Chapter Twelve.Mrs Langley and Agnes go out to Dinner.An agreeable surprise is something like sunshine in November; it warms up the constitution, mentally and physically.Such a surprise did Mrs Langley receive the morning that followed the evening on which Achmet Dey and his Sultana held their private conversation on the affairs of state. “Agnes!” she exclaimed, reading a note with elevated eyebrows, “just fancy! here is an invitation for you and me to dine with the Dey’s wife or wives!”“Oh!won’tthat be delightful?” cried Agnes, coming from the court into the room where her mother sat, with such a bound, that she filled with sympathetic excitement the heart of the small negro girl from beyond the Zahara, and caused her to rock the cradle too violently.“There, you’ve bumped it again; I knew you would!” said Mrs Langley, in tones of despair.Poor Zubby’s first awful glance of mingled deprecation and self-reproach was so touching that no one but a hardened monster could have withstood it; but the look, with the feelings which it implied, was short-lived. It passed like a summer cloud, and was replaced by an expression of supreme contentment and self-satisfaction when it became apparent that Master Jim wasnotgoing to awake, and that Mrs Langley’s despair was vanishing. Indeed, that lady’s despair was at all times remarkably short-lived. She had been trained in a school of dire adversity ever since the arrival of the coal-black one from beyond the Zahara, and had learned to hope against hope in an extraordinary degree in a case which was absolutely hopeless, for, whatever others might think or hope, Zubby knew herself to be incurable! Not that she was unwilling; on the contrary, there never was a more obliging or amiable creature among the sable daughters of Ham, but she had a tendency to forget herself, (as well as her charge), in moments of sudden emotion or delight, and gave way to burstlets of action, which, if slight, were always inopportune, and sometimes, though not often, disastrous.“We must get ready immediately,” continued Mrs Langley, with a cautioning shake of the head at Zubby, as she turned to Agnes; “because, you know, we may as well take the opportunity to do a little shopping before dinner.”“What! ‘shopping’ in the pirate city?” we hear you exclaim, reader.Yes, therewasshopping there in those days, though it did not bear much resemblance to shopping in more civilised lands. There were no wide fronts or plate-glass windows in those days. Indeed, then, as now, a shop in the Moorish town might be fitly described as a hole in the wall. It was, as it were, a deep window without an interior to speak of. A square hole, six feet by six, and from four to ten feet deep, without glazing or protection of any kind from the weather, except, in some cases, an awning, was a fair average shop; one of eight feet frontage was rather a “grand shop,” and one of twelve feet was quite a “bazaar.”Of course such shops were stuffed, like eggs, to an excess of fulness. They gave one the impression that the goods had been packed into smaller space than was possible, and that the introduction of another pin would infallibly explode the whole affair. A passage among the goods in each shop, just big enough to admit an ordinary man, was the scene of action in which the owner disported. This passage did not begin at the street: so much valuable space could not be afforded. A counter laden with small wares had to be leapt in order to gain it, and a rope depending from the ceiling rendered possible the acrobatic feat which was necessary to do so. Purchasers had to stand in the streets and transact business, the said streets being so narrow that there was no room for lobbies or paved foot-paths. While engaged in traffic, buyers were compelled more or less to block the way, and had their garments scraped successively by Turks and Moors and veiled Mohammedan females, by Cabyles from the mountains, negroes from Timbuctoo, white slaves from almost every country in Europe, and donkeys of the most debased and abject type,—these latter, by the way, being quite as capable as the human—though not humane—beings who drove them of going up and down stairs. No slope short of a perpendicular dead wall appeared to be able to stop them, and no wonder, poor wretches! for no torture short of total destruction was spared them.Ah! ye members of the “Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals” in Algiers, forgive us if we interject here the observation that there is earnest need for your activities at the present day!Followed by the faithful though uncontrollable Zubby, with a huge triangular grass basket, Mrs Langley entered the tortuous streets of the city, and proceeded to “shop.”Fear not, reader! It is not our purpose to drag you through the details of the too well-known process. We pass onward to matters more important.Having traversed several streets in which Moors sat cross-legged, embroidering purses and slippers with gold, in holes in the wall so small that a good-sized bust might have objected to occupy them; where cobblers, in similar niches, made and repaired round-toed shoes of morocco leather, and the makers of horn rings for fingers, wrists, arms and ankles wrought as deftly with their toes as with their fingers; where working silversmiths plied their trade in precious metals and gems in a free-and-easy open-air fashion that would have made the mouth of a London thief water; and where idle Arabs sipped coffee and smoked the live-long day, as though coffee and tobacco were the aim and end of life—which latter they proved indeed to many of them,—Mrs Langley with Agnes, followed by Zubby, paused before a niche in which were displayed for sale a variety of curious old trinkets of a nondescript and utterly useless character. In short, it appeared to be an Algerine curiosity-shop. Here, while bargaining with the owner for some small articles, she was surprised to hear a voice at her ear say in French—“Madame, good morning; I have great pleasure in this unexpected meeting.”She turned hastily, and found the Danish consul standing by her side.“Ah, monsieur,” she said, returning his salutation, “it is indeed seldom that I wander alone through this labyrinth, but necessity compels me. An English friend wishes me to send her a few characteristic articles, and I can trust no one to choose them for me. But, you look anxious.”“Yes, excuse me,” replied the Danish consul in haste, glancing round. “I am followed, persecuted I may say. I had intended to call for your husband to-day to beg him to use his influence with the Dey in my behalf, but I cannot—circumstances—in short, will you kindly mention to him that I am in trouble because of the non-payment of the tribute due by our Government, and—”Breaking off suddenly, the Danish consul bowed low and hurried away. Mrs Langley observed that, immediately after, a chaouse, or executioner of the palace, passed her.This incident induced her to conclude her shopping rather quickly, and furnished her with food for thought which entirely engrossed her mind until Agnes exclaimed—“Oh mamma, look! look! they’re going to shave a little boy!”Mrs Langley, directed by Agnes’s finger, looked and found that this was indeed true. A little boy, between eight and nine years of age, was seated in a barber’s shop near them, with a towel about his neck, glancing timidly, yet confidently, in the face of an elderly man who advanced towards him with an open razor, as though about to cut his throat. As it turned out, however, neither throat nor chin were in danger of violation. It was the head that the barber attacked, and this he scraped quite bare, without the aid of soap, leaving only a tuft of hair on the top. This tuft, we have been informed, is meant as a handle by means of which the owner may, after death, be dragged up into heaven! but we rather incline to the belief that it is left for the purpose of keeping the red fez or skull-cap on the head.Be this as it may, no sooner did the urchin behold Mrs Langley, than, casting aside the towel and ignoring the barber, he rushed out and exclaimed—in a compound of French, Arabic, and Lingua Franca, of which we give a free translation—“Oh, missus, me massr, console Dansh, vants see ver moch your hosbund!”“Thank you; I know it,” replied Mrs Langley, giving the boy a small coin and a bright smile.Quite satisfied that he had fulfilled his duty, the urchin returned to the barber and the lady proceeded to the palace.Here she was received ceremoniously by the father of Ashweesha, Sidi Cadua, a mild, gentle-spirited, little old Turk, who would have made a very fine old English gentleman, but who was about as well fitted to be father-in-law to an Algerine Dey, and a man of position in the pirate city, as he was to be Prime Minister to the man in the moon.Sidi Cadua conducted her to the seraglio, where she was heartily welcomed by the ladies, who expressed their delight at meeting her with girlish glee. Ashweesha laughingly said that she was glad to see Agnes had become a Mohammedan, on which Mrs Langley related what circumstances had caused the change, and the Sultana listened to the recital with tears of laughter running down her cheeks.The English lady had naturally expected something gorgeous in the palace, but she was not prepared for the lavish display of wealth that met her eyes everywhere.She found the Sultana and her six beautiful children in a room which, though not imposing in size, glittered with decoration. The ceiling and walls were rich with tessellated and arabesque work. The floor was covered with a carpet of cut velvet, with a pattern of the richest and most brightly-coloured flowers; and this carpet was strewn with costly jewels, which shone in the variegated light of the stained-glass windows above like glowing fire-flies. Around the walls were several recesses or niches, arched in the Moorish horse-shoe style. In one of these was a glass cabinet, on the shelves of which were some splendid articles of jewellery. In another recess hung a variety of swords and pistols, chiefly of Eastern manufacture, their handles and scabbards blazing with diamonds. Opposite to these stood a gilt four-post European bedstead, with four mattresses of gold brocade, and curtains of blue tiffany embroidered with gold sprigs. In fact, the apartment and its occupants were adorned with so much magnificence that the genie of Aladdin’s famous lamp would not have improved it, for, although that remarkable personage might have brought unlimited treasure to its decoration, he would not have found a spare inch anywhere on which to bestow it!The Sultana and her children were alone, with the exception of half-a-dozen beautiful Georgian slaves, and one or two negresses, who attended on them. Of course no gentlemen were present!“My husband is very fond of yours,” said Ashweesha, with a pleasant smile, leading her guests to a large cushion on the floor, and squatting them down beside her.“It gratifies me much to hear you say so,” replied Mrs Langley.They spoke in a jargon of languages, and made up their deficiencies by signs, of which we dare not attempt a characteristic translation.“He sent you a new slave-girl lately, I believe?” said the Sultana, beginning to feel her way.“Yes,” exclaimed the guest with animation, “it wasverykind of him; and I find hersosweet and amiable, and useful too. She assists me with my dear baby so admirably, as well as with the household, that I begin already to feel as if I could not get on without her. Do you know I have set my heart on raising sufficient money to ransom her and set her free?”“Then you will only lose her, for she will certainly go home to her husband,” observed Ashweesha, with a look of simplicity.“Of course; I count on that,” returned Mrs Langley. “You know that we Christians differ from Mohammedans widely on the point of slavery; and I am sure,” she added playfully, “you will not think me rude when I say that I mean to take advantage of your laws, and procure the ransom of as many slaves as possible during my residence here.”“If you had the wealth of a king,” said Ashweesha, with a smile, “you could not ransom the half of them, they are so numerous.”“I am too well aware of that,” rejoined the other sadly; “nevertheless, that does not exempt me from my duty. In the laws of my heavenly King and Saviour Jesus Christ it is written—‘Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.’”The Sultana bent a keen look of interest on her guest, and was about to reply, but seemed to change her mind, and said:—“It was Sidi Hassan, I am told, who brought in this slave-girl; and, by the way, I hear that he has become your janissary. Do you like him?”“I have seen so little of him that I can hardly tell.—You have walked with him in the garden, Agnes, several times; what doyouthink of him?”“I don’t like him atall!” answered Agnes, with powerful emphasis.Both ladies laughed, and so did the six little daughters of the Sultana, who had maintained a dignified silence while their elders were conversing.“My little girl is rather given to take hasty prejudices,” said Mrs Langley apologetically.“Does your husband find him useful?” continued the Sultana, returning to the charge.“No doubt he does, but I really cannot say, for my husband has only mentioned him casually, and I never venture to speak of his business affairs unless called on to do so. The fact that Sidi Hassan has been much oftener in town than at our residence since he was sent to us, may account for my slight knowledge about him.”“Oh! he has been very often in town, has he?” exclaimed Ashweesha.Before Mrs Langley could reply, an attendant announced that dinner was served in the adjoining room, whereupon the Georgian slaves were ordered to pick up the jewels that strewed the carpet. This they did, and, having locked them in the glass cabinet before mentioned, followed the party into the dining-room.It was a somewhat peculiar dinner in many respects. There was great variety. Meat, poultry, pastry, and sweatmeats of strange kinds and forms, succeeded each other, and were done full justice to by all present. It was like a glimpse of paradise to little Agnes; for, having been brought up in the simplest of styles, and forbidden pastry and sweatmeats altogether since the day of her birth, she absolutely revelled in new sensations.It must not be supposed that she violently broke through all restraints on this occasion; but her mother saw that if old rules were enforced, the child would be confused by the conflicting entreaties of her hostesses and the denials of her mother, while the Sultana might be offended. Mrs Langley, therefore, gave hercarte-blancheto eat what she pleased.The party all sat on embroidered cushions on the floor, round a small low table made of silver and mother-of-pearl. On this, each dish was placed separately; and all ate out of the same dish, after the Moorish fashion. The spoons were made of rosewood, tipped with amber, and the napkins were richly embroidered in gold, silver, and variously coloured silk on a curiously-wrought linen ground. All the vessels used were of the most elaborate and costly description, and we need scarcely add that the viands were good. Among other things there was fish, which was served and eaten with honey! but the chief among the dishes was kooskoos. This was thepièce de résistanceof the Moorish dinner-table, the substance on which the ladies chiefly fed and flourished. To be fat was, in those days, the most desirable attribute of a wife in the eyes of an Algerine husband, therefore kooskoos was eaten in quantity. It was made largely of flour, rolled, in some mystical manner, into the form of little pellets, like small sago; this, boiled with butter and other fatty substances, with bits of meat and chicken, and other viands mixed through it,—the whole being slightly seasoned and spiced,—was deemed food fit for a Sultana.During the meal they became very chatty, and the young people paid much attention to Agnes, who, being a sensitively good girl, felt, every time that she experienced a new taste, as though she were breaking all the Ten Commandments, notwithstanding the permission of her mother!Several times Ashweesha turned the conversation on the home affairs of her guests, and attempted to gain further information about Sidi Hassan’s doings, but found, much to her annoyance, that Mrs Langley knew little more than she had already communicated. Her good-humour was, however, restored by that lady’s unaffected admiration of the numerous lovely things by which she was surrounded. She specially praised the splendid napkins and the spoons before referred to, and when they rose from table, the Sultana presented her and Agnes with those that they had used.After giving them coffee and making another vain attempt to extract information, Ashweesha dismissed her guests, who returned home charmed with the novelty of their reception and entertainment.
An agreeable surprise is something like sunshine in November; it warms up the constitution, mentally and physically.
Such a surprise did Mrs Langley receive the morning that followed the evening on which Achmet Dey and his Sultana held their private conversation on the affairs of state. “Agnes!” she exclaimed, reading a note with elevated eyebrows, “just fancy! here is an invitation for you and me to dine with the Dey’s wife or wives!”
“Oh!won’tthat be delightful?” cried Agnes, coming from the court into the room where her mother sat, with such a bound, that she filled with sympathetic excitement the heart of the small negro girl from beyond the Zahara, and caused her to rock the cradle too violently.
“There, you’ve bumped it again; I knew you would!” said Mrs Langley, in tones of despair.
Poor Zubby’s first awful glance of mingled deprecation and self-reproach was so touching that no one but a hardened monster could have withstood it; but the look, with the feelings which it implied, was short-lived. It passed like a summer cloud, and was replaced by an expression of supreme contentment and self-satisfaction when it became apparent that Master Jim wasnotgoing to awake, and that Mrs Langley’s despair was vanishing. Indeed, that lady’s despair was at all times remarkably short-lived. She had been trained in a school of dire adversity ever since the arrival of the coal-black one from beyond the Zahara, and had learned to hope against hope in an extraordinary degree in a case which was absolutely hopeless, for, whatever others might think or hope, Zubby knew herself to be incurable! Not that she was unwilling; on the contrary, there never was a more obliging or amiable creature among the sable daughters of Ham, but she had a tendency to forget herself, (as well as her charge), in moments of sudden emotion or delight, and gave way to burstlets of action, which, if slight, were always inopportune, and sometimes, though not often, disastrous.
“We must get ready immediately,” continued Mrs Langley, with a cautioning shake of the head at Zubby, as she turned to Agnes; “because, you know, we may as well take the opportunity to do a little shopping before dinner.”
“What! ‘shopping’ in the pirate city?” we hear you exclaim, reader.
Yes, therewasshopping there in those days, though it did not bear much resemblance to shopping in more civilised lands. There were no wide fronts or plate-glass windows in those days. Indeed, then, as now, a shop in the Moorish town might be fitly described as a hole in the wall. It was, as it were, a deep window without an interior to speak of. A square hole, six feet by six, and from four to ten feet deep, without glazing or protection of any kind from the weather, except, in some cases, an awning, was a fair average shop; one of eight feet frontage was rather a “grand shop,” and one of twelve feet was quite a “bazaar.”
Of course such shops were stuffed, like eggs, to an excess of fulness. They gave one the impression that the goods had been packed into smaller space than was possible, and that the introduction of another pin would infallibly explode the whole affair. A passage among the goods in each shop, just big enough to admit an ordinary man, was the scene of action in which the owner disported. This passage did not begin at the street: so much valuable space could not be afforded. A counter laden with small wares had to be leapt in order to gain it, and a rope depending from the ceiling rendered possible the acrobatic feat which was necessary to do so. Purchasers had to stand in the streets and transact business, the said streets being so narrow that there was no room for lobbies or paved foot-paths. While engaged in traffic, buyers were compelled more or less to block the way, and had their garments scraped successively by Turks and Moors and veiled Mohammedan females, by Cabyles from the mountains, negroes from Timbuctoo, white slaves from almost every country in Europe, and donkeys of the most debased and abject type,—these latter, by the way, being quite as capable as the human—though not humane—beings who drove them of going up and down stairs. No slope short of a perpendicular dead wall appeared to be able to stop them, and no wonder, poor wretches! for no torture short of total destruction was spared them.
Ah! ye members of the “Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals” in Algiers, forgive us if we interject here the observation that there is earnest need for your activities at the present day!
Followed by the faithful though uncontrollable Zubby, with a huge triangular grass basket, Mrs Langley entered the tortuous streets of the city, and proceeded to “shop.”
Fear not, reader! It is not our purpose to drag you through the details of the too well-known process. We pass onward to matters more important.
Having traversed several streets in which Moors sat cross-legged, embroidering purses and slippers with gold, in holes in the wall so small that a good-sized bust might have objected to occupy them; where cobblers, in similar niches, made and repaired round-toed shoes of morocco leather, and the makers of horn rings for fingers, wrists, arms and ankles wrought as deftly with their toes as with their fingers; where working silversmiths plied their trade in precious metals and gems in a free-and-easy open-air fashion that would have made the mouth of a London thief water; and where idle Arabs sipped coffee and smoked the live-long day, as though coffee and tobacco were the aim and end of life—which latter they proved indeed to many of them,—Mrs Langley with Agnes, followed by Zubby, paused before a niche in which were displayed for sale a variety of curious old trinkets of a nondescript and utterly useless character. In short, it appeared to be an Algerine curiosity-shop. Here, while bargaining with the owner for some small articles, she was surprised to hear a voice at her ear say in French—
“Madame, good morning; I have great pleasure in this unexpected meeting.”
She turned hastily, and found the Danish consul standing by her side.
“Ah, monsieur,” she said, returning his salutation, “it is indeed seldom that I wander alone through this labyrinth, but necessity compels me. An English friend wishes me to send her a few characteristic articles, and I can trust no one to choose them for me. But, you look anxious.”
“Yes, excuse me,” replied the Danish consul in haste, glancing round. “I am followed, persecuted I may say. I had intended to call for your husband to-day to beg him to use his influence with the Dey in my behalf, but I cannot—circumstances—in short, will you kindly mention to him that I am in trouble because of the non-payment of the tribute due by our Government, and—”
Breaking off suddenly, the Danish consul bowed low and hurried away. Mrs Langley observed that, immediately after, a chaouse, or executioner of the palace, passed her.
This incident induced her to conclude her shopping rather quickly, and furnished her with food for thought which entirely engrossed her mind until Agnes exclaimed—
“Oh mamma, look! look! they’re going to shave a little boy!”
Mrs Langley, directed by Agnes’s finger, looked and found that this was indeed true. A little boy, between eight and nine years of age, was seated in a barber’s shop near them, with a towel about his neck, glancing timidly, yet confidently, in the face of an elderly man who advanced towards him with an open razor, as though about to cut his throat. As it turned out, however, neither throat nor chin were in danger of violation. It was the head that the barber attacked, and this he scraped quite bare, without the aid of soap, leaving only a tuft of hair on the top. This tuft, we have been informed, is meant as a handle by means of which the owner may, after death, be dragged up into heaven! but we rather incline to the belief that it is left for the purpose of keeping the red fez or skull-cap on the head.
Be this as it may, no sooner did the urchin behold Mrs Langley, than, casting aside the towel and ignoring the barber, he rushed out and exclaimed—in a compound of French, Arabic, and Lingua Franca, of which we give a free translation—
“Oh, missus, me massr, console Dansh, vants see ver moch your hosbund!”
“Thank you; I know it,” replied Mrs Langley, giving the boy a small coin and a bright smile.
Quite satisfied that he had fulfilled his duty, the urchin returned to the barber and the lady proceeded to the palace.
Here she was received ceremoniously by the father of Ashweesha, Sidi Cadua, a mild, gentle-spirited, little old Turk, who would have made a very fine old English gentleman, but who was about as well fitted to be father-in-law to an Algerine Dey, and a man of position in the pirate city, as he was to be Prime Minister to the man in the moon.
Sidi Cadua conducted her to the seraglio, where she was heartily welcomed by the ladies, who expressed their delight at meeting her with girlish glee. Ashweesha laughingly said that she was glad to see Agnes had become a Mohammedan, on which Mrs Langley related what circumstances had caused the change, and the Sultana listened to the recital with tears of laughter running down her cheeks.
The English lady had naturally expected something gorgeous in the palace, but she was not prepared for the lavish display of wealth that met her eyes everywhere.
She found the Sultana and her six beautiful children in a room which, though not imposing in size, glittered with decoration. The ceiling and walls were rich with tessellated and arabesque work. The floor was covered with a carpet of cut velvet, with a pattern of the richest and most brightly-coloured flowers; and this carpet was strewn with costly jewels, which shone in the variegated light of the stained-glass windows above like glowing fire-flies. Around the walls were several recesses or niches, arched in the Moorish horse-shoe style. In one of these was a glass cabinet, on the shelves of which were some splendid articles of jewellery. In another recess hung a variety of swords and pistols, chiefly of Eastern manufacture, their handles and scabbards blazing with diamonds. Opposite to these stood a gilt four-post European bedstead, with four mattresses of gold brocade, and curtains of blue tiffany embroidered with gold sprigs. In fact, the apartment and its occupants were adorned with so much magnificence that the genie of Aladdin’s famous lamp would not have improved it, for, although that remarkable personage might have brought unlimited treasure to its decoration, he would not have found a spare inch anywhere on which to bestow it!
The Sultana and her children were alone, with the exception of half-a-dozen beautiful Georgian slaves, and one or two negresses, who attended on them. Of course no gentlemen were present!
“My husband is very fond of yours,” said Ashweesha, with a pleasant smile, leading her guests to a large cushion on the floor, and squatting them down beside her.
“It gratifies me much to hear you say so,” replied Mrs Langley.
They spoke in a jargon of languages, and made up their deficiencies by signs, of which we dare not attempt a characteristic translation.
“He sent you a new slave-girl lately, I believe?” said the Sultana, beginning to feel her way.
“Yes,” exclaimed the guest with animation, “it wasverykind of him; and I find hersosweet and amiable, and useful too. She assists me with my dear baby so admirably, as well as with the household, that I begin already to feel as if I could not get on without her. Do you know I have set my heart on raising sufficient money to ransom her and set her free?”
“Then you will only lose her, for she will certainly go home to her husband,” observed Ashweesha, with a look of simplicity.
“Of course; I count on that,” returned Mrs Langley. “You know that we Christians differ from Mohammedans widely on the point of slavery; and I am sure,” she added playfully, “you will not think me rude when I say that I mean to take advantage of your laws, and procure the ransom of as many slaves as possible during my residence here.”
“If you had the wealth of a king,” said Ashweesha, with a smile, “you could not ransom the half of them, they are so numerous.”
“I am too well aware of that,” rejoined the other sadly; “nevertheless, that does not exempt me from my duty. In the laws of my heavenly King and Saviour Jesus Christ it is written—‘Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.’”
The Sultana bent a keen look of interest on her guest, and was about to reply, but seemed to change her mind, and said:—
“It was Sidi Hassan, I am told, who brought in this slave-girl; and, by the way, I hear that he has become your janissary. Do you like him?”
“I have seen so little of him that I can hardly tell.—You have walked with him in the garden, Agnes, several times; what doyouthink of him?”
“I don’t like him atall!” answered Agnes, with powerful emphasis.
Both ladies laughed, and so did the six little daughters of the Sultana, who had maintained a dignified silence while their elders were conversing.
“My little girl is rather given to take hasty prejudices,” said Mrs Langley apologetically.
“Does your husband find him useful?” continued the Sultana, returning to the charge.
“No doubt he does, but I really cannot say, for my husband has only mentioned him casually, and I never venture to speak of his business affairs unless called on to do so. The fact that Sidi Hassan has been much oftener in town than at our residence since he was sent to us, may account for my slight knowledge about him.”
“Oh! he has been very often in town, has he?” exclaimed Ashweesha.
Before Mrs Langley could reply, an attendant announced that dinner was served in the adjoining room, whereupon the Georgian slaves were ordered to pick up the jewels that strewed the carpet. This they did, and, having locked them in the glass cabinet before mentioned, followed the party into the dining-room.
It was a somewhat peculiar dinner in many respects. There was great variety. Meat, poultry, pastry, and sweatmeats of strange kinds and forms, succeeded each other, and were done full justice to by all present. It was like a glimpse of paradise to little Agnes; for, having been brought up in the simplest of styles, and forbidden pastry and sweatmeats altogether since the day of her birth, she absolutely revelled in new sensations.
It must not be supposed that she violently broke through all restraints on this occasion; but her mother saw that if old rules were enforced, the child would be confused by the conflicting entreaties of her hostesses and the denials of her mother, while the Sultana might be offended. Mrs Langley, therefore, gave hercarte-blancheto eat what she pleased.
The party all sat on embroidered cushions on the floor, round a small low table made of silver and mother-of-pearl. On this, each dish was placed separately; and all ate out of the same dish, after the Moorish fashion. The spoons were made of rosewood, tipped with amber, and the napkins were richly embroidered in gold, silver, and variously coloured silk on a curiously-wrought linen ground. All the vessels used were of the most elaborate and costly description, and we need scarcely add that the viands were good. Among other things there was fish, which was served and eaten with honey! but the chief among the dishes was kooskoos. This was thepièce de résistanceof the Moorish dinner-table, the substance on which the ladies chiefly fed and flourished. To be fat was, in those days, the most desirable attribute of a wife in the eyes of an Algerine husband, therefore kooskoos was eaten in quantity. It was made largely of flour, rolled, in some mystical manner, into the form of little pellets, like small sago; this, boiled with butter and other fatty substances, with bits of meat and chicken, and other viands mixed through it,—the whole being slightly seasoned and spiced,—was deemed food fit for a Sultana.
During the meal they became very chatty, and the young people paid much attention to Agnes, who, being a sensitively good girl, felt, every time that she experienced a new taste, as though she were breaking all the Ten Commandments, notwithstanding the permission of her mother!
Several times Ashweesha turned the conversation on the home affairs of her guests, and attempted to gain further information about Sidi Hassan’s doings, but found, much to her annoyance, that Mrs Langley knew little more than she had already communicated. Her good-humour was, however, restored by that lady’s unaffected admiration of the numerous lovely things by which she was surrounded. She specially praised the splendid napkins and the spoons before referred to, and when they rose from table, the Sultana presented her and Agnes with those that they had used.
After giving them coffee and making another vain attempt to extract information, Ashweesha dismissed her guests, who returned home charmed with the novelty of their reception and entertainment.
Chapter Thirteen.Relates Something about Improvements, Surprises, and Changes in the State of Affairs.In consequence of the opportune interference of the British consul, and of the good-will which Lucien had inspired in the breast of the Dey, a ray of light stole into the gloomy Bagnio, and tended to cheer at least two of the slaves.This ray was conveyed by means of the Padre Giovanni, whom we have elsewhere mentioned as being the friend and benefactor of the slaves.Previous to his visit a cloud had overshadowed the prison. Several chaouses had entered, and, after loading Castello and the other runaways with chains, had led them forth to death. It would be painful as well as unnecessary to detail the terrible tortures under which these wretched men perished. The remaining slaves knew well the nature of the fate that awaited them, and the blank caused by the disappearance for ever of their well-known faces, was fitted to restrain all thoughts of rebellion, had such existed. Some surprise was felt at first by all the slaves at the delay of punishment in the case of Francisco and Mariano, but after the first hour or two had passed, they ceased to give the matter a thought.When, therefore, the old man Giovanni entered the Bagnio and informed these two that the Dey had reprieved them, and commanded their attendance at the palace, their surprise was re-awakened, and speculation as to the cause of such unusual proceedings was revived.“I am the bearer of still further tidings,” said the old man, taking a letter from a sort of wallet that hung from his shoulder, and handing it to Francisco.“From Juliet!” exclaimed Francisco, tearing it open and reading aloud eagerly:—“‘Dearest Father,—It is not possible to express to you the agony that we endured on hearing that you had been taken captive by the Algerines. Oh, why are such monsters allowed to live? (“Why, indeed!” interjected Francisco, bitterly.) But take comfort. God watches over us all. Some of your old friends here have begun to collect money for your ransom, and I work hard to increase the sum—but oh! how slowly it grows! Even darling grandmamma has got some light sewing work which brings in a little. But our hearts mourn because of you. We earnestly hope that the pirates treat you well, (“Thank God they do not know anything aboutthat,” muttered Francisco), and we feel almost sure that they do, because we have been told that they are careful of the slaves who, they hope, will be ransomed. I have therefore written to the Dey—how I hated him while I wrote the humble letter!—telling him that we hoped to raise the sum in a short time. Every one here is very kind and sympathises with us, besides giving a contribution to the fund.“‘This letter goes by a French vessel which is to touch at Algiers, and which conveys a priest who has a large sum of money with him to ransom Sicilian and other slaves. I entreated him to ransom you with part of it, but he smiled pitifully, and said the money had been raised by the friends of particular slaves, some of whom had been many years in captivity, and that it could not be diverted from its proper objects. How my heart sank when he spoke of some being in slavery for many years! But it was cheered again when I reflected how hard we are all working to raise the money for you and Lucien and Mariano. We send you all our dear love.—Your affectionate daughter.“Shall I have an opportunity of answering this?” asked Francisco, eagerly.“Yes; I am about to conduct you to the palace, where your son Lucien—who, I may mention, is a favourite—awaits you.”“You mustn’t let them know the truth, father,” said Mariano earnestly.“Would you have him tell them what is false?” asked the Padre gravely.“No, no,” replied the youth, with a laugh, “but there is no occasion to mention all that we have suffered, you know; and there is a good deal—I mean a little—that is agreeable to communicate. For instance, this very summons to the palace, and Lucien’s good luck.”“Trust me, lad,” said Francisco; “I won’t fail to cheer them if I can, and you may be sure I won’t exaggerate our misfortunes.—But lead on, old man; I am anxious to get out of this foul den as quickly as—”“Forgive me, comrades,” he added, checking himself, and turning to the slaves near him; “I am grieved more than I can tell to leave you behind. If by remaining I could lighten your sorrows, I would gladly do so. It may seem presumptuous in one who is himself a slave to say so, yet I can’t help assuring you that if the Almighty is pleased to give me any power in this city, I won’t forget you.”This speech was received with a kindly nod by some, and a laugh of scorn by others.Probably the latter had heard similar sentiments before from somewhat kindred and hearty spirits, and had learned from sad experience that nothing ever came of their good-will.Following the old man, the father and son were soon in the presence of Lucien, who received them, as may well be believed, with a full heart.“God bless you, my son,” said Francisco, “for well assured am I that it is through your influence that we are here.”“It is through the influence of the British consul,” replied Lucien.“Well, I pray for a blessing on you both, for it is useless to tell me thatyouhave had no hand in it.”“I do not say that I had no hand in it. On the contrary, I wrote out the order for your acquittal; and,” added Lucien, with a peculiar smile, “I also had previously written out your and Mariano’s death-warrant!”“You are jesting, lad,” said Francisco.“Indeed, I am not,” returned Lucien, relating the circumstances of the whole matter to his astonished and somewhat horrified auditors.“And now,” he continued, “I must let you know your destination. Don’t be disappointed. You must remember that we are slaves, and have just been delivered from the Bagnio. The Dey seems to have taken a fancy for me—”“I don’t wonder,” interrupted Mariano enthusiastically, seizing and squeezing his brother’s hand.“And,” continued Lucien, “he has permitted me to select situations for you. I have arranged that you, father, shall be my assistant in the secretary’s office, and that you, Mariano, shall be shopman to Bacri the Jew.”Lucien looked awkwardly at his father and brother as he spoke, feeling uncertain, no doubt, as to the manner in which they would receive this information. He was therefore rather relieved than otherwise by a smile on the face of Mariano.“Why, Lucien,” he said, “I always thought you a great original, and this last display of your powers confirms me in my opinion. Not that I deem it strange your having appointed father your clerk—for, in the circumstances, it would have been charity to have appointed him even to the office of shoe-black—anything being better than the Bagnio,—but what wild fancy induced you to makemeshop-boy to a Jew?”“That,” replied Lucien, “you shall find out in good time—only, pray, remember that I am not the Dey’s Grand Vizier, and have not many places to offer.”“Well, well, be it so,” returned the other; “I am well content with what your wisdom provides.”“And so am I,” said Francisco, cheerfully. “I suppose you will feed us better than we have been fed of late?”“That will I, father, but there is no pay attached to your offices, for slaves, you know, get no wages.”“They get splendid habiliments, it would seem,” observed Francisco, regarding his son with twinkling eyes. “But come, Lucien, I am all impatience to begin the work of under-secretary of state! You bear in remembrance, I trust, that I can read and write nothing save my mother tongue?”“Yes; Italian will suffice, father; such of the duties as you fail to perform I can easily fulfil.—Now, Mariano,” he said, taking his brother aside, and speaking in a low earnest tone, “see that you act wisely in the situation I have selected for you. The Jew is a kind, good man, despite what is said about his worship of Mammon. I would that all in this city were like him, for in that case we should have no slavery. During the short period I have held my office, my eyes have been opened to much that I may not mention. There, the very walls of this palace have ears! I have said enough. You remember Angela?”“Remember her!” exclaimed Mariano, with a deep flush and a look of intense surprise, “how can you ask me, Lucien?”“Well, you will hear of her from Bacri. Good bye—go!”He rang a bell as he spoke, and ordered the slave who answered the summons to lead Mariano to the abode of Bacri; at the same time he took his father’s hand and conducted him to his office or bureau.Amazed at all that had happened, particularly at his summary dismissal by his brother, the youth followed his conductor in silence, and in a short time reached the iron-bolted door of the chief of the Jews.“This is Bacri’s house,” said his guide in Italian, and, having discharged this duty, he turned on his heel, and abruptly left him.Pausing a moment to think, and finding that the more he thought the less he seemed to be capable of thinking to any purpose, Mariano applied his knuckles to the door.For a youth of his character it was a timid knock, and produced no result.Mariano was one who—in peculiar circumstances, like those in which at that time he found himself—might once in a way act with timidity, but he was not the man to act so twice. Finding that the first knock was useless, he hit the door a blow that caused the old house to resound. In a few seconds it was opened slightly, and the face of a beautiful girl in Jewish costume appeared.If Mariano had been suddenly petrified he could not have stood more rigidly motionless; amazement sat enthroned on his countenance.“Angela!”“Signor Mariano!”The words in each case were followed by a deep flush, and Angela retreated.Of course Mariano advanced.“Excuse—forgive me, signorina,” he exclaimed, taking her hand respectfully. “I did not know—of course I could not—how was it possible that—the fact is, I came to see a Jew, and—and—”“I’ve found a jewel,” hemighthave said, but that didn’t seem to occur to him!“Bacri—that’s his name!” continued Mariano. “Is Bacri within? I came to see him, but—”“Yes—Signor Bacri is at home,” said Angela, much confused by the youth’s confusion, as well as by the sudden and unexpected nature of the meeting. “But your father—and brother Lucien—Oh, I hope they are well; that they have not been treated cruelly; that they are not in that dreadful Bagnio, of which I have heard so much,” said Angela, at last finding the use of her tongue.They were interrupted at this point by the appearance of Bacri himself, who welcomed the youth to his house, said that he had been told by Lucien to expect him, and introduced him to his wife and the other members of his family.Thereafter the Jew took his new shopman into his private apartment, and made many strange revelations to him in regard to the affairs of the piratical city, as well as about the details of his new appointment, in regard to which we shall say nothing here; but it may be well to add that Mariano finally retired for the night well satisfied with the wisdom of his elder brother.For some time after this, things went well with those actors in our tale in whose welfare we are chiefly interested.Francisco proved himself to be an able clerk—when assisted by his superior!—and Mariano became a most willing and useful shopman—with the prospect before him of returning each night to bask in the sunshine of Angela’s countenance!At the consul’s residence Paulina was as happy as was possible in her sad circumstances, for she became very fond of Mrs Langley, and was a perfect treasure in the house,—not only taking a large part of the management thereof, but keeping watchful guard over the dangerous Zubby, so that that Zaharan specimen of humanity inflicted a perceptibly smaller percentage of bumps on the head of Master Jim than in former times. Paulina’s baby, too, began to indicate signs of intelligence by crowing, knocking over whatever it came within reach of, and endeavouring to dig the eyes out of every one who permitted familiarities, especially the eyes of Master Jim, who, it is but fair to add, soon displayed superior capacity in the same line, so that the parents agreed mutually that they would soon be sweet playmates to each other, and that they were the most delicious babes that ever were or could be born. Ted Flaggan also remained a happy inmate of the consul’s abode, awaiting the arrival of a British vessel which might enable him to depart, but not at all anxious for that consummation, and, in the meantime, making himself generally useful.Down at the Marina, too, the state of things was a little, though not much, improved. Another guardian of the slaves had been appointed,—the former one having been strangled on account of some wickedness reported by enemies to have been done by him, and of which he was afterwards found to be entirely innocent.His successor was a man of better nature, who, although he kept the slaves hard at their toil, and did not abate the lash or bastinado, nevertheless supplied them with occasional comforts, such as an extra roll of bread when extra work had to be done, or even a glass of spirits when, as was often the case, they were called up at nights, in drenching rain and cold, to protect the shipping in the harbour, and prevent wreck, when sudden gales arose.Thus the aspect of things in the pirate city, bad though it was, became a little brighter, and continued so for some time, until an event occurred which flung a darker cloud than usual over the ever changing scene.
In consequence of the opportune interference of the British consul, and of the good-will which Lucien had inspired in the breast of the Dey, a ray of light stole into the gloomy Bagnio, and tended to cheer at least two of the slaves.
This ray was conveyed by means of the Padre Giovanni, whom we have elsewhere mentioned as being the friend and benefactor of the slaves.
Previous to his visit a cloud had overshadowed the prison. Several chaouses had entered, and, after loading Castello and the other runaways with chains, had led them forth to death. It would be painful as well as unnecessary to detail the terrible tortures under which these wretched men perished. The remaining slaves knew well the nature of the fate that awaited them, and the blank caused by the disappearance for ever of their well-known faces, was fitted to restrain all thoughts of rebellion, had such existed. Some surprise was felt at first by all the slaves at the delay of punishment in the case of Francisco and Mariano, but after the first hour or two had passed, they ceased to give the matter a thought.
When, therefore, the old man Giovanni entered the Bagnio and informed these two that the Dey had reprieved them, and commanded their attendance at the palace, their surprise was re-awakened, and speculation as to the cause of such unusual proceedings was revived.
“I am the bearer of still further tidings,” said the old man, taking a letter from a sort of wallet that hung from his shoulder, and handing it to Francisco.
“From Juliet!” exclaimed Francisco, tearing it open and reading aloud eagerly:—
“‘Dearest Father,—It is not possible to express to you the agony that we endured on hearing that you had been taken captive by the Algerines. Oh, why are such monsters allowed to live? (“Why, indeed!” interjected Francisco, bitterly.) But take comfort. God watches over us all. Some of your old friends here have begun to collect money for your ransom, and I work hard to increase the sum—but oh! how slowly it grows! Even darling grandmamma has got some light sewing work which brings in a little. But our hearts mourn because of you. We earnestly hope that the pirates treat you well, (“Thank God they do not know anything aboutthat,” muttered Francisco), and we feel almost sure that they do, because we have been told that they are careful of the slaves who, they hope, will be ransomed. I have therefore written to the Dey—how I hated him while I wrote the humble letter!—telling him that we hoped to raise the sum in a short time. Every one here is very kind and sympathises with us, besides giving a contribution to the fund.“‘This letter goes by a French vessel which is to touch at Algiers, and which conveys a priest who has a large sum of money with him to ransom Sicilian and other slaves. I entreated him to ransom you with part of it, but he smiled pitifully, and said the money had been raised by the friends of particular slaves, some of whom had been many years in captivity, and that it could not be diverted from its proper objects. How my heart sank when he spoke of some being in slavery for many years! But it was cheered again when I reflected how hard we are all working to raise the money for you and Lucien and Mariano. We send you all our dear love.—Your affectionate daughter.
“‘Dearest Father,—It is not possible to express to you the agony that we endured on hearing that you had been taken captive by the Algerines. Oh, why are such monsters allowed to live? (“Why, indeed!” interjected Francisco, bitterly.) But take comfort. God watches over us all. Some of your old friends here have begun to collect money for your ransom, and I work hard to increase the sum—but oh! how slowly it grows! Even darling grandmamma has got some light sewing work which brings in a little. But our hearts mourn because of you. We earnestly hope that the pirates treat you well, (“Thank God they do not know anything aboutthat,” muttered Francisco), and we feel almost sure that they do, because we have been told that they are careful of the slaves who, they hope, will be ransomed. I have therefore written to the Dey—how I hated him while I wrote the humble letter!—telling him that we hoped to raise the sum in a short time. Every one here is very kind and sympathises with us, besides giving a contribution to the fund.
“‘This letter goes by a French vessel which is to touch at Algiers, and which conveys a priest who has a large sum of money with him to ransom Sicilian and other slaves. I entreated him to ransom you with part of it, but he smiled pitifully, and said the money had been raised by the friends of particular slaves, some of whom had been many years in captivity, and that it could not be diverted from its proper objects. How my heart sank when he spoke of some being in slavery for many years! But it was cheered again when I reflected how hard we are all working to raise the money for you and Lucien and Mariano. We send you all our dear love.—Your affectionate daughter.
“Shall I have an opportunity of answering this?” asked Francisco, eagerly.
“Yes; I am about to conduct you to the palace, where your son Lucien—who, I may mention, is a favourite—awaits you.”
“You mustn’t let them know the truth, father,” said Mariano earnestly.
“Would you have him tell them what is false?” asked the Padre gravely.
“No, no,” replied the youth, with a laugh, “but there is no occasion to mention all that we have suffered, you know; and there is a good deal—I mean a little—that is agreeable to communicate. For instance, this very summons to the palace, and Lucien’s good luck.”
“Trust me, lad,” said Francisco; “I won’t fail to cheer them if I can, and you may be sure I won’t exaggerate our misfortunes.—But lead on, old man; I am anxious to get out of this foul den as quickly as—”
“Forgive me, comrades,” he added, checking himself, and turning to the slaves near him; “I am grieved more than I can tell to leave you behind. If by remaining I could lighten your sorrows, I would gladly do so. It may seem presumptuous in one who is himself a slave to say so, yet I can’t help assuring you that if the Almighty is pleased to give me any power in this city, I won’t forget you.”
This speech was received with a kindly nod by some, and a laugh of scorn by others.
Probably the latter had heard similar sentiments before from somewhat kindred and hearty spirits, and had learned from sad experience that nothing ever came of their good-will.
Following the old man, the father and son were soon in the presence of Lucien, who received them, as may well be believed, with a full heart.
“God bless you, my son,” said Francisco, “for well assured am I that it is through your influence that we are here.”
“It is through the influence of the British consul,” replied Lucien.
“Well, I pray for a blessing on you both, for it is useless to tell me thatyouhave had no hand in it.”
“I do not say that I had no hand in it. On the contrary, I wrote out the order for your acquittal; and,” added Lucien, with a peculiar smile, “I also had previously written out your and Mariano’s death-warrant!”
“You are jesting, lad,” said Francisco.
“Indeed, I am not,” returned Lucien, relating the circumstances of the whole matter to his astonished and somewhat horrified auditors.
“And now,” he continued, “I must let you know your destination. Don’t be disappointed. You must remember that we are slaves, and have just been delivered from the Bagnio. The Dey seems to have taken a fancy for me—”
“I don’t wonder,” interrupted Mariano enthusiastically, seizing and squeezing his brother’s hand.
“And,” continued Lucien, “he has permitted me to select situations for you. I have arranged that you, father, shall be my assistant in the secretary’s office, and that you, Mariano, shall be shopman to Bacri the Jew.”
Lucien looked awkwardly at his father and brother as he spoke, feeling uncertain, no doubt, as to the manner in which they would receive this information. He was therefore rather relieved than otherwise by a smile on the face of Mariano.
“Why, Lucien,” he said, “I always thought you a great original, and this last display of your powers confirms me in my opinion. Not that I deem it strange your having appointed father your clerk—for, in the circumstances, it would have been charity to have appointed him even to the office of shoe-black—anything being better than the Bagnio,—but what wild fancy induced you to makemeshop-boy to a Jew?”
“That,” replied Lucien, “you shall find out in good time—only, pray, remember that I am not the Dey’s Grand Vizier, and have not many places to offer.”
“Well, well, be it so,” returned the other; “I am well content with what your wisdom provides.”
“And so am I,” said Francisco, cheerfully. “I suppose you will feed us better than we have been fed of late?”
“That will I, father, but there is no pay attached to your offices, for slaves, you know, get no wages.”
“They get splendid habiliments, it would seem,” observed Francisco, regarding his son with twinkling eyes. “But come, Lucien, I am all impatience to begin the work of under-secretary of state! You bear in remembrance, I trust, that I can read and write nothing save my mother tongue?”
“Yes; Italian will suffice, father; such of the duties as you fail to perform I can easily fulfil.—Now, Mariano,” he said, taking his brother aside, and speaking in a low earnest tone, “see that you act wisely in the situation I have selected for you. The Jew is a kind, good man, despite what is said about his worship of Mammon. I would that all in this city were like him, for in that case we should have no slavery. During the short period I have held my office, my eyes have been opened to much that I may not mention. There, the very walls of this palace have ears! I have said enough. You remember Angela?”
“Remember her!” exclaimed Mariano, with a deep flush and a look of intense surprise, “how can you ask me, Lucien?”
“Well, you will hear of her from Bacri. Good bye—go!”
He rang a bell as he spoke, and ordered the slave who answered the summons to lead Mariano to the abode of Bacri; at the same time he took his father’s hand and conducted him to his office or bureau.
Amazed at all that had happened, particularly at his summary dismissal by his brother, the youth followed his conductor in silence, and in a short time reached the iron-bolted door of the chief of the Jews.
“This is Bacri’s house,” said his guide in Italian, and, having discharged this duty, he turned on his heel, and abruptly left him.
Pausing a moment to think, and finding that the more he thought the less he seemed to be capable of thinking to any purpose, Mariano applied his knuckles to the door.
For a youth of his character it was a timid knock, and produced no result.
Mariano was one who—in peculiar circumstances, like those in which at that time he found himself—might once in a way act with timidity, but he was not the man to act so twice. Finding that the first knock was useless, he hit the door a blow that caused the old house to resound. In a few seconds it was opened slightly, and the face of a beautiful girl in Jewish costume appeared.
If Mariano had been suddenly petrified he could not have stood more rigidly motionless; amazement sat enthroned on his countenance.
“Angela!”
“Signor Mariano!”
The words in each case were followed by a deep flush, and Angela retreated.
Of course Mariano advanced.
“Excuse—forgive me, signorina,” he exclaimed, taking her hand respectfully. “I did not know—of course I could not—how was it possible that—the fact is, I came to see a Jew, and—and—”
“I’ve found a jewel,” hemighthave said, but that didn’t seem to occur to him!
“Bacri—that’s his name!” continued Mariano. “Is Bacri within? I came to see him, but—”
“Yes—Signor Bacri is at home,” said Angela, much confused by the youth’s confusion, as well as by the sudden and unexpected nature of the meeting. “But your father—and brother Lucien—Oh, I hope they are well; that they have not been treated cruelly; that they are not in that dreadful Bagnio, of which I have heard so much,” said Angela, at last finding the use of her tongue.
They were interrupted at this point by the appearance of Bacri himself, who welcomed the youth to his house, said that he had been told by Lucien to expect him, and introduced him to his wife and the other members of his family.
Thereafter the Jew took his new shopman into his private apartment, and made many strange revelations to him in regard to the affairs of the piratical city, as well as about the details of his new appointment, in regard to which we shall say nothing here; but it may be well to add that Mariano finally retired for the night well satisfied with the wisdom of his elder brother.
For some time after this, things went well with those actors in our tale in whose welfare we are chiefly interested.
Francisco proved himself to be an able clerk—when assisted by his superior!—and Mariano became a most willing and useful shopman—with the prospect before him of returning each night to bask in the sunshine of Angela’s countenance!
At the consul’s residence Paulina was as happy as was possible in her sad circumstances, for she became very fond of Mrs Langley, and was a perfect treasure in the house,—not only taking a large part of the management thereof, but keeping watchful guard over the dangerous Zubby, so that that Zaharan specimen of humanity inflicted a perceptibly smaller percentage of bumps on the head of Master Jim than in former times. Paulina’s baby, too, began to indicate signs of intelligence by crowing, knocking over whatever it came within reach of, and endeavouring to dig the eyes out of every one who permitted familiarities, especially the eyes of Master Jim, who, it is but fair to add, soon displayed superior capacity in the same line, so that the parents agreed mutually that they would soon be sweet playmates to each other, and that they were the most delicious babes that ever were or could be born. Ted Flaggan also remained a happy inmate of the consul’s abode, awaiting the arrival of a British vessel which might enable him to depart, but not at all anxious for that consummation, and, in the meantime, making himself generally useful.
Down at the Marina, too, the state of things was a little, though not much, improved. Another guardian of the slaves had been appointed,—the former one having been strangled on account of some wickedness reported by enemies to have been done by him, and of which he was afterwards found to be entirely innocent.
His successor was a man of better nature, who, although he kept the slaves hard at their toil, and did not abate the lash or bastinado, nevertheless supplied them with occasional comforts, such as an extra roll of bread when extra work had to be done, or even a glass of spirits when, as was often the case, they were called up at nights, in drenching rain and cold, to protect the shipping in the harbour, and prevent wreck, when sudden gales arose.
Thus the aspect of things in the pirate city, bad though it was, became a little brighter, and continued so for some time, until an event occurred which flung a darker cloud than usual over the ever changing scene.
Chapter Fourteen.The Plot thickens, and Mariano’s Forbearance and Courage are tested.When the commander-in-chief of cavalry condescended to pay a visit to a Jew, it was a sign that events of considerable importance were hovering in the air. The approach, therefore, of Sidi Hamet to the residence of Bacri one night, under cover of the darkness, was regarded by the Jew with feelings of misgiving, which caused his face to become suddenly very grave, as he looked through the little iron-bound hole, or window, which commanded a view of his court.The Aga carried no light, although the laws ordained that all who moved about after night-fall should do so; but Bacri knew him as well by his outline and gait as if he had seen his face in the sunshine.Descending the stair at once, the Jew opened the door and let him in.“Thou art surprised, Bacri?” said Hamet, swaggering into the skiffa, where Angela chanced to be at work at the time.—“Ha! thou hast a pretty daughter,” he added, with a gaze of insolent admiration.“The girl is passing fair,” replied the Jew, opening the door of his study, and purposely avoiding the correction of the Aga’s mistake. “Please to enter here.”Hamet obeyed; remarking as he passed that the girl were worthy of being the wife of a Dey, if she had not been a Jewess.“Bacri,” he said, sitting down, while the master of the house stood respectfully before him, “thou knowest the object of my visit—eh? Come, it is not the first time thou hast had to do with such as I. The plot thickens, Bacri, and thou must play thy part, willing or not willing. Say, how much is it to be?”“How much do you demand?” asked the Jew.The Aga rose and whispered in his ear.“Impossible!” said Bacri, shaking his head decidedly.“How, dog! impossible?” exclaimed the Turk sternly. “Dost know that I can let the whole Turkish army loose on thee and thy false-hearted race?”“My race is maligned alike by Mohammedan and Christian,” returned the Jew, with dignity. “You know full well, Sidi Hamet, that the sum you have named would ruin all the Jews in the town. If the security of my people is not to be purchased for a smaller sum, we must perish. My utmost efforts would not avail to raise more than the half thereof within the specified time. You may indeed ruin us, if you will, but it were wise to remember that if you kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, there will be no more golden eggs to lay.”“True, O Bacri,” returned Hamet, laughing; “thou art wise, and I shall act on thy wisdom—having first, however, acted on mine own when I demanded double the sum I expected to receive, knowing thine inveterate tendency to drive a hard bargain! Now, good-night,” he said, rising and leaving the room.—“Ha! thy pretty daughter has fled. Well, we shall hope to see her again. Mean while, have a care; our plot is in your hands, but thine every movement shall be watched from this hour, and if a note of warning escapes thee, thou art but a dead man!”Saying this, the Aga departed, and Bacri, returning to the skiffa, summoned Mariano, who had been engaged in another part of the house when Hamet entered.“Come hither, lad,” said the Jew, while a careworn expression seemed to settle on his handsome features; “I have work for you to do which requires courage and speed. Hamet the Aga—I may say, the black-hearted Aga—has been here on an errand which I have been looking forward to for some months. You may be aware, perhaps, that in this barbarous city there is no hereditary succession of Deys. Each Dey is elected by the Turkish janissaries from among the men of their own ranks; one result of which is that various factions are kept up in the army, and the most vigorous man among them, the one who can command the greatest number of admirers and followers, generally wins the unenviable but much-coveted post. When the reigning Dey becomes unpopular, the factions begin to ferment; and, instead of waiting for him to die, they invariably strangle, poison, or behead him. The factions generally have some disturbance among themselves, but in any case, the consequence of a revolution of this kind is, that complete anarchy prevails in the city, and, until a new Dey is elected by the janissaries, the Moors and Jews are at the mercy of the rude soldiery. Of course, all who have enemies among them hide themselves and their pelf, if possible, until the anarchy ceases, which it does the moment the green standard of the Prophet is hoisted on the terrace of the palace, announcing that a new Dey is seated on the warm throne of his not quite cold predecessor.“I tell you all this,” continued the Jew impressively, “that ye may understand what is about to happen and know how to act. It is a sharp ordeal to go through, but a short one; the scene of violence lasting usually but one day. Still, that affords ample time for irreparable injury to be done.“It is usual, just before a revolution, for the dominant faction to make an arrangement with the persecuted Jews, so that, in virtue of the payment of a large sum, their families and possessions may be spared. Of course, we are compelled to agree to this, and even compliance does not always secure us, because when violent men are once let loose, they often become unmanageable for a time, even by those who command them. Still, the payment of this unjust tax is our only safeguard. This evening, Sidi Hamet, the commander-in-chief of cavalry, has been here to make the arrangement with me. I have long known of his designs; indeed, we Jews know nearly all the secret plots that go on around us; for gold is potent, and we have those who are willing to give us information both in the palace and in the casba. I likewise know that Sidi Omar, whom you may have seen, also aims at the throne; but he has no chance against his rival Hamet, who is a more powerful man in mind and body, besides being younger. Your old enemy Sidi Hassan has agreed to assist Hamet, who has promised to reward him with the office next in dignity to his own. I have more than once warned Achmet of what is plotting, for he has been kinder to my people than most of the Deys who preceded him, but he is strangely slow in guarding himself. He is a bold, fearless man, and perchance trusts too much to a popularity which for some time has been on the wane—chiefly, I believe, because he is not a sufficiently unprincipled villain to please the taste of the lawless crew over whom he reigns.”“This is a dreadful state of things!” said Mariano, who had listened to the narration in silent amazement.“It is indeed dreadful,” returned Bacri, “and yet, although the European powers must be thoroughly aware of it, through their consuls, this is the state of things that they not only tolerate, but absolutely sanction by the presence of their representatives and the payment of tribute.”“Tribute!” exclaimed Mariano, in a tone of indignation, “is it possible that tribute is paid by the great powers to these miserable pirates?”“Even so, young man,” answered Bacri, with a smile, “just as we Jews pay them tribute to avoid being pillaged—only, without having our excuse. We are compelled to do it; but no one can suppose for a moment that a small power like Algiers cancompelnearly all the maritime nations to bow before it. Nevertheless, the nationsdosubmit, some of them to very humiliating terms. You saw the Swedish frigate conveying two store-ships that entered the port yesterday?”“Yes.”“Well, these vessels contained the annual tribute due by Sweden, and that country is also bound by treaty to furnish the Dey with a person capable of directing his gunpowder factory! Denmark not only pays tribute, but is bound to pay it in naval stores, and her consul here is at present in disgrace because his country has failed to pay its tribute at the specified time. There is an American ship just now detained in port because the nation to which it belongs is also dilatory in paying up what is due by treaty, therefore the American consul is also in the Dey’s black books; and I may add in regard to him that, at the time of his appointment to his office, he gave the Dey a consular present of sixteen thousand Spanish dollars. Even that notorious warrior Napoleon, who is at present turning Europe upside down, thought it worth his while lately to send to the Dey a present of telescopes and other things to the amount of four thousand pounds; and England, that great nation which styles herself mistress of the seas, cannot enter the Mediterranean with her merchant ships until she has paid toll to this exacting city.”“Now,” continued Bacri, stopping abruptly in his account of these matters, “I must not waste more time on a subject which is incomprehensible. Indeed, I would not have said so much were it not that the hour is yet too early for the undertaking which I have in view for you.“Achmet, then, must be at once put on his guard; but to do so is no easy matter, for his enemies surround him. It would be impossible for me, or any one sent by me, to gain admittance to him. I am already under surveillance, and should forfeit my life were I to attempt it. The only method I can think of is to send to the British consul, and let him know what is pending. He is the only consul here to whom the Dey will grant an immediate unquestioning audience. You are active and strong, Mariano, and are, I believe, willing to aid me.”“Indeed I am,” replied the youth fervently.“I need scarcely tell you,” said Bacri sadly, “that you and your friends are intimately concerned in the safety of the present Dey, for if he falls it will go ill with all connected with him, especially with the Scrivano-Grande, your brother Lucien, and your father.”“I guessed as much,” said Mariano, with an anxious look; “but, tell me, is there likely to be much danger to this house and its inmates?”“I think not, I hope not, Mariano, but there is no place of absolute safety for me or mine in the city. I might indeed take refuge in the British consulate, but I prefer to remain where I am, and put my trust in God.”“Then you and yours,” returned the youth, with hesitation, “may want the aid of a stout and willing arm. Is it well that I should leave you at this crisis?”“Fear not; I think there will be ample time for you to go and return, if you make haste,” said the Jew.“Then let me go at once,” urged the other.“Not so,” answered Bacri; “we must proceed wisely as well as with caution.—Go, Angela,” he said to the maiden, who entered the room at that moment, “open the closet at the head of the terrace stair; you will find a thin knotted rope hanging there,—fetch it hither.”In a few minutes Angela returned with the rope.“Sit thee down, pretty one,” said Bacri kindly, “while I give this youth some directions. I will explain to you afterwards the cause of his being sent away.—This line, Mariano, is all you need. It is long enough to reach from the city walls to the ground. You will go towards the tower to the west of Bab-Azoun gate. There is an iron spike on the wall there, on which is fixed the head of your poor friend Castello. Fasten the rope to the spike and lower yourself. The ground reached, leave the rope hanging, it will serve for your ascent on returning; then speed round the back of the town, and over the hills by Frais Vallon to the house of the British consul, tell him of the urgent need there is for his seeing the Dey and letting him know the danger which hovers over his head, and then return as fast as possible. This rope you will find suitable to its objects. An active young fellow like you can have no difficulty in re-mounting the walls with the aid of these knots, and you need not fear interruption if you exercise ordinary caution, for Turkish soldiers, like the warriors of all nations, become arrant cowards when supernatural fears assail them. Poor Castello’s head will keep the nearest sentinel as far off as is consistent with his duty. No doubt they are well used to trunkless heads in this city, but there is a vast difference between the sight of such in the glare of day, when surrounded by comrades, and amid the excitement of war or an execution, and a similar head in the stillness of a calm night during the solemn hours of a long and solitary watch.”“But why not allow me to start off at once?” asked Mariano, with some impatience at the Jew’s prolixity.“Because the sentinels will not be relieved for an hour yet, and it is well to make such an enterprise as near to the relief as possible—wearied men at the end of a long watch being less on the alert than at the beginning of it. Besides, the moon will be lower in half an hour, and that will favour your enterprise.”Being constrained to wait, Mariano busied himself in making the useful preparations. He wound the rope tightly round his waist, and covered it with a thin scarf such as was commonly worn by the Moors. He also trimmed and prepared a small lantern.“Now,” said Bacri, looking at his watch, “you may go. But, stay—not in the direction of our usual passage. You could not move ten yards from my door to-night without being intercepted. Follow me; I have long been prepared for emergencies such as this.”“Good-night, Angela,” said Mariano, extending his hand, as he prepared to follow the Jew.“Oh, be careful,” said Angela earnestly. “From the little I have heard it seems that there is much danger impending.”“What I can do to avert it shall be done,” replied the youth, kissing his hand to the girl as he passed through the doorway and followed his master to the terrace-roof of the house.We have said that Algerine roofs are flat, but they are by no means regular. There are often various elevations on the same roof, and various forms, as if the architect had terminated the summits of the several walls and partitions at the dictates of a wayward fancy rather than a settled plan. In some cases a step—in others a flight of steps—formed the communication between one part of a roof and another, while division-walls varying from a foot to two yards in height, cut it up into irregular squares and triangles. Such roofs are eminently fitted for the game of “hide and go seek,” to which, doubtless, they have been applied more or less since the days of Abraham.Issuing on the terrace of his house, then, Bacri pointed out to Mariano, by the light of the moon, which was slowly descending to its bed in the Sahel hills, that the roof of his neighbour’s house could be easily reached by a single step.“You will cross over this roof,” he said, taking a ring from his finger and placing it on that of his slave, “and be sure that you tread with care until you come to the other edge of it, where you will be able to place yourself in the shadow of a chimney until a cloud covers the moon. My neighbour is not a friend, therefore tread like a cat. Attend well to my directions now, and obey them implicitly. You require no arms. Whatever happens to you, offer no resistance, as that will only ensure death. When the moon is clouded leap to the next roof, which you may see now in line with yonder minaret. There is about six feet between the two—which is nothing to a youth like you; only be careful, for failure will plunge you into the street, sixty feet below. That terrace gained, you are on friendly ground. Go, knock gently at the door leading to the house below, and show the owner my ring, asking him at the same time to guide you to the street, after which you know how to act; and may the God of Abraham direct you. Stay! If the owner of the house, who is a Jew, should use you roughly, heed it not. Whatever you do, be passive. Your own life, and it may be the lives of others, depends on this.”The first part of the Jew’s caution would have availed little, for when Mariano was roused he recked little of his own life; but the reference to others reminded him of Angela and his father, so that he made up his mind to be a very model of forbearance whatever should happen.Stepping easily from the house of the Jew to the terrace of his neighbour, he proceeded with extreme caution to the chimney pointed out to him, and took his stand under its shadow.It was a time and situation which induced many burning thoughts and sad reflections to chase each other through the youth’s brain, as he awaited impatiently the clouding of the moon. From the elevated point on which he stood nearly the whole city lay spread out at his feet, its white terraces, domes, and minarets shining like silver in the pale light, and contrasting vividly with the dark blue bay lying between it and the distant range of the Jurjura mountains. Everything was profoundly calm, quiet, and peaceful, so that he found it difficult to believe in the fierce passions, black villainy, horrible cruelty, and intolerable suffering which seethed below. For some time his eyes rested on the palace of the Dey, and he thought of his father and Lucien with deep anxiety.Then they wandered to the hated Bagnio, and he thought with pity of the miserable victims confined there, and of the hundreds of other Christian men and women who toiled in hopeless slavery in and around the pirate city. Passing onward, his eyes rested on the light-house and fortifications of the port, and he wondered whether any of the powerful nations of the earth would ever have the common-sense to send a fleet to blow such a wasps’ nest into unimaginable atoms!At this point his thoughts were interrupted by the darkening of the moon by a thick cloud, and the sudden descent of deep shadow on the town—as if all hope in such a blessed consummation were forbidden.Turning at once to the parapet of the terrace, he mounted, but paused a moment, as he endeavoured to gauge the distance of the opposite wall, and gazed into the black gulf below. Bacri had told him that the space was six feet. In the darkness that now prevailed it appeared twenty. He would have ventured it in the circumstances had it been sixty!Collecting all his energies and courage, he made a bound forward that might have roused the envy of an acrobat, and cleared not only the space between but the parapet beyond, coming down with an awful crash into the midst of a certain box-garden, which was the special pride of the owner of the mansion.Poor Mariano leaped up in horror, and listened with dread, but suddenly remembering that he now stood on what Bacri had termed friendly ground, he recovered self-possession and sought for the door on the roof. Finding it after some trouble, he knocked gently.It was opened much sooner and more violently than he had anticipated, and a tall man springing out seized him by the throat in a grasp like a vice, and held a gleaming dagger to his breast.In other circumstances Mariano would certainly have engaged in a struggle for the dagger, but remembering Angela and the Jew’s warning, he gave back, and said in French, as well as the vice-like grip would allow—“A friend.”“Truly,” replied the man gruffly, in Lingua Franca, “thy knock might imply friendship, but thine appearance here at such an hour requires more explanation than a mere assurance.”“Remove your hand and you shall have it,” replied the youth, somewhat angrily. “Dost suppose that if I had been other than a friend I would not have ere now flung thee headlong from thine own terrace?”“Speak quickly, then,” returned the man, relaxing his hold a little.“This ring,” said the youth.“Ha! Enough, a sure token,” interrupted the Jew, in a low friendly tone, on seeing the ring, at the same time leading Mariano within the doorway. “What wouldst thou?”“Nothing more than to be shown the nearest way to the street.”“That is soon done—follow me.”In a few minutes Mariano found himself in a narrow street, down which, after lighting his lantern and thanking the Jew, he proceeded at a rapid pace.In the intricacies of that curious old town the youth would certainly have lost himself, but for the fact that it was built, as we have said, on the slope of a hill, so that all he had to do was to keep descending, in order to secure his final exit into the principal thoroughfare—Bab-Azoun.Few persons met him at that hour, and these appeared desirous of avoiding observation. After passing the Bagnio with a shudder, he extinguished the lantern. And now the real danger of his enterprise had begun, because he was acting illegally in traversing the streets after dark without a light, and liable to be taken up and punished by any of the guards who should find him. He proceeded therefore with great caution; keeping close to the walls in the darkest places, and gliding into doorways to hide when any one approached. Thus he succeeded escaping observation, and had almost reached the city wall, not far from the spot where it was garnished by poor Castello’s head, when he heard the tramp of soldiers. They were about to turn a corner which would in another second have brought him full into view. To retreat was impossible, and no friendly doorway stood open to receive him. In this extremity he pressed himself into a niche formed by a pillar and an angle of the house beside him. It could not have concealed him in ordinary circumstances, but aided by darkness there was some possibility of escaping notice. Crushing himself against the wall with all his might, and wishing with all his heart that he had been a smaller man, he breathlessly awaited the passing of the soldiers.
When the commander-in-chief of cavalry condescended to pay a visit to a Jew, it was a sign that events of considerable importance were hovering in the air. The approach, therefore, of Sidi Hamet to the residence of Bacri one night, under cover of the darkness, was regarded by the Jew with feelings of misgiving, which caused his face to become suddenly very grave, as he looked through the little iron-bound hole, or window, which commanded a view of his court.
The Aga carried no light, although the laws ordained that all who moved about after night-fall should do so; but Bacri knew him as well by his outline and gait as if he had seen his face in the sunshine.
Descending the stair at once, the Jew opened the door and let him in.
“Thou art surprised, Bacri?” said Hamet, swaggering into the skiffa, where Angela chanced to be at work at the time.—“Ha! thou hast a pretty daughter,” he added, with a gaze of insolent admiration.
“The girl is passing fair,” replied the Jew, opening the door of his study, and purposely avoiding the correction of the Aga’s mistake. “Please to enter here.”
Hamet obeyed; remarking as he passed that the girl were worthy of being the wife of a Dey, if she had not been a Jewess.
“Bacri,” he said, sitting down, while the master of the house stood respectfully before him, “thou knowest the object of my visit—eh? Come, it is not the first time thou hast had to do with such as I. The plot thickens, Bacri, and thou must play thy part, willing or not willing. Say, how much is it to be?”
“How much do you demand?” asked the Jew.
The Aga rose and whispered in his ear.
“Impossible!” said Bacri, shaking his head decidedly.
“How, dog! impossible?” exclaimed the Turk sternly. “Dost know that I can let the whole Turkish army loose on thee and thy false-hearted race?”
“My race is maligned alike by Mohammedan and Christian,” returned the Jew, with dignity. “You know full well, Sidi Hamet, that the sum you have named would ruin all the Jews in the town. If the security of my people is not to be purchased for a smaller sum, we must perish. My utmost efforts would not avail to raise more than the half thereof within the specified time. You may indeed ruin us, if you will, but it were wise to remember that if you kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, there will be no more golden eggs to lay.”
“True, O Bacri,” returned Hamet, laughing; “thou art wise, and I shall act on thy wisdom—having first, however, acted on mine own when I demanded double the sum I expected to receive, knowing thine inveterate tendency to drive a hard bargain! Now, good-night,” he said, rising and leaving the room.—“Ha! thy pretty daughter has fled. Well, we shall hope to see her again. Mean while, have a care; our plot is in your hands, but thine every movement shall be watched from this hour, and if a note of warning escapes thee, thou art but a dead man!”
Saying this, the Aga departed, and Bacri, returning to the skiffa, summoned Mariano, who had been engaged in another part of the house when Hamet entered.
“Come hither, lad,” said the Jew, while a careworn expression seemed to settle on his handsome features; “I have work for you to do which requires courage and speed. Hamet the Aga—I may say, the black-hearted Aga—has been here on an errand which I have been looking forward to for some months. You may be aware, perhaps, that in this barbarous city there is no hereditary succession of Deys. Each Dey is elected by the Turkish janissaries from among the men of their own ranks; one result of which is that various factions are kept up in the army, and the most vigorous man among them, the one who can command the greatest number of admirers and followers, generally wins the unenviable but much-coveted post. When the reigning Dey becomes unpopular, the factions begin to ferment; and, instead of waiting for him to die, they invariably strangle, poison, or behead him. The factions generally have some disturbance among themselves, but in any case, the consequence of a revolution of this kind is, that complete anarchy prevails in the city, and, until a new Dey is elected by the janissaries, the Moors and Jews are at the mercy of the rude soldiery. Of course, all who have enemies among them hide themselves and their pelf, if possible, until the anarchy ceases, which it does the moment the green standard of the Prophet is hoisted on the terrace of the palace, announcing that a new Dey is seated on the warm throne of his not quite cold predecessor.
“I tell you all this,” continued the Jew impressively, “that ye may understand what is about to happen and know how to act. It is a sharp ordeal to go through, but a short one; the scene of violence lasting usually but one day. Still, that affords ample time for irreparable injury to be done.
“It is usual, just before a revolution, for the dominant faction to make an arrangement with the persecuted Jews, so that, in virtue of the payment of a large sum, their families and possessions may be spared. Of course, we are compelled to agree to this, and even compliance does not always secure us, because when violent men are once let loose, they often become unmanageable for a time, even by those who command them. Still, the payment of this unjust tax is our only safeguard. This evening, Sidi Hamet, the commander-in-chief of cavalry, has been here to make the arrangement with me. I have long known of his designs; indeed, we Jews know nearly all the secret plots that go on around us; for gold is potent, and we have those who are willing to give us information both in the palace and in the casba. I likewise know that Sidi Omar, whom you may have seen, also aims at the throne; but he has no chance against his rival Hamet, who is a more powerful man in mind and body, besides being younger. Your old enemy Sidi Hassan has agreed to assist Hamet, who has promised to reward him with the office next in dignity to his own. I have more than once warned Achmet of what is plotting, for he has been kinder to my people than most of the Deys who preceded him, but he is strangely slow in guarding himself. He is a bold, fearless man, and perchance trusts too much to a popularity which for some time has been on the wane—chiefly, I believe, because he is not a sufficiently unprincipled villain to please the taste of the lawless crew over whom he reigns.”
“This is a dreadful state of things!” said Mariano, who had listened to the narration in silent amazement.
“It is indeed dreadful,” returned Bacri, “and yet, although the European powers must be thoroughly aware of it, through their consuls, this is the state of things that they not only tolerate, but absolutely sanction by the presence of their representatives and the payment of tribute.”
“Tribute!” exclaimed Mariano, in a tone of indignation, “is it possible that tribute is paid by the great powers to these miserable pirates?”
“Even so, young man,” answered Bacri, with a smile, “just as we Jews pay them tribute to avoid being pillaged—only, without having our excuse. We are compelled to do it; but no one can suppose for a moment that a small power like Algiers cancompelnearly all the maritime nations to bow before it. Nevertheless, the nationsdosubmit, some of them to very humiliating terms. You saw the Swedish frigate conveying two store-ships that entered the port yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Well, these vessels contained the annual tribute due by Sweden, and that country is also bound by treaty to furnish the Dey with a person capable of directing his gunpowder factory! Denmark not only pays tribute, but is bound to pay it in naval stores, and her consul here is at present in disgrace because his country has failed to pay its tribute at the specified time. There is an American ship just now detained in port because the nation to which it belongs is also dilatory in paying up what is due by treaty, therefore the American consul is also in the Dey’s black books; and I may add in regard to him that, at the time of his appointment to his office, he gave the Dey a consular present of sixteen thousand Spanish dollars. Even that notorious warrior Napoleon, who is at present turning Europe upside down, thought it worth his while lately to send to the Dey a present of telescopes and other things to the amount of four thousand pounds; and England, that great nation which styles herself mistress of the seas, cannot enter the Mediterranean with her merchant ships until she has paid toll to this exacting city.”
“Now,” continued Bacri, stopping abruptly in his account of these matters, “I must not waste more time on a subject which is incomprehensible. Indeed, I would not have said so much were it not that the hour is yet too early for the undertaking which I have in view for you.
“Achmet, then, must be at once put on his guard; but to do so is no easy matter, for his enemies surround him. It would be impossible for me, or any one sent by me, to gain admittance to him. I am already under surveillance, and should forfeit my life were I to attempt it. The only method I can think of is to send to the British consul, and let him know what is pending. He is the only consul here to whom the Dey will grant an immediate unquestioning audience. You are active and strong, Mariano, and are, I believe, willing to aid me.”
“Indeed I am,” replied the youth fervently.
“I need scarcely tell you,” said Bacri sadly, “that you and your friends are intimately concerned in the safety of the present Dey, for if he falls it will go ill with all connected with him, especially with the Scrivano-Grande, your brother Lucien, and your father.”
“I guessed as much,” said Mariano, with an anxious look; “but, tell me, is there likely to be much danger to this house and its inmates?”
“I think not, I hope not, Mariano, but there is no place of absolute safety for me or mine in the city. I might indeed take refuge in the British consulate, but I prefer to remain where I am, and put my trust in God.”
“Then you and yours,” returned the youth, with hesitation, “may want the aid of a stout and willing arm. Is it well that I should leave you at this crisis?”
“Fear not; I think there will be ample time for you to go and return, if you make haste,” said the Jew.
“Then let me go at once,” urged the other.
“Not so,” answered Bacri; “we must proceed wisely as well as with caution.—Go, Angela,” he said to the maiden, who entered the room at that moment, “open the closet at the head of the terrace stair; you will find a thin knotted rope hanging there,—fetch it hither.”
In a few minutes Angela returned with the rope.
“Sit thee down, pretty one,” said Bacri kindly, “while I give this youth some directions. I will explain to you afterwards the cause of his being sent away.—This line, Mariano, is all you need. It is long enough to reach from the city walls to the ground. You will go towards the tower to the west of Bab-Azoun gate. There is an iron spike on the wall there, on which is fixed the head of your poor friend Castello. Fasten the rope to the spike and lower yourself. The ground reached, leave the rope hanging, it will serve for your ascent on returning; then speed round the back of the town, and over the hills by Frais Vallon to the house of the British consul, tell him of the urgent need there is for his seeing the Dey and letting him know the danger which hovers over his head, and then return as fast as possible. This rope you will find suitable to its objects. An active young fellow like you can have no difficulty in re-mounting the walls with the aid of these knots, and you need not fear interruption if you exercise ordinary caution, for Turkish soldiers, like the warriors of all nations, become arrant cowards when supernatural fears assail them. Poor Castello’s head will keep the nearest sentinel as far off as is consistent with his duty. No doubt they are well used to trunkless heads in this city, but there is a vast difference between the sight of such in the glare of day, when surrounded by comrades, and amid the excitement of war or an execution, and a similar head in the stillness of a calm night during the solemn hours of a long and solitary watch.”
“But why not allow me to start off at once?” asked Mariano, with some impatience at the Jew’s prolixity.
“Because the sentinels will not be relieved for an hour yet, and it is well to make such an enterprise as near to the relief as possible—wearied men at the end of a long watch being less on the alert than at the beginning of it. Besides, the moon will be lower in half an hour, and that will favour your enterprise.”
Being constrained to wait, Mariano busied himself in making the useful preparations. He wound the rope tightly round his waist, and covered it with a thin scarf such as was commonly worn by the Moors. He also trimmed and prepared a small lantern.
“Now,” said Bacri, looking at his watch, “you may go. But, stay—not in the direction of our usual passage. You could not move ten yards from my door to-night without being intercepted. Follow me; I have long been prepared for emergencies such as this.”
“Good-night, Angela,” said Mariano, extending his hand, as he prepared to follow the Jew.
“Oh, be careful,” said Angela earnestly. “From the little I have heard it seems that there is much danger impending.”
“What I can do to avert it shall be done,” replied the youth, kissing his hand to the girl as he passed through the doorway and followed his master to the terrace-roof of the house.
We have said that Algerine roofs are flat, but they are by no means regular. There are often various elevations on the same roof, and various forms, as if the architect had terminated the summits of the several walls and partitions at the dictates of a wayward fancy rather than a settled plan. In some cases a step—in others a flight of steps—formed the communication between one part of a roof and another, while division-walls varying from a foot to two yards in height, cut it up into irregular squares and triangles. Such roofs are eminently fitted for the game of “hide and go seek,” to which, doubtless, they have been applied more or less since the days of Abraham.
Issuing on the terrace of his house, then, Bacri pointed out to Mariano, by the light of the moon, which was slowly descending to its bed in the Sahel hills, that the roof of his neighbour’s house could be easily reached by a single step.
“You will cross over this roof,” he said, taking a ring from his finger and placing it on that of his slave, “and be sure that you tread with care until you come to the other edge of it, where you will be able to place yourself in the shadow of a chimney until a cloud covers the moon. My neighbour is not a friend, therefore tread like a cat. Attend well to my directions now, and obey them implicitly. You require no arms. Whatever happens to you, offer no resistance, as that will only ensure death. When the moon is clouded leap to the next roof, which you may see now in line with yonder minaret. There is about six feet between the two—which is nothing to a youth like you; only be careful, for failure will plunge you into the street, sixty feet below. That terrace gained, you are on friendly ground. Go, knock gently at the door leading to the house below, and show the owner my ring, asking him at the same time to guide you to the street, after which you know how to act; and may the God of Abraham direct you. Stay! If the owner of the house, who is a Jew, should use you roughly, heed it not. Whatever you do, be passive. Your own life, and it may be the lives of others, depends on this.”
The first part of the Jew’s caution would have availed little, for when Mariano was roused he recked little of his own life; but the reference to others reminded him of Angela and his father, so that he made up his mind to be a very model of forbearance whatever should happen.
Stepping easily from the house of the Jew to the terrace of his neighbour, he proceeded with extreme caution to the chimney pointed out to him, and took his stand under its shadow.
It was a time and situation which induced many burning thoughts and sad reflections to chase each other through the youth’s brain, as he awaited impatiently the clouding of the moon. From the elevated point on which he stood nearly the whole city lay spread out at his feet, its white terraces, domes, and minarets shining like silver in the pale light, and contrasting vividly with the dark blue bay lying between it and the distant range of the Jurjura mountains. Everything was profoundly calm, quiet, and peaceful, so that he found it difficult to believe in the fierce passions, black villainy, horrible cruelty, and intolerable suffering which seethed below. For some time his eyes rested on the palace of the Dey, and he thought of his father and Lucien with deep anxiety.
Then they wandered to the hated Bagnio, and he thought with pity of the miserable victims confined there, and of the hundreds of other Christian men and women who toiled in hopeless slavery in and around the pirate city. Passing onward, his eyes rested on the light-house and fortifications of the port, and he wondered whether any of the powerful nations of the earth would ever have the common-sense to send a fleet to blow such a wasps’ nest into unimaginable atoms!
At this point his thoughts were interrupted by the darkening of the moon by a thick cloud, and the sudden descent of deep shadow on the town—as if all hope in such a blessed consummation were forbidden.
Turning at once to the parapet of the terrace, he mounted, but paused a moment, as he endeavoured to gauge the distance of the opposite wall, and gazed into the black gulf below. Bacri had told him that the space was six feet. In the darkness that now prevailed it appeared twenty. He would have ventured it in the circumstances had it been sixty!
Collecting all his energies and courage, he made a bound forward that might have roused the envy of an acrobat, and cleared not only the space between but the parapet beyond, coming down with an awful crash into the midst of a certain box-garden, which was the special pride of the owner of the mansion.
Poor Mariano leaped up in horror, and listened with dread, but suddenly remembering that he now stood on what Bacri had termed friendly ground, he recovered self-possession and sought for the door on the roof. Finding it after some trouble, he knocked gently.
It was opened much sooner and more violently than he had anticipated, and a tall man springing out seized him by the throat in a grasp like a vice, and held a gleaming dagger to his breast.
In other circumstances Mariano would certainly have engaged in a struggle for the dagger, but remembering Angela and the Jew’s warning, he gave back, and said in French, as well as the vice-like grip would allow—
“A friend.”
“Truly,” replied the man gruffly, in Lingua Franca, “thy knock might imply friendship, but thine appearance here at such an hour requires more explanation than a mere assurance.”
“Remove your hand and you shall have it,” replied the youth, somewhat angrily. “Dost suppose that if I had been other than a friend I would not have ere now flung thee headlong from thine own terrace?”
“Speak quickly, then,” returned the man, relaxing his hold a little.
“This ring,” said the youth.
“Ha! Enough, a sure token,” interrupted the Jew, in a low friendly tone, on seeing the ring, at the same time leading Mariano within the doorway. “What wouldst thou?”
“Nothing more than to be shown the nearest way to the street.”
“That is soon done—follow me.”
In a few minutes Mariano found himself in a narrow street, down which, after lighting his lantern and thanking the Jew, he proceeded at a rapid pace.
In the intricacies of that curious old town the youth would certainly have lost himself, but for the fact that it was built, as we have said, on the slope of a hill, so that all he had to do was to keep descending, in order to secure his final exit into the principal thoroughfare—Bab-Azoun.
Few persons met him at that hour, and these appeared desirous of avoiding observation. After passing the Bagnio with a shudder, he extinguished the lantern. And now the real danger of his enterprise had begun, because he was acting illegally in traversing the streets after dark without a light, and liable to be taken up and punished by any of the guards who should find him. He proceeded therefore with great caution; keeping close to the walls in the darkest places, and gliding into doorways to hide when any one approached. Thus he succeeded escaping observation, and had almost reached the city wall, not far from the spot where it was garnished by poor Castello’s head, when he heard the tramp of soldiers. They were about to turn a corner which would in another second have brought him full into view. To retreat was impossible, and no friendly doorway stood open to receive him. In this extremity he pressed himself into a niche formed by a pillar and an angle of the house beside him. It could not have concealed him in ordinary circumstances, but aided by darkness there was some possibility of escaping notice. Crushing himself against the wall with all his might, and wishing with all his heart that he had been a smaller man, he breathlessly awaited the passing of the soldiers.