It was his wife, the mother of his children, whom he saw lying at his feet, and the recollection afflicted and tormented him.  He rose in the night and went to Emineh’s apartment; he knocked and called, but being refused admittance, in his anger he broke open the door.  Terrified by the noise; and at the sight of her infuriated husband, Emineh fell into violent convulsions, and shortly expired.  Thus perished the daughter of Capelan Pacha, wife of Ali Tepeleni, and mother of Mouktar and Veli, who, doomed to live surrounded by evil, yet remained virtuous and good.

Her death caused universal mourning throughout Albania, and produced a not less deep impression on the mind of her murderer.  Emineh’s spectre pursued him in his pleasures, in the council chamber, in the hours of night.  He saw her, he heard her, and would awake, exclaiming, “my wife! my wife!—­It is my wife!—­Her eyes are angry; she threatens me!—­Save me!  Mercy!” For more than ten years Ali never dared to sleep alone.

CHAPTER IV

In December, the Suliots, decimated by battle, worn by famine, discouraged by treachery, were obliged to capitulate.  The treaty gave them leave to go where they would, their own mountains excepted.  The unfortunate tribe divided into two parts, the one going towards Parga, the other towards Prevesa.  Ali gave orders for the destruction of both, notwithstanding the treaty.

The Parga division was attacked in its march, and charged by a numerous body of Skipetars.  Its destruction seemed imminent, but instinct suddenly revealed to the ignorant mountaineers the one manoeuvre which might save them.  They formed a square, placing old men, women, children, and cattle in the midst, and, protected by this military formation, entered Parga in full view of the cut-throats sent to pursue them.

Less fortunate was the Prevesa division, which, terrified by a sudden and unexpected attack, fled in disorder to a Greek convent called Zalongos.  But the gate was soon broken down, and the unhappy Suliots massacred to the last man.

The women, whose tents had been pitched on the summit of a lofty rock, beheld the terrible carnage which destroyed their defenders.  Henceforth their only prospect was that of becoming the slaves of those who had just slaughtered their husbands and brothers.  An heroic resolution spared them this infamy; they joined hands, and chanting their national songs, moved in a solemn dance round the rocky platform.  As the song ended, they uttered a prolonged and piercing cry, and cast themselves and their children down into the profound abyss beneath.

There were still some Suliots left in their country when Ali Pacha took possession of it.  These were all taken and brought to Janina, and their sufferings were the first adornments of the festival made for the army.  Every soldier’s imagination was racked for the discovery of new tortures, and the most original among them had the privilege of themselves carrying out their inventions.