CHAPTER XXXVIII.
_How we hear Moll's sweet voice through the walls of her prison, andspeak two words with her though almost to our undoing._
Having written his letter, Sidi ben Ahmed proposed that Mrs. Godwinshould await the return of Moll before setting out for England, verygraciously offering her the hospitality of his house meanwhile, and thisoffer she willingly accepted. And now, there being no reason for mystaying in Elche, Dawson gladly agreed I should accompany him, the moreso as I knew more of the Moors' language than he. Going down with us tothe water side, Don Sanchez gave us some very good hints for ourbehaviour in Barbary, bidding us, above everything, be very careful notto break any of the laws of that country. "For," says he, "I have seenthree men hanged there for merely casting a Turk into the sea in adrunken frolic."
"Be assured, I'll touch nothing but water for my drink," says Dawson,taking this warning to his share.
"Be careful," continues the Don, "to pay for all you have, and take notso much as an orange from a tree by the wayside without first laying afleece or two on the ground. I warn you that they, though upright enoughamongst themselves, are crafty and treacherous towards strangers, whomthey regard as their natural enemies; and they will tempt you to breakthe law either by provoking a quarrel, or putting you to some unlawfulpractice, that they may annul your firman and claim you as convictedoutlaws for their slaves. For stealing a pullet I have seen the fleshbeaten off the soles of an English sailor's feet, and he and hiscompanions condemned to slavery for life."
"I'll lay a dozen fleeces on the ground for every sour orange I maytake," says Dawson. "And as for quarrelling, a Turk shall pull my nosebefore ever a curse shall pass my lips."
With these and other exhortations and promises, we parted, and lyingaboard that night, we set sail by daybreak the next morning, having avery fair gale off the land; and no ships in the world being better thanthese galleys for swiftness, we made an excellent good passage, so thatere we conceived ourselves half over the voyage, we sighted Algerlooking like nothing but a great chalk quarry for the white houses builtup the side of the hill.
We landed at the mole, which is a splendid construction some fifteenhundred feet or thereabouts in length (with the forts), forming abeautiful terrace walk supported by arches, beneath which large,splendid magazines, all the most handsome in the world, I think. Thenceour captain led us to the Cassanabah, a huge, heavy, square, brickbuilding, surrounded by high, massive walls and defended by a hundredpieces of ordnance, cannons, and mortars, all told. Here the Dey orBashaw lives with his family, and below are many roomy offices for thedischarge of business. Our captain takes us into a vast waiting-hallwhere over a hundred Moors were patiently attending an audience of theDey's minister, and there we also might have lingered the whole day andgone away at night unsatisfied (as many of these Moors do, day afterday, but that counts for nothing with these enduring people), but havinga hint from our friend we found occasion to slip a ducat in the hand ofa go-between officer, who straightway led us to his master. Our captainhaving presented us, with all the usual ceremonies, the grandee takesour letter from Sidi ben Ahmed, reads it, and without further ado signsand seals us a trader's pass for twenty-eight days, to end at sunset theday after the festival of Ranadal. With this paper we went off in highglee, thinking that twenty-eight hours of safe-conduct would havesufficed us. And so to an eating-house, where we treated our friendlycaptain to the best, and greasing his palm also for his good services,parted in mighty good humour on both sides.
By this time it was getting pretty late in the day; nevertheless, weburnt with such impatience to be near our dear Moll that we set forthfor Thadviir, which lies upon the seacoast about seven English leagueseast of Alger. But a cool, refreshing air from the sea and the great joyin our hearts made this journey seem to us the most delightful of ourlives. And indeed, after passing through the suburbs richly planted withgardens, and crossing the river, on which are many mills, and so cominginto the plain of Mettegia, there is such an abundance of sweet odoursand lovely fertile views to enchant the senses, that a dull man would beinspirited to a happy, cheerful mood.
'Twas close upon nine o'clock when we reached the little town, and not asoul to be seen anywhere nor a light in any window, but that troubled usnot at all (having provided ourselves with a good store of victualsbefore quitting Alger), for here 'tis as sweet to lie of nights in theopen air as in the finest palace elsewhere. Late as it was, however, wecould not dispose ourselves to sleep before we had gone all round thetown to satisfy our curiosity. At the further extremity we spied abuilding looking very majestic in the moonlight, with a large gardenabout it enclosed with high walls, and deciding that this must be theresidence of Ali Oukadi, who, we had learnt, was the most importantmerchant of these parts, we lay us down against the wall, and fellasleep, thinking of our dear Moll, who perchance, all unconscious, waslying within.
Rising at daybreak, for Dawson was mightily uneasy unless we might bebreaking the law by sleeping out-of-doors (but there is no cruel law ofthis sort in Barbary), we washed ourselves very properly at aneighbouring stream, made a meal of dry bread and dates, then, layingour bundles in a secret place whence we might conveniently fetch them,if Ali Oukadi insisted on entertaining us a day or two, we went into thetown, and finding, upon enquiry, that this was indeed his palace, as wehad surmised, bethought us what to say and how to behave the most civilpossible, and so presented ourselves at his gate, stating our business.
Presently, we were admitted to an outer office, and there received by avery bent, venerable old Moor, who, having greeted us with muchceremony, says, "I am Ali Oukadi. What would you have of me?"
"My daughter Moll," answers Jack, in an eager, choking voice, offeringhis letter. The Moor regarded him keenly, and, taking the letter, sitsdown to study it; and while he is at this business a young Moor enters,whose name, as we shortly learnt, was Mohand ou Mohand. He was, I takeit, about twenty-five or thirty years of age, and as handsome a man ofhis kind as ever I saw, with wondrous soft dark eyes, but a cruel mouthand a most high, imperious bearing which, together with his rich clothesand jewels, betokened him a man of quality. Hearing who we were, hesaluted us civilly enough; but there was a flash of enmity in his eyesand a tightening of his lips, which liked me not at all.
When the elder man had finished the letter, he hands it to the younger,and he having read it in his turn, they fall to discussing it in a lowtone, and in a dialect of which not one word was intelligible to us.Finally, Ali Oukadi, rising from his cushions, says gravely, addressingDawson:
"I will write without delay to Sidi ben Ahmed in answer to his letter."
"But my daughter," says Dawson, aghast, and as well as he could in theMoorish tongue. "Am I not to have her?"
"My friend says nothing here," answers the old man, regarding theletter, "nothing that would justify my giving her up to you. He says themoney shall be paid upon her being brought safe to Elche."
"Why, your Excellency, I and my comrade here will undertake to carry hersafely there. What better guard should a daughter have than her father?"
"Are you more powerful than the elements? Can you command the tempest?Have you sufficient armament to combat all the enemies that scour theseas? If any accident befall you, what is this promise ofpayment?--Nothing."
"At least, you will suffer me to make this voyage with my child."
"I do not purpose to send her to Elche," returned the old man, calmly."'Tis a risk I will not undertake. I have said that when I am paid threethousand ducats, I will give Lala Mollah freedom, and I will keep myword. To send her to Elche is a charge that does not touch my compact.This I will write and tell my friend, Sidi ben Ahmed, and upon hispayment and expressed agreement I will render you your daughter. Notbefore."
We could say nothing for a while, being so foundered by this reverse;but at length Dawson says in a piteous voice:
"At least you will suffer me to see my daughter. Think, if she wereyours and you had lost her--believing her a wh
ile dead--"
Mohand ou Mohand muttered a few words that seemed to fix the old Moor'swavering resolution.
"I cannot agree to that," says he. "Your daughter is becoming reconciledto her position. To see you would open her wounds afresh to the dangerof her life, maybe. Reflect," adds he, laying his hand on the letter,"if this business should come to nought, what could recompense yourdaughter for the disappointment of those false hopes your meeting wouldinspire? It cannot be."
With this he claps his hands, and a servant, entering at a nod from hismaster, lifts the hangings for us to go.
Dawson stammered a few broken words of passionate protest, and thenbreaking down as he perceived the folly of resisting, he dropped hishead and suffered me to lead him out. As I saluted the Moors in going, Icaught, as I fancied, a gleam of triumphant gladness in the dark eyes ofMohand ou Mohand.
Coming back to the place where we had hid our bundles, Dawson casthimself on the ground and gave vent to his passion, declaring he wouldsee his Moll though he should tear the walls down to get at her, andother follies; but after a time he came to his senses again so that hecould reason, and then I persuaded him to have patience, and forbearfrom any outburst of violence such as we had been warned against,showing him that certainly Don Sanchez, hearing of our condition, wouldsend the money speedily, and so we should get Moll by fair means insteadof losing her (and ourselves) by foul; that after all, 'twas but thedelay of a week or so that we had to put up with, and so forth. Then,discussing what we should do next, I offered that we should return toElche and make our case known rather than trust entirely to Ali Oukadi'spromise of writing; for I did suspect some treacherous design on thepart of Mohand ou Mohand, by which Mrs. Godwin failing of her agreement,he might possess himself of Moll; and this falling in with Dawson'swishes, we set out to return to Alger forthwith. But getting to Algerhalf-dead with the fatigue of trudging all that distance in the fullheat of the day, we learnt to our chagrin that no ship would be sailingto Elche for a fortnight at the least, and all the money we had wouldnot tempt any captain to carry us there; so here were we cast down againbeyond everything for miserable, gloomy apprehensions.
After spending another day in fruitless endeavour to obtain a passage,nothing would satisfy Dawson's painful, restless spirit but we mustreturn to Thadviir; so thither we went once more to linger about thepalace of Ali Oukadi, in the poor hope that we might see Moll come outto take the air.
One day as we were standing in the shade of the garden wall, sick andweary with dejection and disappointment, Dawson, of a sudden, starts mefrom my lethargy by clutching my arm and raising his finger to bid melisten and be silent. Then straining my ear, I caught the distant soundof female voices, but I could distinguish not one from another, thoughby Dawson's joyous, eager look I perceived he recognised Moll's voiceamongst them. They came nearer and nearer, seeking, as I think, theshade of those palm trees which sheltered us. And presently, quite closeto us, as if but on the other side of the wall, one struck a lute andbegan to sing a Moorish song; when she had concluded her melancholy aira voice, as if saddened by the melody, sighed:
"Ah me! ah me!"
There was no misdoubting that sweet voice: 'twas Moll's.
Then very softly Dawson begins to whistle her old favourite ditty"Hearts will break." Scarce had he finished the refrain when Moll withintook it up in a faint trembling voice, but only a bar, to let us know wewere heard; then she fell a-laughing at her maids, who were whisperingin alarm, to disguise her purpose; and so they left that part, as weknew by their voices dying away in the distance.
"She'll come again," whispers Dawson, feverishly.
And he was in the right; for, after we had stood there best part of anhour, we hear Moll again gently humming "Hearts will break," but so low,for fear of being heard by others, that only we who strained so hard tocatch a sound could be aware of it.
"Moll, my love!" whispers Dawson, as she comes to an end.
"Dear father!" answers she, as low.
"We are here--Kit and I. Be comforted, sweet chuck,--you shall be freeere long."
"Shall I climb the wall?" asks she.
"No, no,--for God's sake, refrain!" says I, seeing that Jack was halfminded to bid her come to him. "You will undo all--have patience."
At this moment other voices came to us from within, calling Lala Mollah;and presently the quick witch answers them from a distance, with alaugh, as if she had been playing at catch-who-can.
Then Dawson and I, turning about, discovered to our consternation AliOukadi standing quite close beside us, with folded arms and bent brows.
"You are unwise," says he, in a calm tone.
"Nay, master," says Jack, piteously. "I did but speak a word to mychild."
"If you understand our tongue," adds I, "you will know that we did butbid her have patience, and wait."
"Possibly," says he. "Nevertheless, you compel me henceforth to keep hera close prisoner, when I would give her all the liberty possible."
"Master," says Jack, imploring, "I do pray you not to punish her for myfault. Let her still have the freedom of your garden, and I promise youwe will go away this day and return no more until we can purchase herliberty for ever."
"Good," says the old man, "but mark you keep your promise. Know that'tis an offence against the law to incite a slave to revolt. I tell youthis, not as a threat, for I bear you no ill will, but as a warning tosave you from consequences which I may be powerless to avert."
This did seem to me a hint at some sinister design of Mohand ouMohand--a wild suspicion, maybe, on my part, and yet, as I think,justified by evils yet to come.
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