CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
A BRAVE DASH FOR LIFE AND FREEDOM.
"Geo'ge, come wid me," said Peter the Great one afternoon, with face sosolemn that the heart of the young midshipman beat faster as he followedhis friend.
They were in Ben-Ahmed's garden at the time--for the middy had beenreturned to his owner after a night in the common prison, and a threatof much severer treatment if he should ever again venture to lay hisinfidel hands on one of the faithful.
Having led the middy to the familiar summer house, where most of theirearnest or important confabulations were held, Peter sat down andgroaned.
"What's wrong now?" asked the middy, with anxious looks.
"Oh! Geo'ge, eberyt'ing's wrong," he replied, flinging himself down ona rustic seat with a reckless air and rolling his eyes horribly."Eberyt'ing's wrong. De world's all wrong togidder--upside down andinside out."
The middy might have laughed at Peter's expression if he had not beenterribly alarmed.
"Come, Peter, tell me. Is Hester safe?"
"I don' know, Geo'ge."
"Don't know! Why d'you keep me in such anxiety? Speak, man, speak!What has happened?"
"How kin I speak, Geo'ge, w'en I's a'most busted wid runnin' out here totell you?"
The perspiration that stood on Peter's sable brow, and the heaving ofhis mighty chest, told eloquently of the pace at which he had beenrunning.
"Dis is de way ob it, Geo'ge. I had it all fro' de lips ob Sallyherself, what saw de whole t'ing." As the narrative which Peter theGreat had to tell is rather too long to be related in his own "lingo,"we will set it down in ordinary language.
One day while Hester was, as usual, passing her father, and in the veryact of dropping the customary supply of food, she observed that one ofthe slaves had drawn near and was watching her with keen interest. Fromthe slave's garb and bearing any one at all acquainted with Englandcould have seen at a glance that he was a British seaman, though hardservice and severe treatment, with partial starvation, had changed himmuch. He was in truth the stout sailor-like man who had spoken a fewwords to Foster the day he landed in Algiers, and who had contemptuouslyasserted his utter ignorance of gardening.
The slaves, we need hardly say, were not permitted to hold intercoursewith each other for fear of their combining to form plans of rebellionand escape, but it was beyond the power of their drivers to beperpetually on the alert, so that sometimes they did manage to exchangea word or two without being observed.
That afternoon it chanced that Sommers had to carry a stone to a certainpart of the wall. It was too heavy for one man to lift, the sailor wastherefore ordered to help him. While bearing the burden towards thewall, the following whispered conversation took place.
"I say, old man," observed the sailor, "the little girl that gives youbiscuits every day is no more a nigger than I am."
"Right!" whispered the merchant anxiously, for he had supposed that noone had observed the daily gift; "she is my daughter."
"I guessed as much by the cut o' your jibs. But she's in danger, for Inoticed that one o' the drivers looked at her suspiciously to-day, andonce suspicion is roused the villains never rest. Is there no means ofpreventing her coming this way to-morrow?"
"None. I don't even know where she comes from or goes to. God helpher! If suspected, she is lost, for she will be sure to cometo-morrow."
"Don't break down, old man; they'll observe you. If she is taken areyou willing to fight?"
"Yes," answered the merchant sternly.
"I am with you, then. Your name?"
"Sommers. Yours?"
"Brown."
A driver had been coming towards them, so that the last few words hadbeen spoken in low whispers. A sharp cut of the whip on the shouldersof each showed that the driver had observed them talking. They receivedit in absolute silence and without any outward display of feeling. Tothat extent, at all events, they had both been "tamed."
But the stout seaman had been for many weeks acting a part. At first,like Sommers, he had been put in heavy irons on account of his violenceand ferocity; but after many weeks of childlike submission on his part,the irons were removed. Despite the vigilance of the guards, a plot hadbeen hatched by the gang to which Brown belonged, and it was almost,though not quite, ripe for execution when the events we are describingoccurred. Poor Hester's action next day precipitated matters and causedthe failure of the plot--at least to some extent.
She had gone as usual with Sally to visit the slave-gang, and haddropped her biscuits, when her anxious father said, in a low but hurriedvoice, "Pass quickly, and don't come again for some time!"
Hester involuntarily stopped.
"Darling father!" she said, restraining herself with difficulty fromleaping into his arms, "why--oh! why am I not--"
She had only got thus far when the janissary, whose suspicions had beenaroused, pounced upon her, and, seizing her by the wrist, looked keenlyinto her face.
"Ho! ho!" he exclaimed, glancing from the girl to her sire, "whatmystery have we here? Come, we must investigate this."
Poor Hester winced from the pain of the rude soldier's grip as heproceeded to drag her away. Her father, seeing that further concealmentwas impossible, and that final separation was inevitable, becamedesperate. With the bound of an enraged tiger he sprang on the soldierand throttled him. Both being powerful men they fell on the ground in adeadly struggle, at which sight Hester could only look on with claspedhands in helpless terror.
But the British seaman was at hand. He had feared that some suchmischief would arise. Seeing that two other soldiers were running tothe aid of their fallen comrade, he suddenly gave the signal for therevolt of the slaves. It was premature. Taken by surprise, thehalf-hearted among the conspirators paid no attention to it, while thetimid stood more or less bewildered. Only a few of the resolute andreckless obeyed the call, but these furnished full employment for theirguards, for, knowing that failure meant death, if not worse, they foughtlike fiends.
Meanwhile the first of the two soldiers who came running, sword in hand,towards Sommers, was met by Brown. With a piece of wood in his lefthand, that worthy parried the blow that was delivered at his head. Atthe same time he sent his right fist into the countenance of hisadversary with such force that he became limp and dropped like an emptytopcoat. This was fortunate, for the companion janissary was close tohim when he wheeled round. The blazing look of the seaman, however,induced so much caution in the Turk that, instead of using his sword, hedrew a long pistol from his girdle and levelled it. Brown leaped uponhim, caught the pistol as it exploded just in time to turn the muzzleaside, wrenched the weapon from his foe's grasp, and brought the butt ofit down with such a whack on his head that it laid him beside hiscomrade.
Turning quickly to the still struggling pair, he saw that the janissarywas black in the face, and that Sommers was compressing his throat withboth hands and had his knee on his stomach, while Hester and Sally werelooking on horrified, but hopeful. At the same time he saw freshsoldiers running up the street to reinforce the guard.
"Hester," he said sharply, and seizing the girl's hand, "come, bolt withme. I've knowed your father a good while. Quick!"
"Impossible!" she cried, drawing back. "I will not leave my fathernow!"
"You'll have to leave him anyhow," cried the sailor. "You can do him nogood. If free you might--"
A shout at the moment caused him to glance round. It proceeded bothfrom slaves and guards, for both at the same moment caught sight of theapproach of the reinforcements. The former scattered in all directions,and the latter gave chase, while pistol-shots and yells rent the air.
Instead of wasting more breath in useless entreaty, Brown seized thelight form of Hester in his arms and ran with her to the ramparts. Inthe confusion of the general skirmish he was not observed--or, ifobserved, unheeded--by any one but Sally, who followed him in anxioushaste, thinking that the man was mad, for there could be no possible wayof escape,
she thought, in that direction. She was wrong. There wasmethod in Brown's madness. He had for a long time previously studiedall the possibilities with reference to the meditated uprising, and hadlaid down for himself several courses which he might pursue according tothe success, failure, or partial failure of their plans.
There was one part of the rampart they were engaged in repairing at thattime which had given way and partly fallen into the ditch outside. Theportion of the wall still remaining had been further demolished in orderthat a more secure foundation might be laid. The broken wall here hadbeen but partially rebuilt, and was not nearly as high as the completedwall. A jump from this might be possible to a strong active man if theground below were soft, or even level--though the risk of broken limbswas considerable.
Brown had observed, however, that at this place a small tree grew outfrom a mass of rock which had been incorporated as part of the wall, andthat just below it there stood a huge bush of the cactus kind. To thesetwo he had made up his mind to intrust himself in the event of thingscoming to the worst.
Accordingly it was to this part of the rampart he ran with Hester in hisstrong arms. We have said that Sally ran after the sailor with anxiety,but that feeling was deepened into dismay when she saw him approach theportion of the wall just described, and she gave out one of her loudestcoffee-pestle gasps when she saw him jump straight off the wall withouta moment's hesitation.
Craning her neck and gazing downward, she saw the sailor go crashingthrough the little tree and alight with a squash in the heart of thewatery cactus, out of which he leaped with such agility that Sally wasled to exclaim under her breath--
"Hoh! don't de spikes make 'im jump!"
Whether it was the spikes or other influences we cannot tell, butcertain it is that Brown did jump with wonderful activity, consideringthe burden he carried, dashed up the opposite bank, cut across countrylike a hunted hare, and found shelter in a neighbouring wood before therevolt in the city was completely quelled.
Here he pulled up and set the terrified Hester down.
"You'll excuse me, miss," he said pantingly, as he wiped his brows withthe sleeve of his shirt--which garment, with a pair of canvas trousers,a grass hat, and thin carpet shoes, constituted his costume. "I'm werysorry to carry you off agin' your will, but you'll thank me for it yet,maybe, for if I had left you behind, you couldn't have helped your poorfather, and they'd have took you off for sartin to be a slave. Now,d'ye see, if you an' I manage to escape, there's no sayin' what we maydo in the way o' raisin' ransom to buy back your father. Anyway, he hasbeen so anxious about you, an' afraid o' your bein' catched, an' theterrible fate in store for you if you are, that I made up my mind for_his_ sake to carry you off."
To this explanation Hester listened with varying feelings.
"I believe, from the honesty of your look and tone," she said, at last,"that you have acted for the best, whether wisely or not remains to beseen; but I thank you heartily for your intentions, and especially foryour kind feelings towards my dear father; but now I must claim theright to use my own judgment. I will return to the city and succour myfather, or perish with him. Yet, rest assured, I will never forget thebrave seaman who has so nobly risked his life to save me. Your nameis--"
"Brown, miss--at your service."
"Well, good-bye, Brown, and God's blessing attend you," she said,extending her black little hand.
The seaman gently took it and gave it a timid pressure, as if he fearedto crush it in his brawny hand.
"I'll shake hands with you," he said, "but I won't say good-bye, forI'll steer back to the city with you."
"Brown, this is sheer madness. There is no reason in what you proposeto do. You cannot help me by sacrificing yourself."
"That's exactly what yer father would say to you, miss, if he wasalongside of us--`You can't help me by sacrificin' of yerself.' Then,p'r'aps he would foller up that obsarvation by sayin', `but you may an'can help me if you go wi' that sailor-friend o' mine, who may be roughand ready, but is sartinly true-blue, who knows the coast hereaway an'all its hidin'-places, an' who'll wentur his life to do me a good turn,cause why? I once wentured my life to do him a good turn o' the samekind.'"
"Is this true, Brown? Did you know my father before meeting him here;and did he really render you some service?"
"Yes, indeed, miss; I have sailed in one o' your father's wessels, an'once I was washed overboard by a heavy sea, and he flung over a lifebuoyarter me, and jumped into the water himself to keep me afloat till aboat picked us up, for I couldn't swim. Now, look 'ere, miss, if you'llconsent to sail under my orders for a short spell, you'll have a betterchance o' doin' your father a sarvice than by returnin' to that nest o'pirates. Moreover, you'll have to make up your mind pretty quick, forwe've lost too much time already."
"Go on, Brown, I will trust you," said Hester, placing her hand in thatof the seaman, who, without another word, led her swiftly into the bush.
Now, all this, and a great deal more was afterwards related by Hesterherself to her friends; but at the time all that was known to Sally--theonly witness of the exploit--was that Hester Sommers had been carriedoff in the manner related by an apparently friendly British sailor.This she told soon after to Peter the Great, and this was the substanceof the communication which Peter the Great, with glaring eyes and batedbreath, made to George Foster, who received it with feelings andexpressions that varied amazingly as the narrative proceeded.
"Is that all?" he asked, when the negro at length came to a decidedstop.
"Das all--an' it's enuff too! 'Pears to me you's not so much cut upabout dis leetle business as I 'spected you would be."
"I am anxious, of course, about Hester," returned the middy; "but at thesame time greatly relieved, first, to know that she is in the hands of arespectable British sailor; and, second, that she is _not_ in the handsof these bloodthirsty piratical Moors. But what about her father?Nothing more, I suppose, is known about his fate?"
"Not'ing, on'y it's as sure as if we did know it. If his carcass isn'ton de hooks by dis time it'll soon be."
As the negro spoke the midshipman started up with flashing eyes,exclaimed angrily, "It shall _never_ be," and ran out of the bower.
Entering the house, he went straight to Ben-Ahmed's private chamber,which he entered boldly, without even knocking at the door.
The Moor was seated cross-legs on a mat, solacing himself, as usual,with a pipe. He was not a little surprised, and at first was inclinedto be angry, at the abrupt entrance of his slave.
"Ben-Ahmed," said the middy, with vehemence, "the father of the Englishgirl you are so fond of--and whom I _love_--is in terrible danger, andif you are a true man--as I firmly believe you are--you will save him."
The Moor smiled very slightly at the youth's vehemence, pointed with themouthpiece of his hookah to a cushion, and bade him sit down and tellhim all about it.
The middy at once squatted _a la Turk_, not on the cushion, but on thefloor, in front of his master, and, with earnest voice and gesture,related the story which Peter the Great had just told him.
Ben-Ahmed was visibly affected by it.
"But how can I save him?" he asked, with a look of perplexity.
"Did you not once save the life of the Dey?" asked Foster.
"I did. How came you to know that?"
"I heard it from Peter the Great, who aided you on the occasion. And hetold me that the Dey has often since then offered to do you some goodturn, but that you have always declined."
"That is true," said Ben-Ahmed, with the look of a man into whose mind anew idea had been introduced.
"Yes, something may be done in that way, and it would grieve me that thefather of my poor little Hester should die. I will try. Go, have myhorse saddled, and send Peter to me."
Our midshipman bounded rather than rose from the floor, and uttered anirresistible, "God bless you," as he vanished through the doorway on hiserrand.
"Peter," he cried--encountering that worthy
as he ran--"we'll manage it!Go to Ben-Ahmed! He wants you--quick! I'm off to fetch his horse."
Foster was much too anxious to have the thing done quickly to give theorder to the head groom. He ran direct to the stable, and, choosing thefleetest of the Moor's Arab steeds, quickly put on its crimson saddle,with its un-European peaks before and behind, and the other gay portionsof harness with which Easterns are wont to caparison their horses.
In a wonderfully short space of time he had the steed round to the frontdoor, and sent another slave to tell his master that it was ready.
The Moor had also caparisoned himself, if we may say so, for theintended visit, and he had evidently done it in haste. Nevertheless,his gait was stately, and his movements were slow, as he gravely mountedthe horse and rode away. The impatience of the middy was somewhatrelieved, however, when he saw that Ben-Ahmed, on reaching the mainroad, put spurs to his horse, and rode towards the city at full gallop.
The Middy and the Moors: An Algerine Story Page 14
