The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale

“Come, Flaggan, let us have it without jesting,” said the consul gravely.

Thereupon Ted related in as serious a tone as it was possible for him to assume all that had been told by the Padre Giovanni.

“Our position will indeed be critical if this be true,” muttered the consul, with a look of anxiety. “Omar is a man who fears nothing, and has unbounded faith in his men and fortifications. Moreover, he is utterly regardless of consequences, and has no mercy when once roused. My poor defenceless wife and children!—if—”

“You may depend upon me, sir,” said Ted, seeing that he hesitated; “I’ll stick to ’em, I will, through—”

“I have no doubt of that, my man,” interrupted the consul, with a sad smile, “but your aid in this case will be useless. The fact is that the preservation of your life will be a more difficult matter for me to accomplish than my own. If Lord Exmouth really arrives and proceeds to extremities, I and my family will be in the greatest peril from these irate corsairs, but you, my poor fellow, are doomed whatever happens, seeing that you have laid violent hands on the Turkish guard of the gates.”

“Sure, an’ small blame to me,” said Ted.

“I do not blame you, but the Turks will, and they will do more,—they will strangle you for a certainty the moment they get hold of you, and no power that I possess can save you, so that your only chance lies in making your escape from the city, either by land or sea.”

“An’ that won’t be aisy, sur,” said the seaman, with a perplexed look.

“Indeed it will not. You may be sure that the Turks are even now searching for you, and as they know that I am here, and that you belong to my household—”

“By your lave,” said Ted suddenly, “it sames to me that it’s time for Ted Flaggan to look after his owld bones. I’m grateful to ’ee, sur.—Good-night.”

He pulled his boar-head down without awaiting a reply, and went hastily off in the direction of a small outhouse where Rais Ali was enjoying himself amid a circle of the French consul’s domestics.

Dashing forward, he seized his friend by the arm and dragged him out by main force, to the amusement of the domestics, who thought it was a practical jest.

“Arrah! don’t stare like that, but come along wid ye,” said Ted, hasting to a neighbouring thicket, into the very heart of which he penetrated before halting.

“What be go wrong?” exclaimed Rais.

“They’re after me, lad. Don’t waste time spaikin’. You’ve got your burnous here, haven’t ye?”

“Yis!”

“Go, fetch it, an’ sharp’s the word.”

Flaggan’s tone and actions were such as to instil a spirit of prompt unquestioning obedience into his friend, who instantly went off; and in a few seconds, (which seemed years to Ted), returned with his burnous.

While the seaman quickly but quietly divested himself of the boar-skin, and put on the burnous with the hood well drawn over his face, he related to his friend the incident at the gate, without, however, mentioning the true cause of his behaviour.

“An’ wat for you go be do now?” asked Rais Ali anxiously.

“To make me escape, sure,” said Ted, holding the head of his cudgel close up to his friend’s nose; “across the mountains or over the say, by hook or crook, or through the air, escape I will somehow, even though I should have to jump out at me mouth an’ lave me body behind me, for depind upon it that all the Turks an’ Moors an’ boors an’ naigers in the Pirates’ Nest ain’t able to take Ted Flaggan alive!”

“Unposs’ble!” exclaimed Rais decidedly.

“I manes to try, anyhow,” returned Ted; “so give us your flipper, owld boy; I’ve a sort o’ sneakin’ regard for ’ee, tho’ ye haven’t much to boast of in the way o’ pluck.”

“Unposs’ble!” again ejaculated Rais Ali, with greater decision than before.

“Well, good-bye to ’ee—I’m off.”

“Stay. I will save you.”

“How?” asked Ted, pausing with some impatience.

“Stay. Hold. Stop,” cried, the Moor, seizing the arm of his friend. “You be mad. Unposs’ble I say?—no, yes, poss’ble anuf for you ’scape without your body. But me save bof. Me knows hole in de rocks; come take you dere,”—here the Moor became emphatic, and lowered his voice to a whisper,—“no boddy do knows it. All dead w’at know’d it vonce. Me was a—what you call?—pirate vonce. Hah! nebber mind, come ’long. Queek, no time for d’liberazhun.”

“Git along then, old feller,” said Flaggan, thrusting his companion through the thicket very unceremoniously. “Don’t palaver so much, but take the helm; an’ wotiver ye do, clap on all sail—ivery stitch you can carry—for the case is desprit.”

Rais Ali did “clap on all sail,” steered his friend through the brightly-lighted grounds and laughing throng of revellers, through numerous lanes between hedges of aloes and prickly pear, over the Sahel hills, and away to the northward, until they reached the neighbourhood of Pointe Pescade, which lay about three and a half miles on the other side of the town.

“It’s a purty big raigion hereaway,” said Flaggan, during a brief halt to recover breath; “why shouldn’t I steer for the Great Zahairy, an’ live wi’ the Bedooin Arabs? I s’pose it’s becase they’ll always be doin’ somethin’ or other that they’ve got the name.”

“’Cause they’d robb an’ kill you,” replied Rais.

“Umph!” ejaculated Ted, as they descended to the bold rocky coast, where the celebrated pirate of old was wont to mount guard over the Mediterranean.

“Betterer for you trust to de sea,” said Rais.

“True for ye, boy—seein’ that I’m a say-farin’ man,” returned Ted.

Proceeding cautiously down a wild and almost invisible pathway among the cliffs, Rais Ali reached the base at a part where the sea ran under the overhanging rocks. Stepping into a pool which looked black and deep, but which was only a few inches at the edge, he waded slowly into the interior of a cavern, the extremity of which was quite dry. It was dark as Erebus, but flint and steel soon produced a light.

“There vas vonce a torch here,” said Rais, looking about hastily, while the vault above was lighted for a few seconds by the bunch of dry grass which he had brought with him, “but it long since me be—ah, here it is; dis am de torch.”

He lighted it, and showed his friend the form and size of the cave, reiterated that it was known to no one but himself—at least so he thought—advised him to remain close all day and keep a good look-out seaward at night, promised to return with food the following evening, and finally left him to his meditations.

Chapter Twenty Four.

The Dark Clouds begin to thicken—A Rescue attempted—Master Jim plays a Conspicuous Part

In the course of a few days the rumour reached Algiers that England was in right earnest about sending a fleet to bombard the city, and at the same time Colonel Langley learned, through information privately conveyed to him, that the report of Padre Giovanni was to some extent incorrect. The old man had misunderstood the message given to him, and represented the fleet as being in the offing, whereas it had not at that time left England.

The caution, however, was useful, inasmuch as it put the British consul on his guard.

It was at the end of one of the Mohammedan festivals when the news reached the Dey’s ears. He was engaged at the time in celebrating the festival, surrounded by his courtiers and those of the consuls who chanced to be in favour. The tribute due by Denmark and Spain not having been paid, their respective representatives were not present, and the Dey was debating in his mind the propriety of sending them to work in irons with the slaves.

Among other entertainments there was a wrestling match about to take place in the skiffa of the palace. Before proceeding to the skiffa, Omar had shown his guests his menagerie, which contained some remarkably fine specimens of the black-maned lion, with a variety of panthers, jackals, monkeys, and other animals. This was rather a trying ordeal for the nerves of the timid, because the animals were not in cages, being merely fastened by ropes to rings in the walls—all save one, called the “Spaniard,” who was exhibited as the roarer of the tribe, and had to be stirred up to partial madness occasionally to show his powers of lung; he was therefore prudently kept in a wooden cage.

Entering the skiffa, the Dey took his seat on a throne, and ordered the wrestlers to begin.

In the centre of the court was a pile of sawdust, surmounted by a flag. At a given signal two naked and well-oiled Moors of magnificent proportions rushed into the court and scattered the sawdust on the floor, after which they seized each other round their waists, and began an exciting struggle, which ended after a few minutes in one—of them being thrown. Another champion then came forward, and the scene was repeated several times, until one came off the conqueror, and obtained from the Dey a purse of gold as his reward. The unsuccessful athletes were consoled by having a handful of silver thrown into the arena to be scrambled for. It seemed as if more enjoyment was got by the spectators from the scramble than from the previous combats. After this a quantity of food was thrown to the athletes, for which another scramble ensued.

In the midst of this scene an officer of the palace was observed to whisper in the ear of the Dey, who rose immediately and left the skiffa, bringing the amusements to an abrupt close.

Thus was sounded the first clap of the thunder storm which was about to descend on the city.

The effect of it was great, and, to some of the actors in our tale, most important.

All the executions of slaves which had been ordered to take place were countermanded, except in the cases of one or two who had rendered themselves particularly obnoxious, and a few others who were unfit for labour. This was done because Omar determined to put forth all his available power to render the fortifications of the place as strong as possible. All the slaves were therefore set to work on them, but those who had been under sentence of death were kept from too great a rebound of spirits at the reprieve, by being told that the moment the work was finished their respective punishments should be inflicted. Our poor friend Mariano was thus assailed by the horrible thought, while working at the blocks of concrete, which he mixed from morning till night, that in one such block he should ere long find a living tomb.