exhibited, as it was turned upon the
citizens, the same calm and inflexible appearance
as usual, and he proceeded to the transaction of
business as was his wont, without outward symp
toms of emotion. But to those who watched
him closely, it was evident that the governor's
heart was filled with agony, for the son whom
he loved, his first-born, was guilty of an awful
crime, and the stern judge must forget in his duty
the feelings of a father.

Abner, the son, had been long known in Vashnor
as a wild and reckless youth, too much addicted
to dissipation, and consorting oftentimes
with persons in no good repute. But though
liable to the charge of much irregularity and
looseness of life, he had never until now, been
deemed capable of the commission of violent
deeds. It was evident that bad associations and
long habits of disorder had led the youth at last
to this step of wickedness which now threatened
him with punishment.

The prince of Guzan, who had been hospitably
entertained during the night at the palace of
the governor, was now present in the court,
though, in consequence of the full acknowledgment
made by the unhappy Abner, his testimony
in the case was unnecessary to the trial. From
the confession, it appeared that the governor's
son had been one of the first to make the acquaintance
of the two exiled princes on their arrival
at Vashnor. Finding him of easy and
reckless character, with but little principle, they
soon obtained an ascendency over him, which
was doubtless designed to serve their purposes in

the future. Abner on his part was flattered by
attentions from persons of the rank of Osmyn
and Nadab, and entered at once into their way of
life, which was akin to his own, giving full rein
to all kinds of folly and dissipation. For a week
or two back, he had been continually in their
company, and was a participant of the unfortunate
expedition to the mountains, on which
Osmyn lost his life by the hand of his brother.
Abner stated that the two brothers were in the
habit of wrangling constantly between themselves,
and that on the occasion of their visit to
the hills they had all disputed and quarrelled so
fiercely as to lose control of their tempers, so
that drawing their swords against one another,
an unlucky stroke had pierced Osmyn to the
heart, at the very moment when, alarmed by the
conflict, an aged hermit had rushed from his
cave to separate the combatants.

Nadab at first was paralyzed with what he had
done, but perceiving that the hermit had witnessed
all, he at once proposed to Abner that they
should kill the old man, and then charge him
with the homicide; declaring it was the only
method of clearing themselves, and promising
to the governor's son, that, as he, Nadab, was
now the only prince of Guzan (for the brothers
had represented themselves as the sovereigns of
that island), Abner should be raised to great dignity
under the government.

The weak young man assented to this nefarious
proposal, whereupon they laid hands
upon the dervish, and in the struggle with him,
dealt blows that afterwards proved fatal; but
they had not accomplished their purpose before
the appearance and assault of Selim caused them
to take to flight, not, however, till the governor's
son had been disarmed, and deprived of a finger,
together with the ring which so soon after became
the means of discovering the whole
wickedness.

And behold how Heaven had disposed these
cruel young men to become the instruments of
their own detection! In order to render their
plot completely successful, as they thought,
Nadab and Abner took steps, as soon as they
returned to the city, to give secret information to
the police that a murder had been committed on
the hills, and thus, by a measure which they
deemed very cunning, the arrest of Selim was
brought about, and the subsequent disclosures
produced which developed all the transaction.
Short-sighted indeed are the shrewdest, when
crime is on their consciences!

The wretched Abner, as he stood shuddering
before the spectators, who had most of them
known him from infancy, and as, looking up to
his father, he beheld the stern countenance that
met his, presented a picture of horror and despair.
Unlike the gay and reckless deportment
which he usually wore, the manner of the young
man now was dejected and crushed, as by fear
and remorse. His right hand was muffled with
a scarf, to conceal the loss of his forefinger, and
he leaned against a pillar of the hall, with pallid
features and trembling limbs.

And reason enough had Abner for terror and
despair. The judge who was to decide his fate,
was, it is true, his father; but there was no
stranger in the assemblage, to whose mercy he
could appeal with less hope than to the just governor
of Vashnor. A great struggle was taking
place in the magistate's breast, but to those
who knew him best, it was manifest that his
mind was settled in regard to duty. His son
Abner—his first born—must die!

The judgment fell like a thunderbolt upon the
wretched criminal. He uttered a piercing shriek,
and threw himself at his father's feet, imploring
mercy in the most piteous accents. Selim, too,
knelt before the judgment-seat, and many of the
councillors and citizens of Vashnor pressed forward
to add their supplications. But the governor
was inexorable. The doom of Abner had
been pronounced.

The prince of Guzan, shocked at the stern
necessity of justice, which seemed to compel the
action of the magistrate, could not but sympathize
deeply with the evident sorrow that bowed
the father's heart. And when, in obedience to
the governor's command, a couple of guards
drew near, and prepared to bind the hands of
Abner, the good Selim could not refrain from
tears.

“Ah, you weep, my friend?” said the governor.
“Would that tears might flow for my relief!”

Then, descending from his chair, the magistrate
approached poor Abner who stretched out
his pinioned hands to embrace him. For a moment
the father and son remained locked in each
other's arms, and then, releasing himself, the
governor drew back, and making a signal to the
guards, Abner was led forth to execution.

That evening, while Selim was meditating
upon the strange events which had taken place,
and marvelling at the mysterious providence
which appeared to watch over his wanderings,

the old governor of Vashnor suddenly appeared
before him.

“Prince!” said the magistrate. “Deem me
not inhospitable if I entreat you to tarry no longer
upon this island. I am a heart-broken
father, though my duty to my countrymen makes
me seem a harsh ruler! The form of my unhappy
and misguided boy never leaves my sight,
and your presence heightens continually my
misery, besides occasioning murmurs among the
citizens.”

“Governor of Vashnor!” replied Selim.
“Believe me, when I assure you of my deepest
pity and sympathy. I will at once obey your
wishes, and depart from this place.”

“I know that you are not to blame in this
matter,” resumed the magistrate; “nevertheless,
the populace seem unable to attribute my poor
boy's fate to his own crime, but charge it upon
the prince of Guzan.”

“Say no more,” replied Selim. “I will leave
Vashnor, as soon as a passage can be obtained
in some vessel.”

“A ship is about to weight anchor,” said the
governor. “Prince, do not condemn me for my
apparent inhospitality, but pity the wretched
parent. Here is gold, for I know you are not
prepared with means to travel—take it, and thus
confer upon me a favor.”

Saying this, the magistrate pressed upon Selim
a well-filled bag of zechins. And then, hurriedly
pressing the prince's hand, he left the
apartment, after summoning a slave to attend
the prince to the ship which was about to sail.
That night, the prince disguised as a merchant
laid his head to rest in the cabin of a vessel, and
ere morning, was far away from the island of
Vashnor.

But hardly had the sun risen above the horizon,
when a new evil seemed preparing for the wandering
prince of Guzan. A sail appeared in
sight, which, after a while, was discovered to be
a large armed vessel filled with men, and as,
evidently in full chase of the merchantman, it
drew rapidly nearer, the terror-stricken captain
avowed his belief that it was a pirate.

“Pirate!” cried the second in command, who
was examining the movements of the pursuing
vessel. “I believe it is no other but the ship
which lay a few days since in Vashnor harbor—
that belonging to the stranger princes—”

“The princes of Guzan—ah, say you so? It
relieves me greatly!” exclaimed the captain, in
a less alarmed tone of voice.

But the information was far from relieving
Selim. He knew very well, that, if the strange
bark should prove to be what the second officer
asserted, a danger threatened himself of the most
serious nature. Nadab on board that vessel was
doubtless lord paramount, with many reckless
followers at his command. And Selim knew
that from his wicked brother's hatred he had
everything to dread.

Nevertheless, the prince's courage did not
forsake him, though he perceived that every moment
was lessening the distance between the two
ships. He spoke calmly to the merchant captain,
who now appeared quite at his case.

“What think you, are the intentions of those
who man yonder vessel?” asked he, of the
skipper.

“O, doubtless, to inquire the news from Vashnor,”
answered the man carelessly. But the
next instant a cry from his second officer brought
a return of all his previous trepidation. Selim
turned and beheld the mate pointing toward
the strange ship, which had suddenly run a black
flag up to her topmast.

“Pirates! pirates!” The cry ran from mouth
to mouth of the merchant-crew, and the captain
wringing his hands, rushed wildly to the mate.

“You said it was the vessel of the Guzan
prince!” he cried, in a trembling voice.

“And I say so still,” answered the officer.
“I can swear to the rigging and hull of that
craft out of a thousand.”

“What are we to do?” cried the captain.

“Fight or give up!” replied the mate, bluntly.

“But, we cannot fight—we have no arms, and
that ship is full of men.”

“Then we must either submit, or scuttle the
ship,” said the second officer. “I see no way of
escape!”

All farther doubt concerning the character or
identity of the strange vessel was now at an end,
for as she came looming up behind the slow-sailing
merchantman, with the black flag of
piracy streaming from her topmast, Selim beheld
upon her deck the well-known form of Nadab
his brother.

The captain and crew of the trader, powerless
to resist so formidable an enemy, slackened sail
and brought the vessel to at once, whilst the
pirate, ranging alongside, poured a fierce gang
over the decks of his prize. Sclim, on the first
attack, had drawn his sword, and placed himself
on the defensive, resolved to sell his life dearly,
rather than yield to the marauders. Perceiving

his resolute attitude, the foremost plunderers
avoided him, but growing bolder, as their numbers
increased, a dozen speedily rushed upon the
prince, endeavoring to despatch him at once,
while a score or more scoured the ship, killing
without mercy the captain and every mariner
who would not at the dagger's point swear to
join their band.

Selim made good use of his weapon, for two
fell to the deck with the first sweep which he
made of his gleaming blade. But the pirates
pressed vigorously forward, to avenge their comrades,
and the prince would inevitably have fallen
beneath their combined attack, had not his
situation at that instant caught the eyes of Nadab,
who stood at the bows of the other ship. The
felon prince recognized immediately the features
of Selim, and a cry of triumphal hatred escaped
his lips.

“Kill him not, men! on your lives slay him
not!” he exclaimed, fearful lest the weapons of
his followers should anticipate his own revenge.
“A hundred pieces of gold, if he is taken
alive!”

The pirates, hearing these words from their
leader's voice, paused a moment, and then, stooping
to avoid Selim's blows, darted at his feet, and
grasping them, threw the prince upon his back;
then, calling for ropes, they bound his hands, and
took away his sword.

This operation, witnessed by Nadab from his
secure position on the other deck, penetrated that
wicked young man with the keenest emotions of
joy. He beheld the brother whom he had pursued
with so much virulence, and over whose
safety Heaven had appeared especially to watch,
now lying powerless upon the deck of the prize,
and completely, as it seemed, at his mercy. He
could not forbear the exultation of his gratification,
by calling out to the defenceless Selim in
insolent tones:

“How now, dog; who is master now? What
power can release you from Nadab, my pious
Selim?”

“The power that ever overrules the intentions
of the wicked,” answered Selim, quietly.

“Ha, ha! we shall see presently!” cried Nadab,
laughing triumphantly. “I am king here,
you will find, my sweet brother.”

Thus the unworthy prince continued to taunt
the noble Selim, but the latter, satisfied with his
own trust in God, replied no more to his malicious
words. In the meantime the pirate crew
had slain many of the poor merchant sailors,
and dispersed themselves about the ship, plundering
her valuables and destroying her cargo.

The merchant vessel was laden with great
stores of spices and fruits, but the object of the
marauders was money or jewels, and having possessed
themselves of all such that they could lay
their hands upon, the signal for recall was made,
and they returned to their own vessel, after first
setting fire to the prize. Selim, pinioned and
helpless, was conveyed over the vessel's side,
and carried to the pirate's deck, where stood his
brother, in all arrogance and authority; and the
lashings which had connected the two barks being
presently cast off, a wide gap of water soon
separated them. The pirate shot ahead, and the
merchantman, wreathed in smoke and flame, fell
far astern.

It was now noonday, and the high sun poured
its vertical rays down on the unsheltered head of
Selim, who was left tied upon the burning
planks, whilst Nadab retired to his cabin to carouse
with his comrades over this their first entire
success in the piratical course on which they
had entered. Very soon the prince could, hear
the sound of uproarous laughter, mingled with
blasphemous words and ribald songs, and he
knew that the captain and crew were revelling
below.

“O, my father!” murmured Selim; “O, venerable
sire! how is thy memory dishonored in
the conduct of my wretched brother! Merciful
Allah, harden not his heart so terribly! O, may
he repent of his crimes!”

But little hope of repentance on his brother's
part could Selim cherish, when he remembered
the long-pursued schemes of wickedness in which
Nadab had been engaged. He called to the few
mariners who had been left above as a guard to
him, to bring him a draught of water; but these
men had sought the sheltered hatchways, and
were eagerly listening to the songs of the revellers
below.

Selim, gasping for breath, began to fear that
he must shortly perish from the dreadful heat
and thirst which tortured him.

But first he resolved to make an effort to release
himself from the cords which confined his
wrists behind his back. They had been tightly
drawn and secured, but the prince's struggles
soon loosened them sufficiently to admit of his
using his fingers, when, exerting his utmost
strength, he succeeded in untwisting several
strands of the rope, so that with a sudden wrench
they parted, and he found himself free.

But scarcely had this been effected, when a
sudden shout from the helmsman, who was the
only man attentive to his duty, announced that
a sail was heaving in sight, and the cry being
passed below, was answered by a yell of drunken
mirth from the carousing pirates. Then a rush
was heard, and Nadab, followed by a score of
revellers, appeared upon the deck.

Nadab's eyes were bloodshot, his face inflamed
and his whole appearance denoted the debauch
in which he had engaged. He flourished a sword
in his hand, and staggered toward his prostrate
brother, uttering frenzied exclamations.

“Ha! caitiff! dog! slave!” he cried, making
passes as if he would cut Selim in pieces. “Now
I shall have my reckoning with you! Get up,
slave, and beg your life. Ho, one of you, bring
a whip that I may lash this dog of mine!”

Selim listened to the raving of his wicked brother
with unmoyed calmness, but he moved his
fingers nervously behind his back, so as to be
sure that nothing should impede his hands in the
struggle which he feared must come. But another
warning from the lookout arrested the fury of
the drunken prince.

“A sail on our larboard—two sails on our weather
bow,” was the cry.

“What do they look like?” cried a dark,
fierce-looking man, who now advanced and took
his station near Nadab. This person was the
captain who commanded the ship of the pirate
prince, and who seemed comparatively
sober.

“One large, and two small vessels—armed, I
think,” answered the mariner.

“Let us crowd sail,” cried the captain. “Away,
men, to your stations!” he continued, waving a
trumpet which he carried, whilst Nadab, who
had been silent a few moments, began once more
his threats.

“Ho, Selim! Selim the prince!” he muttered
savagely. “Bring me the whip—hear ye not?”

A man at this instant brought forward a long
goad, which the drunken Nadab snatched away
immediately, exclaiming:

“Now, dog, beg for your life.”

But ere the lash could descend, the prostrate
Selim sprang to his feet, and leaping forward,
grasped his wicked brother, and hurled him to
the deck. Then, snatching the heavy sword from
his hand, the brave prince fell back against the
vessel's side, and prepared to defend himself.

The sudden overthrow of Nadab, and Selim's
threatening attitude, intimidated for a moment
the entire piratical crew. But as the baffled Nadab
rose foaming to his feet, and called upon them
to slay the prince, they made ready to rush together,
and pin him to the bulwark.

Selim commended himself to Heaven, and east
one look around, as if to bid adieu to ocean and
sky. As he did so, a cry of joy trembled on his
lips; for as he stood he could plainly behold the
ships which the helmsman had descried, and in
the foremost he recognized the well-remembered
“Green Bird” of the corsair, Ali-Naro.

The next moment, the pirates attacked him,
and he struck the first who neared him to the
deck. But his object was not now to sell his
life. The sight of Ali-Naro's vessel had inspired
him with a sudden hope of eseape; and watching
his opportunity, he swept the sword which he held
with furious strength upon a second of his assailants
and then, dropping his blade, sprang
over the ship's side into the sea.

Nadab shrieked with rage as he beheld his
brother's daring act, and called for spearmen and
arehers to hurl their weapons upon the prince.
But the ship was at her speed, and before, an arrow
could be fitted, or a dart poised, Selim was
far astern, breasting manfully the rolling waves.