In order that the reader should fully understand the stirring incidents which yet remain to be told, it is necessary for us to explain certain particulars connected with Alessandro Francatelli, the brother of the beautiful Flora. It will be recollected that this young man accompanied the Florentine envoy to Constantinople, in the honorable capacity of secretary, some few years previous to the commencement of our tale.

Alessandro was strikingly handsome, tall, well-formed, and of great physical strength. His manners were pleasing, his conversation agreeable to a degree. Indeed, he had profited so well by the lessons of the excellent-hearted Father Marco, that his mind was well stored with intellectual wealth. He was, moreover, a finished musician, and played the violin, at that period a rare accomplishment, to perfection. In addition to all these qualifications, he was a skillful versifier, and composed the most beautiful extemporaneous poetry, apparently without an effort. But his disposition was by no means light or devoted to pursuits which worldly-minded persons would consider frivolous. For he himself was worldly-minded, keen, shrewd, far-seeing, and ambitious. He deplored the ruin which had overtaken his family, and longed ardently to rebuild its fortunes, adding thereto the laurels of glory and the honors of rank.

The situation which he enjoyed in the establishment of the Florentine envoy appeared to him the stepping-stone to the attainment of these objects, but the embassy had not been long settled at Constantinople, when Alessandro found that his master was one who, being ignorant himself, was jealous of the talents displayed by others. Great interest had alone procured the envoy the post which he held as negotiator plenipotentiary with the Ottoman Porte, on behalf of the Republic of Florence; and the Turkish reis-effendi, or minister of foreign affairs, soon perceived that the Christian embassador was quite incompetent to enter into the intricacies of treaties and the complex machinery of diplomacy. But suddenly the official notes which the envoy addressed to the reis-effendi began to exhibit a sagacity and an evidence of far-sighted policy which contrasted strongly with the imbecility which had previously characterized those communications. It was at that period a part of the policy of the Ottoman Port to maintain spies in the household of all the foreign embassadors residing in Constantinople; and through this agency the reis-effendi discovered that the Florentine envoy had condescended to avail himself of the brilliant talents of his secretary, Alessandro Francatelli, to infuse spirit into his official notes.

The reis-effendi was himself a shrewd and sagacious man; and he recognized in the abilities evinced by the youthful secretary, those elements which, if properly developed, would form a great politician. The Turkish Minister accordingly resolved to leave no stone unturned, in order to entice so promising an individual into the service of the sultan. To accomplish this object indirect means were at first attempted; and the secret agents of the minister sounded Alessandro upon the subject. He listened to them at first in silence, but not unwillingly. They grew bolder, and their speech became more open. He encouraged them to lay bare their aims; and they hinted to him how glorious a career might be opened to him were he to enter the service of the high and mighty sultan, Solyman the Magnificent, who then sat upon the proud throne of the Ottoman Empire.

The more attentively Alessandro listened, the less reserved became those who were instructed to undermine his fidelity toward his master, the Florentine Envoy. They represented to him how Christians, who had abjured their creed and embraced the Moslem faith, had risen to the highest offices, even to the post of grand vizier, or prime minister of the empire. Alessandro was completely master of his emotions; he had not studied for some years in the school of diplomacy without learning how to render the expression of his countenance such as at any moment to belie the real state of his feelings. He did not, therefore, suffer the spies and agents of the reis-effendi to perceive how deep an impression their words had made upon him; but he said and looked enough to convince them that the topics of their discourse would receive the most serious consideration at his hands. His mind was already made up to accept the overtures thus made to him; but he affected to hesitate, for he saw that his services were ardently longed for, and he resolved to drive as advantageous a bargain as possible.

He was one afternoon lounging through the principal bezestein or bazaar, when he was struck by the elegant form, imposing air, and rich apparel of a lady who rode slowly along upon a mule, attended by four female slaves on foot. The outlines of her figure shaped the most admirable symmetry he had ever beheld; and though her countenance was concealed by a thick veil, in accordance with the custom of the East, yet he seemed to have been impressed with an instinctive conviction that the face beneath that invidious covering was eminently beautiful. Moreover, the eyes whose glances flashed through the two holes which were formed in the veil so as to permit the enjoyment of the faculty of sight, were gloriously brilliant, yet black as jet. Once, too, when the lady raised her delicate white hand, sparkling with jewels, to arrange the folds of that hated veil, Alessandro caught a rapid, evanescent glimpse of a neck as white as snow.

The little procession stopped at the door of a merchant’s shop in the bazaar; the slaves assisted the lady to dismount, and she entered the warehouse, followed by her dependents, the mule being left in charge of one of the numerous porters who thronged in the bezestein.

Alessandro lingered near the door, and he beheld the merchant displaying various pieces of rich brocade before the eyes of the lady, who, however, scrupulously retained the dense veil over her countenance. Having made her purchases, which were taken charge of by one of the slaves, the lady came forth again; and Alessandro, forgetting that his lingering near now amounted to almost an act of rudeness, was chained to the spot, lost in admiration of her elegant gesture, her graceful yet dignified carriage, and the exquisite contour of her perfect shape. Her feet and ankles, appearing beneath the full trousers, that were gathered in just at the commencement of the swell of the leg, were small and beautifully shaped; and so light was her tread, that she scarcely seemed to touch the ground on which she walked.

As the lady issued from the door of the merchant’s shop, she cast a rapid but inquiring look toward Alessandro, though whether in anger or curiosity he was unable to determine, for the eyes only could he see, and it was impossible for him to read the meaning of the glances they sent forth, when unassisted by a view of the general expression worn by her countenance at the same time.

Accident, however, favored him far more than he could have possibly anticipated. At the very moment when the lady’s head was turned toward him, she tripped over the cordage of a bale of goods that had shortly before been opened beneath the painted awning over the front of the shop, and she would have fallen had not Alessandro sprung forward and caught her in his arms.

She uttered a faint scream, for her veil had shifted aside from its proper position; and her countenance was thus revealed to a man, and that man evidently by his dress a Christian!

Instantly recovering her self-possession, she readjusted her veil, gave a gentle but graceful inclination of the head toward Alessandro, mounted her mule by the assistance of the slaves, and rode away at a somewhat hasty pace. Alessandro stood gazing after her until she turned the angle of the nearest street, and it struck him that her glance was for an instant cast rapidly back toward him, ere she disappeared from his view.

And no wonder that he stood thus rooted to the spot, following her with his eyes; for the countenance which accident had revealed to him was already impressed upon his heart. It was one of those lovely Georgian faces, oval in shape, and with a complexion formed of milk and roses, which have at all times been prized in the East, as the very perfection of female beauty; a face which, without intellectual expression, possesses an ineffable witchery, and all the charms calculated to fascinate the beholder. The eyes were black as jet, the hair of a dark auburn, and luxuriantly rich in its massive beauty; the lips were of bright vermilion, and between them were two rows of pearl, small and even. The forehead was high and broad, and white as marble, with the delicate blue veins visible through the transparent complexion.

Alessandro was ravished as he reflected on the wondrous beauty thus for a moment revealed to him, but his raptures speedily changed to positive grief when he thought how improbable it was that this fair creature would ever cross his path again. He entered the warehouse, made a small purchase, and inquired casually of the Turkish merchant if he knew who the lady was. The reply was in the negative, but the merchant informed Alessandro that he had no doubt the lady was of some rank, from the profound respect with which her slaves treated her, and from the readiness with which she paid the prices demanded of her for the goods she had purchased, Turkish ladies generally being notorious for their disposition to drive a hard bargain with traders.

Alessandro returned to the suburb of Pera, in which the mansion of the Florentine Embassy was situated—his mind full of the beautiful creature whose countenance he had seen for a moment, and whose soft form he had also for a moment—a single moment—held in his arms. He could not apply himself to the duties of his office, but feigned indisposition and retired to the privacy of his own apartment. And never did that chamber seem so lonely, so cold, so cheerless. His entire disposition appeared to have become suddenly changed; he felt that the world now contained something the possession of which was positively necessary to his happiness. One sole idea absorbed all his thoughts: the most lovely countenance which, in his estimation, he had ever seen was so indelibly reflected in the mirror of his mind, that his imagination could contemplate naught besides. He knew not that whenever he went abroad, he was watched by one of the spies of the reis-effendi; and he was therefore surprised when, on the following day, that secret agent of the minister whispered in his ear, “Christian, thou lovest—and it depends on thyself whether thou wilt be loved in return!”

Alessandro was stupefied at these words. His secret was known, or at least suspected. He questioned the individual who had thus addressed him, and he found that the incident of the preceding day was indeed more than suspected—it was known. He besought to know who the lady was; but the spy would not, or could not satisfy him. He, however, promised that he would endeavor to ascertain a point in which Alessandro appeared to be so deeply interested. The intriguing spirit of Turkish dependents is notorious: the reader will not therefore be surprised when we state that in a few days the spy made his appearance in Alessandro’s presence with a countenance denoting joyous tidings. The young Italian was impatient to learn the results of the agent’s inquiries.

“I know not who the lady is,” was the reply; “but this much I have to impart to you, signor—that she did not behold you the other day with indifference; that she is grateful for the attention you paid in offering your aid to save her from perhaps a serious accident—and that she will grant you a few moments’ interview this evening, provided you assent to certain conditions to be imposed upon you, respecting the preliminary arrangements for your meeting.”

“Name them! name them!” exclaimed Alessandro, wild with joy, and almost doubting whether he were not in the midst of a delicious dream.

“That you consent to be blindfolded while being conducted into her presence—that you maintain the most profound silence while with those who will guide you to her abode—and that you return from the interview under the same circumstances.”

“I should be unworthy the interest which she deigns to manifest in my behalf, were I to refuse compliance with those terms,” answered Alessandro.

“An hour after sunset,” said the spy, “you will meet me at the gate of the Mosque of Selimya;” and with those words he hurried away, leaving the young Florentine in a state of excited hope, amounting to a delirium of joy.

Alessandro was well aware that adventures, such as the one in which he found himself suddenly involved, were by no means uncommon in the East; and that ladies of the most unimpeachable virtue, as well as of the highest rank, frequently accorded interviews of this private nature to those men who were fortunate enough to merit their attention—such visits being the first step toward matrimonial connections. But then he remembered that he was a Christian, and the fair object of his devotion was probably of the Moslem faith. What, then, would be the result? Was some wealthy lady of high rank about to abandon her creed for his sake? or would the sacrifice of his faith be required as the only condition on which his complete happiness might be achieved? He knew not—cared but little; it was sufficient for him that he was to meet the charming being whose image had never once quitted his mind, from the first moment he had seen her in the bezestein!

Even before the appointed hour was Alessandro pacing the square in front of the splendid temple which the Sultan Selim—the conqueror of Egypt—had erected, and which bore his imperial name. At length the agent, for whom he waited, made his appearance. This man, though actually a Turkish dependent in the service of the Florentine Envoy, was, as before stated, neither more nor less than one of the numerous spies placed by the reis-effendi round the person of that embassador. Alessandro was aware of this, in consequence of the offers and representations that had been made to him through the means of this agent, and though the youth suspected that the man knew more concerning the beauteous idol of his heart than he had chosen to admit, yet he had seen enough to convince him of the inutility of questioning him on that head.

It was, therefore, in silence that Alessandro followed his guide through several by-streets down to the margin of the waters of the Golden Horn. There a boat, in which two rowers and a female slave were seated, was waiting.

“Here, must you be blindfolded,” said the spy.

For a few moments Alessandro hesitated, in regret that he had gone so far with this adventure. He had heard fearful tales of dark deeds committed on the waters of the Bosporus and the Golden Horn; and he himself, when roving during his leisure hours along the verdant banks of those waters, had seen the livid corpse float with the tale-telling bow-string fastened round the neck.

The spy seemed to divine his thoughts.

“You hesitate, signor,” he said; “then let us retrace our way. But remember,” he added in a low tone, “that were treachery intended, it would be as easy to perform the deed where you now stand, as on the bosom of that star-lit gulf.”

Alessandro hesitated no longer, but suffered himself to be completely hooded in a cap which the spy drew over his countenance. He was then conducted into the boat and guided to a seat next to the female slave. The spy leapt upon the strand, the boatmen plied their oars, and the skiff shot away from the bank, no one uttering a word.

[END OF PART I.]

WAGNER, THE WEHR-WOLF. BY GEORGE W. M. REYNOLDS. WfOZqacD/87X8QxL1v7P8m8x1otreQkYOQm8Bb2/XF70/n32G345J4vFKqVewjaJ