The stranger seized the pretty girl’s hand, and spoke in glowing terms of his love for her, of the luxury with which she would be surrounded in his house, of the wonders of the East, to which he hoped to take her, and at last Viteska consented to become his wife.  Thereupon the stranger hurried on the arrangements for the wedding, in a manner that made the most favorable impression on them all, and during the time before their marriage he lay at her feet like her humble slave.

As soon as they were married, the newly-married couple set off on their journey to Smyrna and promised to write as soon as they got there, but a month, then two and three, passed without the parents, whose anxiety increased every day, receiving a line from them, until at last the father in terror applied to the police.

The first thing was to write to the Consul at Smyrna for information:  his reply was to the effect that no merchant of the name of Ireneus Krisapolis was known in Smyrna, and that he had never been there.  The police, at the entreaties of the frantic parents, continued their investigations, but for a long time without any result.  At last, however, they obtained a little light on the subject, but it was not at all satisfactory.  The police at Pestle said that a man, whose personal appearance exactly agreed with the description of Viteska’s husband, had a short time before carried off two girls from the Hungarian capital, to Turkey, evidently intending to trade in that coveted, valuable commodity there, but that when he found that the authorities were on his track he had escaped from justice by a sudden flight.

* * * * *

Four years after Viteska’s mysterious disappearance, two persons, a man and a woman, met in a narrow street in Damascus, in a scarcely less strange manner, than when the Greek merchant met Viteska on the suspension bridge at Prague.  The man with the black beard, the red fez, and the long, green caftan, was no one else than Ireneus Krisapolis; matters appeared to be going well with him; he had his hands comfortably thrust into the red shawl which he had round his waist, and a negro was walking behind him with a large parasol, while another carried his Chiloque after him.  A noble Turkish lady met him in a litter borne by four slaves; she was wrapped like a ghost in a white veil, only that a pair of large, dark, threatening eyes flashed at the merchant.

He smiled, for he thought that he had found favor in the eyes of an Eastern houri, and that flattered him; but he soon lost sight of her in the crowd, and forgot her almost immediately.  The next morning however, a eunuch of the pasha’s came to him, to his no small astonishment, and told him to come with him.  He took him to the Sultan’s most powerful deputy, who ruled as an absolute despot in Damascus.  They went through dark, narrow passages, and curtains were pushed aside, which rustled behind them again.  At last they reached a large rotunda,