The Middy and the Moors: An Algerine Story

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  MYSTERIOUS AND DARING DEEDS ARE CROWNED WITH SUCCESS.

  Threading his way carefully through the badly lighted streets, our middywent straight to the Kasba, and, rapping boldly at the gate, demandedadmittance.

  "Show me to the guard-room. I wish to speak with the officer incommand," he said, in the tone of one accustomed to obedience.

  The soldier who admitted him introduced him to the officer in charge forthe night.

  "I come, sir," said Foster, with quiet gentlemanly assurance, "to demandan escort for slaves."

  "By whose orders?" asked the officer.

  "The order of his Highness the Dey," answered Foster, producing thering.

  The officer examined it, touched his forehead with it in token ofsubmission, and asked how many men were required.

  "Six will do," returned the middy, in a slow, meditative manner, as if alittle uncertain on the point--"yes, six will suffice. I only wishtheir escort beyond the gates. Friends might attempt a rescue in thetown. When I have them a short distance beyond the gates I can managewithout assistance."

  He touched, as he spoke, the handle of a silver-mounted pistol which hecarried in his belt. Of course, as he spoke Lingua Franca, the officerof the guard knew quite well that he was a foreigner, but as thenotables and Deys of Algiers were in the habit of using all kinds oftrusted messengers and agents to do their work, he saw nothing unusualin the circumstance. Six armed soldiers were at once turned out, andwith these obedient, unquestioning slaves he marched down the tortuousstreets to the Bagnio.

  The ring procured him admittance at once, and the same talismanconverted the head jailer into an obsequious servant.

  "I have come for one of your slaves," said the middy, walking smartlyinto the court where most of the miserable creatures had alreadyforgotten their wretchedness in the profound sleep of the weary. Thetramp of the soldiers on the stone pavement and the clang of their armsawoke some of them. "The name of the man I want is Hugh Sommers."

  On hearing this one of the slaves was observed to reach out his hand andshake another slave who still slumbered.

  "Rouse up, Sommers! You are wanted, my poor friend."

  "What say you, Laronde?" exclaimed the merchant, starting up and rubbinghis eyes.

  "Get up and follow me," said Foster, in a stern commanding tone.

  "And who are _you_, that orders me as if I were a dog?" fiercelyreturned Sommers, who, since the day of the unsuccessful mutiny, hadagain become desperate, and was in consequence heavily ironed.

  "The Dey of Algiers gives the order through me," replied Foster,pointing to the soldiers, "and it will be your highest wisdom to obeywithout question. Knock off his irons," he added, turning abruptly tothe chief jailer.

  The air of insolent authority which our `hipperkritical' middy assumedwas so effective that even Sommers was slightly overawed. While theirons were being removed, the unhappy Frenchman, Edouard Laronde, soughtto console him.

  "I told you it would soon come to this," he said in English. "I onlywish I was going to die with you."

  "Knock off this man's irons also," said the middy, to whom a new ideahad suddenly occurred, and who was glad to find that his altered costumeand bearing proved such a complete disguise that his old comrade insorrow did not recognise him.

  "I thought," said the jailer, "that you said only one slave was wanted."

  "I say _two_ slaves are wanted," growled the midshipman, with a look sofierce that the jailer promptly ordered the removal of Laronde'sfetters.

  "Did I not often tell you," muttered Hugh Sommers, "that your unguardedtongue would bring you to grief?"

  "It matters not. I submit, and am ready," returned the Frenchman in asad tone. "If it were not for my poor wife and child, the world wouldbe well rid of such a useless rebel as I."

  When the two slaves were ready, Foster demanded a piece of rope withwhich he fastened the left and right wrists of the two men together.Then, placing them in the midst of the soldiers, he led them out of theprison and along the main street in the direction of the western gate ofthe city. Passing through this the little party advanced into thesuburbs until they reached a part of the road beyond which pedestriansusually found it convenient not to travel after dark. Here Fostercalled a halt.

  "I thank you," he said to the leader of the soldiers, at the same timegiving him a piece of money. "There is no further occasion for yourservices, all danger of rescue being past. I can now take care of themmyself, being armed, as you see, while they are bound. Convey my thanksand compliments to your commanding officer."

  The soldier acknowledged the piece of money with a grave inclination ofthe head, ordered his men to right-about-face, and marched back to theKasba, leaving the three slaves standing not far from the seashore, andgazing at each other in silence.

  "You seem to have forgotten me, friends," said the middy in English,pulling a clasp-knife out of his pocket. "Yet you have both met mebefore when we were slaves."

  "_Were_ slaves!" repeated the Frenchman, who was the first to recoverfrom his astonishment, "are we not still slaves?" he asked, glancing atthe cords that bound their wrists.

  "Not now," said Foster, cutting the cords with his knife--"at least weshall soon be free if we make good use of our opportunities."

  "Free!" exclaimed both men together, with the energy of a sudden andalmost overwhelming hope.

  "Ay, free! But this is no time for explanation. Follow me closely, andin silence."

  Scarcely crediting their senses, and more than half disposed to believethat the whole affair was one of their too familiar dreams, yetstrangely convinced at the same time that it was a reality, the two menfollowed their young leader with alacrity.

  The reader will remember that before parting from Foster that day Peterthe Great had taken special care to ascertain that he knew thewhereabouts of the rocks where the boat belonging to Brown and hisfriends was concealed. As Foster walked along in the dark he thought agood deal about this, and felt convinced that Peter must have had someidea of the event that was likely to follow from his mission to theBagnio. But he was much perplexed in attempting to account for hisreticence in the matter. Altogether, there was mystery about it whichhe could not see through, so he wisely gave up thinking about it, andbraced his energies to the carrying out of his own little plot. Thiswas, to lead Hugh Sommers to his daughter and assist them to escape inthe boat, along with Brown the sailor and his companions--intending, ofcourse, to escape along with them! His taking advantage of theopportunity to free Edouard Laronde was the result of a suddeninspiration--a mere afterthought!

  The distance to the spot for which they were making was considerable,and at first the fugitives proceeded with caution and in silence, but astheir distance from the pirate city increased, and the danger of pursuitdiminished, the middy relaxed a little, gave his companionsinterjectional scraps of information, and finally revealed to them allthat he knew and purposed.

  Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by the sight of somethingmoving at the side of the road. It looked too small for a man, yet itsmovements seemed too intelligent for a dog or a stray donkey.

  "Stay here, I will soon find out," whispered Foster, drawing his pistol,and bounding towards the object in question.

  It ran from him, but our middy was swift of foot. He quickly overtookit, and seized firmly by the arm what in the dark he thought to be aboy.

  A slight scream undeceived him, and at the same time caused his heart tobound.

  "Oh, you hurt me!" exclaimed a well-remembered voice.

  "Hester!" cried the youth, and next moment, folding her in his arms, hekissed her--quite unintentionally, but irresistibly.

  Thrusting him away with indignation, the maiden said, with flashingeyes, "You forget yourself, sir, and take advantage of my defencelessposition."

  "No--no, indeed! I did not intend to frighten you, dear child," (in hisdesperation the middy assumed the paternal _role_). "Pray forgive me,
it was only my joy at the prospect of reuniting you to your father,and--"

  "My father!" cried Hester, forgetting her offended dignity. "Where ishe? You are alone! Peter the Great sent me here to meet him, but hedid not say I should meet _you_."

  "Peter the Great sent you here--and alone!" exclaimed Foster, inamazement.

  "Yes; he went out first to make sure that my father was coming, and thensent me to meet him that we might be alone. But Peter is close athand."

  "Ho, yis! bery close at hand, Geo'ge!" said Peter himself, suddenlyemerging from a place of concealment. "Now you come along wid me, sar,an' let dat poo' chile meet her fadder in private."

  "But she cannot do that, Peter, for Edouard Laronde is with him."

  "Who'n all de wurld's Eddard Larongd?"

  Before Foster could reply Hester had bounded from his side, and nextmoment was locked in her father's arms.

  "Come away, Geo'ge--an' you too, Eddard La--La-whatever-it-is!" criedthe negro, grasping the latter by the arm and hurrying him along theroad in the direction of the seashore, while the reunited father andchild knelt down together and poured out their gratitude to God.

  "Dey'll foller us in a minnit or two," continued the negro. "What kep'you so long, Geo'ge?"

  "Couldn't manage it sooner. But can you guess, Peter, why Ben-Ahmedbehaved in the strange way he has done? He got into a rage when Iattempted to tell him honestly, that I did not intend to go back to him,or to take Sommers to his house, and that I'd try to escape along withhim if I could, but he would not listen or let me say a word."

  "Did you t'ink ob tellin' him all dat?" asked Peter.

  "I certainly did."

  "Well, you're not half such a hipperkrite as I t'ink you was."

  "I'm glad to hear you say so, for I don't like to play the part of ahypocrite, Peter; I like to be all fair and above-board."

  "Was it all fair an' above-board, Geo'ge, to kiss dat leetle gal whenshe was all alone and unpurtected? Was it all fair an' above-board tocall her you dear _chile_, as if you was her fadder?"

  "Come, come, Peter, `everything is fair,' you know, `in love and war.'But that's not the point. Can you guess, I ask, Ben-Ahmed's motive foracting so oddly?"

  "Oh! yis, Geo'ge, I kin guess a'most anybody's motives, zough, p'r'aps,I mightn't guess right. I shouldn't wonder, now, if Ben-Ahmed will habto account to do Dey for de tottle disappearance of Hugh Sommers--to saynot'ing ob Eddard La--La--what's-'is-name--an' p'r'aps he'd like to beable to say he'd no notion o' what de man he sent to fetch de slabe wasgoin' to do. Now he couldn't hab say dat, you know, if he let you tellhim all about it--like a goose as you was. So he let you go off, d'yesee, gib you your orders so far, an' labes de rest to your good sense--zough dere wasn't too much ob dat to leab it to, or you wouldn't habbring away Eddard La--La--t'ing-um-bob."

  "But do you really mean to tell me, Peter, that Ben-Ahmed intended meand Hugh Sommers to escape?"

  "Das really what I means to tell you, Geo'ge."

  "Then why didn't you tell me all, this before, and save me from a dealof uncertainty?"

  "Cause, in de fuss' place, I had no time to tell you; in de secondplace, I was ordered not to tell you; in de t'ird place, it's good formidshipmen to be put on deir mettle, an' lef' to find deir own way outob diffikilties, an', in de fourf place, slabes hab no business to beaxin' de outs an' ins, de whys an' de wherefores of deir massa'saffairs."

  "Well, I always knew Ben-Ahmed had a kind heart, but little thought itwas so kind and self-sacrificing as to buy Sommers for the very purposeof setting him free. I regret, deeply, that I did not know this sooner,and that I cannot now have the chance of thanking him with all my heartand soul, and bidding the good man farewell. It is one comfort,however, that I'll be able to send a message back by you. And I'm alsoglad that I shall not have to part from you, my dear Peter, withouttelling you how much I love you and how sorry, very, _very_ sorry, I amto say good-bye."

  "Geo'ge," returned the negro earnestly, "don't you count your cheekinsafore dey's hatched! You're not away yit."

  Foster made no reply. To say truth, he felt a little hurt by the way inwhich his protestations of regard were received, and, by way of changingthe subject, he asked if Peter had ever heard anything about the oldDane and his wife and daughter who had been captured at the same timewith himself.

  "Dey's bin ransom'd, all ob dem. Got rich friends, you see. Hole yourtongue now, Geo'ge, we's comin' to de place."

  By that time Sommers and his daughter had overtaken the party. As theyall proceeded silently along the road, wondering how the matter wouldend, they observed a figure, like that of a female, glide, as it were,out of the darkness, and, taking Peter quietly by the arm, walk alongwith him.

  Impelled by curiosity, Foster went forward and looked into her face.

  "Angelica!" he exclaimed in surprise.

  "Ob course!" answered her husband for her, "you don't suppose de wife obPeter de Great would let Geo'ge Foster go away widout comin' to de boatto see him off?"

  Ere the middy could recover from his astonishment, the party camesuddenly upon a small cavern in which a light glimmered. At itsentrance lay a boat, and beside it, engaged in putting it to rights,were Brown and his three companions--the two British tars and theMaltese seaman.

  "Is all right?" asked Brown, in a low voice, as they approached.

  "All right," answered Peter.

  "Now, Geo'ge, you go in."

  The middy entered the cave, and with, if possible, increased surprise,he found Ben-Ahmed standing there!

  "You are astonished, my friend," said the Moor with a gentle smile, ashe extended his hand.

  "I am indeed," returned the middy, heartily grasping and warmly shakingit, "but I am also rejoiced that I have the opportunity--which I had nothoped for--of thanking you for all your great kindness to me in timepast--especially for this crowning act."

  "You have not to thank me," returned the Moor, "you have to thank thelittle English girl;" as he spoke he made a graceful motion of the handtowards Hester, who, with her father, entered the cave at the moment."Little Hester has taught me--not by word but by example--the grandlesson of your Christian Scriptures, that a man should do to others whathe would have others do to him. I have resolved to keep no more slaves,and, as a first step, I now set you all free!"

  "God's blessing rest on you for that, sir," said Hugh Sommers, steppingforward and grasping the hand that Foster had relinquished. "Have you,then, forsaken the faith of Mohammed and adopted that of Christ?"

  "Be not over-curious," said the Moor reprovingly. "Sufficient for youto know that fresh water cannot spring from a salt fountain. We mustnot waste time. The boat is in the water by this time. Farewell. Kissme, my child. We may not meet again on earth, but--we shall certainlymeet hereafter!"

  Hester, who saw the Moor assume all shapes and sizes through the tearsthat filled her eyes, ran to him, and, throwing her arms round his neckgave him a hug that made even her father jealous.

  "Now, away, all of you," cried Ben-Ahmed, when he was released, "and maythe God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob go with you."

  While he was yet speaking the clatter of horses' hoofs in the distancewas heard. Instantly the party made for the boat. There was no timefor last adieux. Ben-Ahmed helped to shove off the boat and bundle themin.

  "You will hear pistol-shots," he cried, "but fear not for me. My horsecan outrun the best in Algiers. I will only fire to decoy them away.Farewell!"

  He ran up into the shrubbery that bordered the road, and next minute thesound of the horse's feet was heard in the distance, as the boat skimmedswiftly out to sea under the powerful impulse of its stalwart crew.

  A few minutes later and, as the Moor had prophesied, pistol-shots wereheard on shore. From the sound they appeared to come from a shortdistance in the interior of the land, but musket-shots were also heardamong them, and from the flashes on the beach it became evident that theMoor had not succeeded in turning all their pursuers o
ff the scent--afact which was further illustrated by the skipping of a musket ballclose past the boat.

  Just then it struck George Foster that Peter the Great and his wife wereseated beside him.

  "Hallo, Peter!" he exclaimed; "how are you and Angelica to get onshore?"

  "We's not goin' on shore at all, Geo'ge."

  "What do you mean, Peter?"

  "I means what I says. De fact is, Geo'ge, dat I's come to de conclusiondat I couldn't lib widout you. Angelica's ob de same opinion, so we'smade up our minds, wid massa's purmission, to go wid you to ole England.We's all goin' togidder, Geo'ge. Ain't dat jolly?"

  "But how can we ever get to England in a small boat like this?" askedthe middy, in much anxiety, for in the hurry and excitement of the startthe difficulty had not occurred to him.

  "No fear about that, sir," answered Brown, who pulled the bow oar; "weain't such fools as to make the voyage in a cockle-shell like this! Theboat b'longs to a privateer as is owned by a friend o' mine, an' thewessel's lyin' off an' on waitin' for us."

  "There she goes!" said one of the sailors. "Look out!"

  As he spoke a large schooner loomed up against the dark sky, and washailed. A gruff voice replied. Another moment the sails flapped, andthe boat was towing alongside. Our middy was first to leap on deck--andnot without a purpose in view, for he was thus in a position to hand upthe passengers.

  "Do you forgive me, Hester?" he whispered humbly, as he stooped to graspher little hand.

  "I forgive you!" she whispered timidly, as she passed him, and was ledby her father into the vessel's cabin.

  That night two of the swiftest of the piratical war-vessels were seen towarp out from the Mole, and put to sea, but long before the land breezefilled their peaked sails the privateer was cleaving her way, homewardbound, through the dark waters of the Mediterranean.