Jack Harkaway's Boy Tinker Among The Turks - Bracebridge Hemyng (10 ebook reader .txt) 📗
- Author: Bracebridge Hemyng
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The counsel for the defence then challenged the prosecution to produce any evidence that the prisoners had passed bad money, and the public prosecutor was obliged to confess that he could not do so.
Whereupon the judge remarked that the prosecution had utterly failed, and directed the prisoners to be discharged.
But Lenoir and Murray were directed to be kept in separate cells till they could be tried, and Chivey was ordered like accommodation.
And having now plenty of time for reflection, Herbert Murray sat with irons on his arms and legs, thinking dolefully over the past, and thinking whether, after all, honesty would not have proved the best policy.
CHAPTER CV.
A LAST VIEW OF MURRAY AND CHIVEY.
"Hurrah, dad!"
"Hurrah, my boy! Now, then, one and all. Hip, hip, hip——"
"Hurrah!"
The peal that burst from the throats of the reunited English party fairly astonished the assembled crowd of citizens who were flocking out of the hall of justice.
And then such a shaking of hands and kissing!
The latter form of insanity at length became infectious, and the two black imps Tinker and Bogey insisted on pressing a chaste salute on Mr. Mole's coy lips, to the intense amusement of the bystanders.
"Get out, you black devils!" exclaimed he.
"Why, Massa Mole, we been good friends dis long time in dat 'ere ole prison; you isn't a-gwine to turn round on de poor niggahs now we's got out."
"Get away. Never mind, don't get away; I'm not proud—hurrah!"
In his excitement Mr. Mole threw his battered hat a great height into the air, but slipping while so doing, he sat down upon the pavement rather violently.
"Sac-r-r-r-ré! seize that old villain!"
The indignant command came from a mounted officer in charge of a considerable body of soldiers.
While directing the movements of his men, drawn sword in hand, down came Mole's chapeau on the point of the deadly weapon, which went through the crown, and the lining getting entangled with the hilt, it could not be very readily moved.
And, of course, the French spectators at once began laughing to see the rather absurd situation of the officer.
Mole would certainly have been dragged off again had not the British consul once more interposed.
"Monsieur le Colonel, I hasten to assure you that it was an accident," he said.
"I will not be insulted by accident; arrest him!"
"But consider, sir, you have no crime to urge against him."
"Bah, what care I?"
"He will apologise."
"Of course he will," said Harvey, thinking it time to interpose. "Here, where are you, Mr. Mole?"
"Down here, sitting on the other end of me," responded the ex-tutor in very doleful accents.
"An apology!" said the excited officer, who had dismounted, and was brandishing his weapon as though about to sacrifice Mole.
But poor Mole seemed altogether too confused to say the soothing words required, so the consul again interfered.
"Really, Monsieur le Colonel, this poor gentleman seems to have sustained some severe injury. You will see he has lost both legs in a series of heroic actions, the particulars of which I have not time to give you, but accept my assurance that the affair of the hat was entirely an accident."
"Lost legs in action! Ah, then it becomes my duty to apologise for the hasty language I have used to a brave soldier."
As things were changing a little, Mole thought it time to become conscious, and with the aid of Tinker and Bogey, he struggled to his feet.
"Monsieur," continued the officer, "I withdraw my words."
"Enough said, my dear sir," responded Mole; "let the matter drop, I pray."
The officer gave a military salute, restored the perforated hat to its owner, and rejoined his men.
"Really imprisonment seems to have no effect on you, Mr. Mole," said Harvey; "you begin your old pranks the moment you are released."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, you pass yourself off as an old soldier."
"No, it was our good friend the consul."
"Well, you allowed the colonel to deceive himself."
"It's all the result of my really martial aspect, my dear boy."
And Mole hobbled on, trying to sustain his military appearance.
Our friends did not at once leave Marseilles.
They were informed that perhaps they might be required to give evidence against Murray, so they took up their residence in the best hotel of the place and waited, the elders of the party being perfectly content now that the youngsters had regained their liberty.
However, as events turned out, they were not called upon to attend the trial of the shipowner's son, as Monsieur Hocquart Clermont Delamarre and his assistants managed to pile up quite sufficient proof to convince the judge of Herbert Murray's guilt.
He, Lenoir, and Chivey, who certainly was not so deeply involved as his master, were sentenced to serve ten years each in the galleys.
Lenoir's original sentence was fifteen years, but the promised intercession of the consul was effectual in shortening it to ten.
There was, however, another trial, at which young Jack and Harry Girdwood were requested to attend, and the prisoner in this case was the gaoler to whom they had entrusted their letters to the consul.
He being clearly convicted of receiving bribes from prisoners, was sentenced to two years' imprisonment, and so retires from the scene.
Young Jack, his parents, Harry Girdwood, Harvey, little Emily, and Paquita were taking a walk in the neighborhood of the harbour one morning, when they became aware of a very dismal-looking procession coming down the road from the prison.
First of all came half a dozen soldiers, trailing their rifles, which were evidently loaded and ready for instant use.
Then, in single file, about a yard behind each other, and every man with his right leg attached by a ring to a long chain that extended the entire length of the party, came ten men clad in garments of very coarse serge, and with closely-cropped heads.
The instant he saw them in the distance, young Jack guessed what it meant, and pointed the gang out to the others.
"Let us get away if we can," said he.
"Why?" asked Harvey.
"Because it will look as though we came here simply to gloat over their disgrace," replied Jack.
"Right, my boy."
But there was no way of avoiding them, as there was no turning out of the street, and all the house doors were closed, so they were compelled to see all.
First of all came seven of the lowest-looking ruffians in creation, villains whose countenances were expressive of nothing but brutality and vice; the eighth was Chivey, whose cheeks bore traces of tears, and the ninth was Pierre Lenoir, who walked erect and proud as Lucifer, except when he made a half turn about as though he would like to strangle Herbert Murray, who walked with tottering steps at the end of the chain.
"Poor fellows!" said Mrs. Harkaway.
"They deserve it," exclaimed her husband and Harvey, simultaneously. "They tried to get our boys the very punishment that has overtaken them."
Our friends, however, had seen enough, and did not care to witness what followed.
If they had gone inside the harbour gates, they might have seen three or four very long sharp-bowed vessels moored to the quay or lying at anchor a little way out.
Neither mast nor sail had these vessels, but from each side projected a dozen or more of gigantic oars larger than those used by Thames bargemen.
Had they gone down to the harbour they would presently have seen chained up, two of them to each oar, but with their feet so far at liberty that they could move backwards and forwards three paces.
Then they would have heard the word of command given, and would have seen the poor slaves tugging away at the oars till the huge craft was sweeping rapidly out to sea, while the galley-master walking up and down between the two rows of oarsmen, gave blows of his whip on the right hand or the left when he saw a man flagging, or an oar that did not swing in unison with the rest.
Such was the fate to which the career of crime had brought the son of the once respected shipowner Murray.
Slavery from morn till night, beneath a broiling sun, or exposed to cold, rain, and hail, the coarsest of black bread and lentil pottage, formed his scanty meal; his associates the lowest type of humanity.
And even over and above such a hard lot there fell upon his heart the craven fear some day that Lenoir, who was chained to the next oar, would break loose and kill him.
Many would have preferred death to such slavery, but Herbert Murray feared to die.
"Hollo, Englishman, faster!" the galley-master would shout. And then his whip or cane would sharply visit poor Murray's shoulders.
And the chuckling voice of Lenoir would be heard, exclaiming—
"Ah, traitor! this is nothing to what you will suffer when I have my chance for revenge."
CHAPTER CVI.
TERRIBLE RAILWAY ACCIDENT.
Three days after Murray and Chivey embarked on their dreary voyage the Harkaway party quitted Marseilles.
The waiter and the diver, so long young Jack's companions in adventure, preferred remaining at Marseilles.
They had no home ties, and had so long been accustomed to a wandering Continental life, that they had no great desire to settle down quietly in England.
However, Harkaway senior made them a handsome present each, and he also presented Monsieur Hocquart Clermont Delamarre with a very substantial proof of his esteem and gratitude, and the detective was further gratified by receiving from the two young ladies, Paquita and Emily, a handsomely-mounted carte de visite portrait.
"And now for home!" exclaimed our young hero.
"You will be sorry when you get there, won't you?" said Emily.
"No, dear; why should I be?"
"Because in England you can't go on as you have been doing, running away with fair Circass——"
There was nobody looking, so Jack took the liberty of cutting the reproach short with a kiss.
"You must not say any thing more about that, dear Emily; and, after all, I don't think you would have approved of my leaving her to the mercy of those Turks."
"That I should not, Jack."
The youth then handed his young sweetheart into one of the vehicles in waiting, and off they started for the railway, where they found they had to wait ten minutes.
To occupy the time they strolled up and down the platform.
Suddenly Harry Girdwood exclaimed—
"Why, where is Mr. Mole? Did he come in your carriage, Jack?"
"No; I thought he was with you."
"Left behind, by Jove!" exclaimed Harvey.
"Serve him right if I left him behind entirely," said Harkaway senior, rather angrily.
He was on the point of sending one of the porters back to the hotel, when Mr. Mole appeared.
Now there were two things that had delayed him.
One was that on the very morning Mr. Mole had mounted a new pair of artificial legs made by the very best surgical instrument maker in Marseilles.
Some time had been taken over the proper adjustment of these.
For the second reason—Mr. Mole had discovered that the hotel cellars contained some excellent brandy, and he had been taking a parting glass with the Irish diver before commencing his journey.
And as he now made his appearance on the railway platform, he was any thing but steady on his new legs.
"Better late than never, Mr. Mole," said Harvey.
"I am not late."
"Yes, sir. Two minutes more, and the train will be here."
An engine was in fact at that moment shunting some carriages which were to be attached to the train.
Mr. Mole turned on hearing the noise of the approaching locomotive.
But being, as aforesaid, slightly unsteady on his legs, he fell.
Fell right across the metals.
"Oh! help!" he cried.
But before anyone could stir, the engine was upon him.
The porters shouted, the ladies screamed with fright.
"Oh, Heaven! is it not horrible?" exclaimed a French man. "Did you not hear the bones crash as the wheels went over his legs?"
"Over his legs," shouted Harvey. "Ha, ha! if that is all, it does not matter much."
The engine stopped, and Mole was rescued from his perilous position.
He had fainted, but a
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