Under the yoke, p.30
Under the Yoke, page 30
"
said Ghina,
as she " laughed boisterously.
Bulgarians ? patriots ? What in the world do you
mean ? What are you baking ?
"
asked her father, angrily. "
Why, biscuit, father."
"
Biscuit ?
"
"
Yes, of course. Why not ?
"
" What do you want biscuit for ? Are you going to the
country ?
"
Instead of answering, Ghina burst into a loud giggle.
Yordan looked at her in deep displeasure. He had
never been able to endure his daughter's perpetual and
meaningless laughter ; no two persons could be more
thoroughly different than she, with her gay temperament,
and her father, with his choleric nature.
She approached nearer, and said in a whisper :
" Who thinks of going to the country nowadays ? We're
getting the biscuit ready for something quite different ; it's
for the boys."
Yordan looked at her utterly bewildered.
" What boys ?
"
"
Why, the brave Bulgarian boys, father, when they go
out on the Balkan."
" What boys are you drivelling about, woman ?
" asked
Yordan, more and more surprised.
Ghina came still nearer, and said :
" For the insurrection : hasn't the committee ordered
it?"
And she burst out laughing again.
Yordan leaped to his feet. He could not believe his
ears.
" What insurrection, woman ? what committee ? Do
you mean for a revolution ?
"
"
Yes, a revolution ! We won't have this brute of a
Sultan to reign over us any longer," said Ghina, boldly,
but she started back the next moment, for her father had
raised his stick to strike her.
The old man, quite pale and trembling like a leaf with
rage, cried with all the force he could muster :
"
What, you donkey, you empty-headed chatterbox,
you're going to make a revolution ! You're tired of your
distaff and your needle, and you must needs begin to bake
EXTREMES MEET 178
biscuits to feed all the bandits and ragamuffins in the place.
Aren't you ashamed of yourself, you lunatic ? She won't
have the Sultan any longer, if you please. There's a hussy
for you ! And what's the Sultan done to you, I should like
to know ? Have they taken away your child ? Have you
been oppressed in any way ? She's ready to let her house
and child go to rack and ruin, but she must pull down the
Sultan ! And what are you thinking of all the time, you
miserable creature ? Are you of the same mind ? Are you
going to follow the flag too ?
" asked Yordan sneeringly of
Ghenko, who was looking on, terrified, from the door.
Ghenko Ghenkin stammered out something, and fled
back towards the house. Ghina was already taking off
her apron and arranging her dress, for she saw that her
father's shouts had attracted the neighbours. When she
saw Ghenko she caught up a slipper and seized him by the
throat.
" You good-for-nothing ! what do you mean by saying I
was baking ?
"
Ghenko, in the proud consciousness of his dignity as a
husband, did not condescend to answer his wife, but
managed to escape her grasp and ran into the room.
Locking the door securely, he breathed again, now that he
had placed that rampart between his back and his wife's
slipper, and cried triumphantly :
" Hit me now, if you can ! I'm your husband and you're
my wife. Just let me see you hit me !
"
But Ghina was not listening to him. She had gone out
into the courtyard, because her father had gone away
excited and angry.
When he got home he was much exhausted. He passed
through the yard panting with fatigue, and sat down to rest
on the bottom step of the staircase.
Chorbaji Yordan was utterly amazed by what he had
heard. True, though he had long been confined to the
house, yet some rumours had reached even to his ears.
The secret of a forthcoming insurrection was everybody's
property — even the deaf had heard of it. It was supposed
to be in preparation somewhere towards Panaghiourishte,
among the mountains and the woods, according to what
Yordan had heard, so the flames would break out far
enough away from his roof. But to-day, from what his
feather-brained daughter had told him, he saw that Bela
174 UNDER THE YOKE
Cherkva was also on the point of an eruption. What could
the Turks be about ? Were they deaf or blind, not to see
how the Empire w^as being undermined ? he thought.
On his right he heard children's voices. They came
from a window, a little over his head, by which the cellar
was lighted. Yordan rose and began to go upstairs. As
he reached the third step he mechanically stopped and
looked in at the window. There he saw his two youngest
children, of whom the eldest was but thirteen years old,
standing by a bright fire, and busily concocting something.
So deeply were they absorbed by their task that they did
not notice their father's head peering in.
One of the boys was holding an iron saucepan over the
fire, and watching its contents with the greatest attention ;
the other boy was taking from it with a kind of shovel
certain dark lumps, of which there was already a whole
heap in front of them. They w ere busily engaged in making
bullets : one of them was melting the lead in the saucepan,
the other held the mould.
" You young thieves — you vagabonds !
"
cried Yordan,
the moment he saw what his sons were about, as he turned
back, shaking his stick at them.
The boys hurriedly left their laboratory, and fled like
the wind out of the cellar into the street, where they disapp"
eared.
They've ruined me, the thieves — the murderers — curses
on them ; they're getting ready for the revolution too !
"
cried Yordan, as he hurried upstairs rapidly, for anger had
galvanised his muscles.
On the verandah upstairs he met his wife in deep mourning.
"
What, Dona, aren't you in it too?
" he asked with a look
of suspicion.
" The whole family's gone mad — they'll ruin
me — they'll break iny heart, at my time of life, too !
"
He gasped, quite exhausted.
His wife looked at him in amazement.
"
Pencho, Pencho !
"
he cried,
"
what's become of him ?
I want to see what he's about. If the little ones are making
bullets, he must be casting cannon-balls — a set of rascals !
"
" He's not here," said his wife ;
" he's gone to K."
" What the devil is he doing there ?
"
"
Perhaps he's gone to take the £ 100 to the tanner."
" What ! to Tossoun Bey ? He was to have gone toFATHER-
IN-LAW AND SON-IN-LAW 176
morrow. What does he mean by going without asking
leave first ?".
And Chorbaji Yordan went to his desk. He opened it
hurriedly and began to fumble in the drawers among the
books and papers. But the money-bag was not there.
Instead of it he came upon a Lefaucheux revolver among
the" papers. What's this pistol doing here ? Whose is it ? Who's
been meddhng with my desk ? I'm looking for my moneybag
and in its place I find a revolver !
"
" You know no one ever touches your desk except yourself
and Pencho," observed his wife.
"
There's a scoundrelly son for you — there's a vagabond !
I'll never make a man of him. He's an enemy of the
State, a revolutionary, if you please. Not a doubt of it :
he must have persuaded the little ones to make bullets. All
of 'em at work : all busy weaving the rope for their own
necks ! What's the meaning of all this infernal nonsense,
eh ? Why, every one'll become a rebel, down to the very
cats, if this goes on ! Where's Kiriak ?
"
" He's here, making up the bundles."
Yordan went hastily towards the room where Stefchoff
was.
CHAPTER III : FATHER-IN-LAW AND
SON-IN-LAW
Stefchoff, who since his mairiage had become a regular
inmate of the house, was making up, with the assistance of
the two workmen, the bales of home-manufactured braid
ready to be sent off to the Eski Jouma, a fair on St. Gregory's
day. So as to be more at his ease he had thrown off his
coat and fez ; his face, though flushed with the exercise,
still preserved its usual repulsive expression of harsh and
unsympathetic indifference.
He let go the string Avith which he was fastening the
bales when he saw Yordan come in, excited and trembling,
with deep furrows on his brow.
"
What, Kiriak, are you doing there ?
" he cried as he
opened the door.
"
It seems you and 1 are the only loyal subjects
of the Sultan left in the house. Every one else, down
to the very cats, have joined the rebels ; they're buying
revolvers and making bullets . Fire and sword are being prepared
while we're sitting here getting our goods ready for the
176 UNDER THE YOKE
fair. I've been ill all this while ; but you must have
heard and seen all this, yet you go on letting me sink so
much money in these goods, in such brigand times as
these."
The two workmen went out quietly.
Stefchoff stared at him in amazement.
" What are you staring at, you idiot !
"
cried Yordan ; "
I tell you my whole family has taken up with the
' Komita,' the family of Chorbaji Yordan, the Sultan's
most faithful subject, the friend of Kaimmakams and
Pashas. What do you suppose common people are about,
if my relations have become insurgents ? A set of ruffians
are busy forming committees under our very noses, and we
stand looking about us like a parcel of fools !
"
And Chorbaji Yordan, with his anger increasing every
moment, began to recount the discoveries he had made
that " day. You must have known this kind of thing was going on ;
what do you mean by not mentioning a word of it to me all
this time ?
"
"
I didn't want to trouble you while you were ill."
" Have you spoken to the Bey about it ?
"
It should be noticed that although the secret was common
property, Stefchoff was the very man who knew least about
it, partly because everybody avoided mentioning the insurrection
before him, and partly because he himseK despised
the whole business, and did not seek to conceal his contempt
for the patriots and their proceedings.
Stefchoff's face flamed with sudden anger. "
I'll tell the Bey all about the scoundrels this very day !
"
he cried, enraged. " You ought to have done so long ago !
"
"
They meet in Beyzade's garden. Let the police seize
them there and examine them. After a couple of hundred
blows from the stick they'll confess their mother's milk.
You're right, I ought to have stopped these rascally plots
against the State long ago, and I would have done so, but
for all the trouble we've had. If anybody isn't satisfied with
the government here, let him go off to Russia withjthe
teacher Klimet; don't let them try and bum our houses
down." '
r
Stefchoff opened the door and whispered for a moment to
some one outside.
FATHER-IN-LAW AND SON-IN-LAW 177
" Do you know who the fools are ?
"
"
Sokoloff's the leader of them," said Stefchoff, his face
flushed with maUce. In his hatred against the doctor was
mingled a burning, fiery jealousy ; it was the only way in
which that stony heart could be affected by love for the
dep"arted. What ? is that scoundrel still at it ?
"
Stefchoff went to his coat and took something from the
pocket.
Yordan watched him attentively.
" Here's a letter I found in the street yesterday, just by
your house."
" What letter is it ?
"
"
It's signed by Sokoloff, and addressed to some vagabond
of the same kind at Panaghiourishte." " What's it all about ? Fire and sword and aU that sort
of thing ?
"
" Not at all, it's quite innocent in appearance, but I'll
take my oath it's all got some hidden meaning," said
Stefchoff, putting the letter away carefully.
"
However,
Samanoff will tell us what it all means, he's such a
sleuth-hound, he'd scent out a rebel a thousand yards
off."
Downstairs Yordan's wife was superintending the preparations
for dinner.
At that moment Ghina came in. Her mother at once
proceeded to vent her rage upon her for having so angered
her father.
" What are you angry about, mother ? You ought to be
pleased. The Chorbajis ought to be the first to give the
exa"mple."
Silence, Ghina !
" screamed her mother. " You're
mad ! I won't listen to you !
"
" I'm not mad, but I'm a Bulgarian and a patriot !
"
retorted Ghina, boldly. "
Bulgarian and patriot ? Is that why you beat your
husband every day of your life ?
"
"
I beat him because he's my master. That's another
matter altogether ; that's a matter of internal policy."
" You fool ! Do you want to be more Bulgarian than
your father ? If he was to find out that you get newspapers
from Sokoloff to read, he'd beat you to a jelly, for all that
you're forty years old."
M
178 UNDER THE YOKE
"
Mother, it's not true ! I was thirty-five last Christmas.
I ought to know how old I am."
But this dialogue was interrupted by the " servant-girl.
Mrs. Dona, will you come upstairs ? Father Yordan is
worse," she said anxiously. " There you are — I told you so. My God !
"
cried his
wife, as she hurried to her husband, leaving her saucepan
on the fire.
As she ran upstairs she heard Yordan's cries of pain. He
had suddenly been taken with colic in the room upstairs,
and was writhing and tossing with anguish on the floor.
His face was distorted and convulsed : loud and despairing
groans issued from between the old man's clenched teeth,
without, however, assuaging his sufferings : they filled the
