Lords of the World: A story of the fall of Carthage and Corinth

by Alfred John Church

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  DIPLOMACY.

  The Nile boat which had been engaged for Cleanor was lying at one of thequays which bordered a considerable part of the eastern or city shore ofLake Mareotis. The arrangement had been that it should start early inthe morning of the day following the departure of Polybius. But theyoung man purposely delayed his appearance till late in the day, andthe captain and crew, who had plenty of private affairs to occupy themfor as long as their employers chose to stay, made no complaint.

  It wanted but two or three hours to sunset when Cleanor at lastpresented himself. The captain explained that they would not have timethat day to go further than the mouth of the canal which connected thelake with the river Nile. This was false. They had plenty of light tomake the passage of the canal itself. But the passenger assented with anunquestioning alacrity which inspired the old rogue who owned the boatwith the liveliest expectations of a lazy and prosperous voyage. Bothwere, in fact, equally satisfied. The captain wanted to do as little aspossible, and also contemplated a final carouse at the Canal Tavern, ahouse famous for its wines. The passenger, who had made up his mind toleave the boat at the earliest opportunity, was glad not to be taken anyfurther distance from the city than could be helped.

  As soon as they halted for the night he summoned the old captain and hadan explanation with him. He began by asking in an indifferent tone thenames of the chief cities which they were to pass. The captain of coursehad his lesson by heart, and answered with a long list of places,adding, as he mentioned each name, the chief sights for which it wasfamous.

  "And do you particularly wish to see all these places again?" asked theGreek with a smile.

  The old man stared at him. "It is my business, my lord," he answered; "apoor trade, it is true, but it was my father's before me, and hisfather's too, and so on for I don't know how many generations. I don'tknow why I have stuck to it, for the pay is poor, but so I have. It isour way, I suppose, in Egypt."

  "The pay is poor, you say," said the Greek; "but it would be better ifyou didn't go this voyage, and had the pay all the same."

  "My lord is laughing at his servant," said the captain, staring againwith eyes more wide open than ever.

  "Not at all; the fact is that I have no more wish to see these placesthan you have."

  The captain went on staring. "Then why--?" he began.

  "My friends settled the matter for me; but I would sooner stay where Iam."

  "I understand," said the captain, closing one eye entirely, anddiminishing the other to its natural size. "I understand. You have afriend, a young friend, I daresay, and you don't think that this is agood time for a long voyage."

  Cleanor saw that the captain had his own ideas of what was keeping himin Alexandria, and did not care to disabuse him. After all, hereflected, he was not quite wrong. He nodded.

  "You are right, my lord. These cities and temples and tombs up the riverare very fine, but they will be just as fine ten, twenty, thirty yearshence. You can't say that of youth. It passes, my lord, it passes, andyou must enjoy it while you can. But what am I to say? I have been paidto take you up to Philæ, and, if you wish it, as far as the SecondCataract. I signed the agreement before a notary. He knows all about it;other people know it. What am I to say when they find me loitering abouthere and your lordship not to be seen? You will hardly believe it, butthere are positively people so wicked that they will say I murdered youto get the money without making the journey."

  Cleanor did believe that there were such people, and thought to himselfthat the captain did not look altogether like a man to whom such thingswere impossible.

  "Oh!" said he, "I will set that all right. I will sign a paper beforethe chief of the village, or anyone else that will serve, to say that Iwas compelled by urgent private business, which kept me in Alexandria,to give up my proposed voyage. You will be able to show that to any onewho may be curious enough to inquire."

  And this was actually done. The village headman was called on for hisservices, and witnessed a declaration on the part of Cleanor that hereleased the captain of the _Sphinx_ from his contract to carry him toPhilæ and the Second Cataract, and that he claimed no compensation orreturn of the money or of any part of it for the non-fulfilment of theconditions. This done, he made the captain and crew a present of a goldpiece, and saw with satisfaction that they departed to expend it at theCanal Tavern. Shortly afterwards Cleanor hired a small rowing-boat, andbefore long found himself again in Alexandria.

  As to his general plan of operations he was quite clear. There was onlyone plan of getting into Carthage. It was full of risk, but still it waspracticable. A brisk trade was being carried on from Alexandria inblockade-running. Corn had long been at famine prices in the besiegedcity. What was worth an ounce of silver on an Alexandrian quay could besold for at least half an ounce of gold in the markets of Carthage. Ifonly one ship-load out of three succeeded in escaping the Roman galleysa magnificent profit was realized. The average of those ships that ranthe blockade was not smaller; it was probably higher. The newharbour-mouth gave, as has been explained, a better chance.

  Cleanor, then, was resolved to make his venture in a blockade-runningcorn-ship. The question was, what disguise should he use? Fortune haddone something for him. The wound in his thigh had given him a limp.During his illness a slight beard and a fairly thick moustache hadgrown. These things meant a considerable change. More was effected by abrown dye which gave him the complexion of an Arab. The character thathe thought it best to assume was that of pedlar. He provided himselfwith suitable clothing and a pack, which last, however, he left for thepresent unfilled.

  As Egypt was in alliance with Rome the traders that followed thebusiness of blockade-running had to affect a certain disguise. Thecargoes were consigned to dealers in Italian ports, and the shipsthemselves actually shaped their course for Italy, and kept on it aslong as possible, so as to minimize to the utmost the chances ofcapture. The event of a passenger offering himself was rare, for thedestination of this class of corn-ships was an open secret. If, however,one chanced to come, the captain could hardly refuse a passage. If hewas exceptionally honest he might put difficulties in the way; commonlyhe left the stranger to find out his mistake, taking the precaution ofhaving the passage-money paid in advance.

  Cleanor, who had put up for the night at a little tavern close to thewater-side, picked up a little information from the talk which was goingon round him. Improving his acquaintance with a sailor, who seemed themost respectable of the somewhat miscellaneous company at the tavern, helearnt a good deal more. Finally his new friend offered to introduce himto the captain of the _Sea-mew_, a blockade-runner which was intendingto sail the following day.

  "Dioscorides," said the sailor, "is an honest man in his way. He wouldhave taken your passage-money for Rhegium, it is true, and made noscruple about carrying you to Carthage. That, you might say, is scarcelyfair. But then you are quite safe with him. He won't cut your throat andthrow you overboard for the sake of your pack. That's what I callhonesty in a sea-captain. If you want to find a finer article, you willhardly get it on this side of the Pillars of Hercules. We will go onboard at the last moment, and I will give him a hint that it is allstraight."

  The object of going on board so late was to show that the personproposing himself as a passenger had no idea of lodging an informationagainst the ship with the agent of the Roman Republic.

  On the following day, accordingly, this programme was carried out. The_Sea-mew_ was taking on board the water wanted for the voyage, a part ofthe preparations naturally left to the last, when Cleanor and his friendreached the quay. A grizzled veteran, whose face was tanned by the sunsand winds of some fifty years of voyaging, was receiving his lastinstructions from a keen-looking man, whose pale and unhealthy-lookingskin spoke of long confinement to the desk and the counting-house. Theconference over, Cleanor was introduced.

  "My young friend here," said the sailor, "is going the same way as youare. Cleanor, this is Diosco
rides, the captain of the _Sea-mew_. Youcould not sail with a better man; and you," he went on, turning to thecaptain, "will find him an agreeable and accommodating passenger." Theword "accommodating" was emphasized by a wink.

  "Good!" said the captain; "come and see your quarters. That is the lastwater-cask, and now we are off."

  He led the way as he spoke to the gangway that connected the quay-sidewith the deck. In five minutes more the _Sea-mew_ was on her waywestward.

  A little after noon, the _Sea-mew_ being now fairly started and makinggood way with a strong breeze that was almost dead aft, the captaininvited his passenger to come below. The cabin was not spacious,--forthe vessel, though carrying cargo, was built for speed, her ownershaving had in view the more risky kinds of trade,--but it was wellfurnished, and the meal that was spread on the table was almostsumptuous. The captain did not fail to observe his passenger's look ofsurprise.

  "In this business," he said, "a mina or two this way or that does notmake much odds. It is no use to save when you are going either to makeyour fortune or be drowned, or, it may be, hanged."

  "Possibly," replied Cleanor; "but a passenger is not in the same case. Iam afraid that such fare will not suit my modest means."

  "Don't trouble yourself on that score," returned the captain. "Supposewe say fifty drachmas for your passage-money, and ten more as a presentto the crew, if the voyage turns out to your liking."

  "I am afraid that you will not gain much by me on these terms," saidCleanor as he produced the money, which he had carefully made up out ofa variety of coins. He thought it safer to avoid any appearance ofwealth.

  The voyage which followed was prosperous in the extreme. A west wind,with just a touch of south in it, carried the _Sea-mew_ towards Italy,which, as has been said, was nominally her destination, with a quitesurprising regularity of speed. She seldom made more than six miles inthe hour, but she did this day and night with little variation, andwithout a single drawback. Her course lay just within view of theAfrican shore till Cyrene was sighted. Then the captain struck a boldercourse, nor did they come again within sight of land till a littleobject showed itself in the northern horizon which was speedilyidentified as Malta. Not long after they spoke a coral-fisher'sboat, from which they learnt that a Roman squadron, with thecommander-in-chief on board, had passed a couple of days before.

  "If that is so," said the captain, "I shall steer straight for Carthage.We are likely to have a clear course. It is scarcely likely that theRoman cruisers will be prowling about for prizes in the wake of theirown squadron."

  As they sat together at their supper, the only officer who messed withthem having gone on deck to superintend the setting of another sail, thecaptain said to Cleanor:

  "Don't suppose that I want to intrude on your private affairs, and if myquestions are inconvenient, or you have any reason whatever fordeclining to say anything more about yourself, don't hesitate to tellme. I sha'n't be offended or think the worse of you for it. On the otherhand, I may be able to help you or give you a hint. Now, to be quitefrank, I can't make you out. You wish to pass as a pedlar--excuse myplainness of speech. Now, you are no more a pedlar than I am; not somuch, indeed, for you have never, I should say, either bought or soldanything in your life. You talk like a gentleman. I could not do itmyself, but I know the real thing when I hear it. Now, what does itmean?"

  Cleanor had been long prepared for some such question as this. When headopted his disguise he had vaguely counted on being one among a crowdof passengers, and able to keep himself as much in the background as hepleased. In such a situation he might have sustained his character withfair success. But it was a very different thing to sit _tête-à-tête_ fora fortnight together with a shrewd man of business, who had beenaccustomed to mix with all sorts and conditions of passengers. Cleanorhad felt from the first that it would be useless to maintain thepretence, and he was prepared to abandon it if he should be challenged.But he was not prepared to tell his true story. He had devised what hecould not help thinking a very plausible substitute for it.

  "You are quite right, my good friend," he said, "I am not a pedlar.Still, I hope to do a good stroke of business in Carthage."

  "Business!" said the captain, opening his eyes wide. "I fancy this is apoor time for business there."

  "For buying, doubtless--I suppose they have to keep all their money forfood--but not for selling. That is what I am after. I have had acommission from someone whose name I must not mention to buy books."

  "Books!" repeated the old sailor in unfeigned astonishment; "who in theworld wants to buy books?"

  "Well," said Cleanor, "there are people who have the taste. There aresome very valuable things of the kind in Carthage, taken, most of them,from Greek cities in Sicily. My employer thought it a good opportunityfor picking up some bargains, and he has made it worth my while to go.You see, books are not like gold and jewels. Most people don't seeanything in them. You yourself, though you have seen a good deal of theworld, could not understand anyone buying them. I am not likely, yousee, to be interfered with."

  The sailor shrugged his shoulders.

  "Well," he said, "everyone to his taste. However, now I understand howit is that you don't talk like other pedlars. Good luck go with you!"

  The captain was right in supposing that the sea would be clear in thewake of the Roman squadron. He now matured a very bold design, whichwanted for its successful accomplishment only one element of goodfortune, an absolutely favourable wind. The _Sea-mew_ was one of thefastest sailers in the Mediterranean, and with her own wind, which was apoint or so off aft, could do what she liked even with a well-mannedship of war. The captain's plan was to hang closely, but just out ofrange, on the skirts of the Roman squadron as they neared theirdestination. This he could do without difficulty. Twenty galleyspresented a larger object to him than he to them, and he reckoned, witha confidence that was not misplaced, that they would not keep a verycareful look-out aft. If a solitary sail was to heave in sight for amoment it would probably attract no attention.

  What was wanted was the right wind, and this, to his great joy, he gotjust when it was wanted. The breeze, which for some hours had been duenorth, shifted to W.N.W. The weather thickened a little, and to make thelucky combination complete, the voyage came to an end a little afternightfall. The _Sea-mew_, which for some hours had been keeping, undershelter of the failing light, within two miles of the Roman squadron,now came up close to the rearward galley. In the preoccupation of thetime she was practically unobserved. The _Sea-mew_ was built almost onwar-ship lines, and was flying Roman colours. No one certainly supposedfor a moment that she was an Alexandrian blockade-runner.

  Two hours afterwards she was safe in the harbour of Carthage, and thecaptain--he was owner as well as master--had realized a handsomefortune. He had shipped one hundred and fifty tons of wheat and as muchbarley at Alexandria, the wheat at one mina and a half[50] per ton, andthe barley for half as much, and he now sold the wheat for eight and thebarley for five minas per ton. The crew had a fourth of the grossprofits divided between them, but enough was left to enable the captainto give up this very perilous kind of business for good and all.

  "If I tempt the gods again after this I deserve to be crucified," hesaid to his chief officer; and he kept his word.

  FOOTNOTE:

  50: A mina and a half are equivalent to £5, 5_s._, eight minas, therefore, to £28, and five to £17, 10_s._ This allows, reckoning the weight of wheat at 64 lbs. per bushel, a buying price of 3_s._ 3_d._ (about) per bushel, and a selling price of 17_s._ for the wheat, and 1_s._ 7-1/2_d._ buying, and 11_s._ selling, for the barley. The highest price paid for wheat in England during this century has been 14_s._ 3_d._ (1812), and the lowest 2_s._ 3_d._ (1895). I will not trouble my readers with the figures for the barley. Commonly it was much cheaper in proportion to wheat than it is now. (So in Rev. vi. 6 we have, "_A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny_", a penny being the Roman _
denarius_, or 9-1/2_d._) We may calculate the gross profit of the voyage at £6660 (nearly), taking the mina as equal to £3, 10_s._ 3-3/4_d._, or £5222 for the captain's share. The sum entitling a Roman citizen to equestrian rank was £4000.