Under the yoke, p.32
Under the Yoke, page 32
go past something tells me she's plotting against the
State."
The Bey was referring to a poor old woman, sixty-five
years of age, known as Debela (Fat) Bona who passed by
the Konak morning and evening, with unfailing regularity,
on her way to church.
Stefchoff and Samanoff smiled. They explained to the
Bey that what was meant was a drug used in medicine.
" Go on, go on," said the Bey, somewhat crestfallen.
Stefchoff continued :
" My love to all your people — Sokoloff . That's all, sir."
The Bey cried :
" My love to all your people. That's quite clear. In a
word the letter smells of treason from beginning to end."
A SPY IN 1876 185
"
Yes, but there's nothing to be made of it," said Stefchoff
dissatisfied.
"
It is a trifle obscure," said Samanoff.
" Obscure ! of course it's obscure," said the Bey ;
" but
we'll make the doctor himself explain what we can't understand."
"
Yes, but it would be interesting to find out what it all
means beforehand," said Samanoff, gazing fixedly at the
letter.
" Give it to me — I'll decipher it. I've got a key at
home for all revolutionary letters." And he put the letter
away in his waistband.
" That's right, Petraki Effendi."
Stefchoff rose and bowed before taking his leave.
" Then it's all settled ?
" he asked.
"
Quite settled — for this evening," said the Bey ;
"
you
can go to bed quietly — my kind regard to Chorbaji Yordan."
Stefchoff left the Bey with a countenance beaming with
satisfaction. As he got to the door of the Konak Samanoff
caught him " up. You won't make any mistake this evening ? You'll
superintend the raid on these gentlemen," said Stefchoff.
"
That's all right — don't you fret yourself," said the spy ;
adding rapidly,
"
Kiriak, lend me a lira till to-morrow ;
I'm a little short."
Stefchoff frowned, and felt in his waistcoat pocket. " Here's a couple of roubles for you — that's all I have."
Samanoff took the money, but added in a whisper : "
Come, come, I must have more than this. If I was to
whisper a word to Stranjoff of what you've been doing today,
you'd find yourself in a pretty mess." And he smiled
ominously.
Stefchoff looked at him uneasily. "
Samanoff," he said,
"
if I hear to-morrow that Sokoloff
and his associates are under lock and key, you shall have
ten liras from me, I give you my word."
"
Right you are. Now just give me three or four piastres
small change to pay for my dinner ; I don't want to change
the roubles this evening. Thanks. Good-bye." And
Petraki turned do^vn a side street to go to the inn where he
was staying. Just by Hajji Tsachoff's house he met Pope
Stavoi, and stopped him.
" Your blessing. Father !
" And he kissed his hand.
" How are you ? How are things going with you ? Is the
186 UNDER THE YOKE
money coming in ? Which are you having most of just
now — births or deaths ?
"
"
Well, marriages, I think," answered the pope with a
forced smile, trying to pass on, for the spy's piercing look
terrified him. Samanoff grasped him by the hand, and
gazed at him " fixedly. Nice time for marriages, this, when to-morrow or next
day we may have another row." And he winked significantly
at the pope. Then, suddenly changing the conversation
:
"
Father, can you lend me fifty piastres till to-morrow
morning ? I'm rather hard up just now."
The pope's face contracted.
" A pope has no money.
I'll give you as many blessings as you like," he said, trying
to get off with this jesting rejoinder.
Samanoff looked at him sternly, and said in a low tone :
" Hand over the fifty piastres. Your son Gancho's
secretary to the committee. I've only to say one word, and
you're all done for."
The pope grew deadly pale. He took out a coin, and
left it in the other's hands, pretending to shake hands with
him.
"
Good-bye, Father. Don't forget me in your prayers."
"
Anathema," muttered the pope as he moved away.
The rain was still falling. " My boy, bring me a little live charcoal in a chafing-dish
(mangal), will you ?
"
said Samanoff to the waiter who
followed him into his bedroom.
The waiter stared at him with surprise, as much as to say :
" What can you want to warm yourself for this weather ?"
" Now then, hurry up with that charcoal !
"
repeated the
spy, taking ofi his coat, which was drenched.
The waiter brought some charcoal on a shovel, and placed
it in a pan which he drew from under the bed.
"
That's right. You may go now !
" And he locked the
door after the boy.
He then took the letter from his waistband, unfolded it,
turned the back of it — on which nothing v/as written —
towards the fire, and waited patiently. When the paper
was thoroughly heated he withdrew it, and examined it
carefully : his face was expressive of lively curiosity mingled
with satisfaction. The paper, which was quite white and
clear a moment before, was now covered with thick yellow
characters. As is well known, the letters sent by the
THE CHERRY-TREE 187
various committees were written in sympathetic ink, and
the letters were visible only when the paper was warmed.
On the other side they usually wrote a series of innocent and
meaningless sentences, so as to throw the authorities off the
scent in case the letter should fall into strange hands. But,
as usual, a secret which is known to more than two persons
is no longer a secret, and the vigilant Samanoff had long
since found it out.
The letter was signed by the vice-president, Sokoloff, and
contained an account of the decisions and plans of the Bela
Cherkva Committee.
After he had attentively perused the fatal letter, an indefinable
smile appeared on Samanoff's repulsive countenance.
He took out his pencil and wrote something on the blank
space under the vice-president's signature.
And he went out hurriedly towards the Konak.
CHAPTER V : THE CHERRY-TREE
Next morning the sun again shone forth brightly in the
deep blue sky.
The gardens were odorous with perfume, and the rosebuds
were beginning to shed their fragrance around : the
forest trees gaily crowned with white gave a festal appearance
to every courtyard in Bela Cherkva ; the nightingale's
note was everywhere audible, the swallows flashed through
the air, rejoicing in the sun's rays. All nature was full of
life and youth. Heaven and earth united to form a soulrejoicing
picture of vernal bloom and loveliness.
At that moment Marko Ivanoff stopped at the bottom of
a dark and quiet street at the outskirts of the town, and
knocked at a door.
It was at once opened by a strapping youth in peasant
dress.
"
Is it here they've brought the trunk ?
" asked Marko in
a low voice.
"
Yes, yes, master ; come in," and the lad stepped back
and pointed to a door.
" There they are, walk in."
Just then the door opened, and the first thing that Marko
saw in the room was a trunk — ^the trunk of a cherry-tree.
Kalcho, the goatherd (an old acquaintance of the reader's),
mounted on a pile of wood, was busily engaged in hollowing
out one end of the cherry-tree, which was firmly fixed below.
His perspiring face showed that the task was no easy one.
188 UNDER THE YOKE
" Well done, Kalcho, my man !
"
said Marko, watching
the process with interest ;
"
you're getting on, I see."
"
Bless you, everything's easy when you know how to do
it," said a voice.
Marko turned to the left, and saw Micho Beyzade leaning
against the wall.
Chorbaji Micho Beyzade was a short dark man, dressed
in loose Turkish knickerbockers and a woollen jacket. Like
his contemporaries, he had had little or no education, but an
active and eventful life had made him a man of wisdom and
experience. His dark, twinkling eyes gave an intelligent
look to his face, which was shrivelled up and seamed with
many wrinkles. His peculiarity, which had become a byword
among his friends, was his unbounded partiality for
politics, and his unshakable conviction that the fall of
Turkey was at hand. Naturally, he was a Russophile, but
to a fanatical, ridiculous degree. Every one remembered
how one day at a school examination he had flown into a
violent passion because a pupil had said that the Russians
had been defeated at Sebastopol.
" You're mistaken there,
my lad," said Chorbaji Micho, angrily ;
" Russia can't be
defeated, you know ; you'd better ask the master who
taught you to give you back the money you've paid him."
But the teacher happened to be there, and proved, book
in hand, that the Russians were defeated in the Crimean
War. Micho cried out that his history was incorrect, and,
as he was on the school-committee, he took care that the
teacher was never engaged again.
He Avas naturally of a nervous and excitable disposition,
and lost his temper the moment anybody ventured to
oppose his confirmed convictions. He would then flame
with passion, and use the most uncomplimentary language
to his opponents. To-day, however, he was cheerful
eno"ugh. Hallo ! Micho, how are you ?
"
said Marko courteously,
holding out his hand to the president of the committee.
" We've got a meeting on to-day, and I thought I'd come
round on my way and see how Kalcho's getting on."
" Where's your meeting to be, in the fields ?
" asked
Marko, sitting doATi with his eyes still fixed on the trunk.
"
It's to be at the Green Dell."
The Green Dell was the name given to a valley on the
bare hill to the north of the town, which was the first spur
THE CHERRY-TREE 189
of the Stara Planina. The committee changed its place
of meeting every time. That day the Green Dell had been
fixed upon.
Kalcho, heated and perspiring, continued to bore away
at the tree with a gigantic gimlet. He frequently withdrew
the tool to clear away the shavings, looked down the hole,
and went on again. The hole now reached to about the
requisite point — that is to say, a foot from the thick end of
the trunk, where the touch-hole was to be. Kalcho cleared
the shavings out carefully, peeped down with one eye, blew
through it, and looked at his visitors with an air of satisfaction.
They also rose and looked down the " cavity.
Why, it's big enough to take a ten-pound weight," said
Micho,
" but we'll fill it with shrapnel, it'll pohsh off all
the more heathens. Your cherry-tree will do marvels."
For the committee had decided that, in the absence of
proper cannon, which it was found impossible to obtain, an
attempt should be made to construct field-pieces out of the
hollowed stems of cherry-trees, bound round with iron
hoops, such as were said to have been used in the Polish
and Carlist insurrections.
Marko's face beamed with triumph. For, to tell the
truth, the cherry-tree was from his garden. During the last
few weeks, a complete change had taken place in Marko's
ideas. The revolutionary effervescence which had broken
out in Bela Cherkva had at length extended to him also.
He began by taking an interest, next he was surprised, last
of all his warmest sympathies were enlisted. If this kind of
thing was going on everywhere, as they said, perhaps, after
all, the whole of Turkey might catch fire, he thought. Was
it not possible that the knell of the Empire had sounded,
when even the very children thought only of arming themselves
? Who knows — ^who knows ? This thought calmed
his apprehensions and increased his confidence in the
future. Resolute and sensible as he was, without the
slightest imagination, at last he was overcome by the
general excitement, and began to believe. The epidemic
had extended even to that sober but honest Bulgarian
soul.
But this mental process was not accomplished in a
moment. Firm convictions are obtained only through the
influence of a whole series of facts and impressions. At first,
the autumn before when he had £ ;een the growing savagery
190 UNDER THE YOKE
and atrocities of the Turkish population, he had thought to
himself,
"
This life isn't worth living, it can't go on Hke
this."
It was the first step.
Later on, that spring, after Kableshkoff's appearance,
when he saw the excitement that reigned among the youths,
who were so resolutely preparing for a hopeless but noble
attempt, he said one day to his wife :
"
After all, who knows ? They may be mad, but the
mad succeed sometimes."
Finally at Easter, when they were talking at the cafe of
the terrible difficulties in the way of such an attempt, and
the awful consequences it might lead to, Marko said crossly
to Alafranga :
"
Mikhalaki, a man who counts up the cost of the pipers
and drummers never gets married at all."
It should, however, be noted that Marko was in reality in
favour of the preparation, but not of the revolt. He was
not enthusiastic to the last degree, like Micho, nor had he
such a blind and unshakable faith in the result of the
struggle as to risk everything upon it, like Ognianoff. Bela
Cherkva ought to be prepared, so as to repel the bashi-bozouks
when they should attack it with the inhabitants of
the numerous Turkish villages in the valley of the Strema.
It was quite surrounded by them and they already eyed it
askance. If the revolt broke out all over Bulgaria, that
would be a different matter. But who could affirm that
that would be so ? In any case, Bela Cherkva ought to be
prepared.
So he insisted on the armaments. Afterwards, time
would Bhow, he said. Three days before Nikolai Netkovitch
had come to him and related his unsuccessful attempts
to obtain the trunks of a few " cherry-trees. You can cut down my cherry-tree," he said. But
whether through human egoism or through parental solicitude,
not unnatural indeed under the circumstances, he
