The Hot Swamp - Robert Michael Ballantyne (debian ebook reader TXT) 📗

What is your second?"

"That you promise to visit me in my home in Albion. You know that it will be impossible for me ever again to re-visit these shores, where I have been so happy. My father, if he forgives my running away from him, will expect me to help him in the management of his affairs. But you have nothing particular to detain you here--"

"You forget--the old woman," interrupted Dromas gravely.

"What old woman?" asked Bladud in surprise.

"My mother!" returned his friend.

The prince looked a little confused and hastened to apologise. Dromas' mother was one of those unfortunate people who existed in the olden time as well as in modern days, though perhaps not so numerously. She was a confirmed invalid, who rarely quitted her house, and was seldom seen by any one save her most intimate friends, so that she was apt to be forgotten--out of sight out of mind, then as now.

"Forgive me, Dromas--," began Bladud, but his friend interrupted him.

"I cannot forgive when I have nothing to forgive! Say no more about that. But, now I come to consider of it, I grant your second request conditionally. If my mother agrees to accompany me to Albion, you may expect to see me some day or other--perhaps a year or two hence. You see, since my father and brother were slain in the last fight with our neighbours, I am the only one left to comfort her, so I cannot forsake her."

"Then this will be our final parting," returned Bladud, sadly, "for your mother will never consent to leave home."

"I don't know that," returned Dromas with a laugh. "The dear old soul is intensely adventurous, like myself, and I do believe would venture on a voyage to the Cassiterides, if the fancy were strong upon her. You have no idea how powerfully I can work upon her feelings. I won't say that I can make much impression on her intellect. Indeed, I have reason to know that she does not believe in intellect except as an unavoidable doorway leading into the feelings. The fact is, I tried her the other day with the future of cats, and do you know, instead of treating that subject with the gravity it merits, she laughed in my face and called me names--not exactly bad names, such as the gods might object to--but names that were not creditable to the intelligence of her first-born. Now," continued Dromas with increasing gravity, "when I paint to her the beauty of your native land; the splendour of your father's court; the kindliness of your mother, and the exceeding beauty of your sister--fair like yourself, blue-eyed, tall--you said she was tall, I think?"

"Yes--rather tall."

"Of course not _quite_ so tall as yourself, say six feet or so, with a slight, feminine beard--no? you shake your head; well, smooth-faced and rosy, immense breadth of shoulders--ah! I have often pictured to myself that sister of yours--"

"Hilloa!" shouted Captain Arkal in a nautical tone that might almost have been styled modern British in its character.

It was an opportune interruption, for Dromas had been running on with his jesting remarks for the sole purpose of crushing down the feelings that almost unmanned him.

With few but fervently uttered words the final farewells were at last spoken. The oars were dipped; the vessel shot from the land, swept out upon the blue waves of the Aegean, the sail was hoisted, and thus began the long voyage to the almost unknown islands of the far North-West.


CHAPTER TWO.


TEMPORARY DELAY THROUGH ELEMENTS AND PIRATES.

But it is not our purpose to inflict the entire log of that voyage on our reader, adventurous though the voyage was. Matter of much greater importance claims our regard. Still it would be unjust to our voyagers to pass it over in absolute silence.

At the very commencement of it, there occurred one of those incidents to which all voyagers are more or less subject. A gale arose the very evening of the day on which they left port, which all but swamped the little vessel, and the violence of the wind was so great that their huge sail was split from top to bottom. In spite of the darkness and the confusion that ensued, Captain Arkal, by his prompt action and skilful management, saved the vessel from immediate destruction. Fortunately the gale did not last long, and, during the calm that followed, the rent was repaired and the sail re-set.

Then occurred another incident that threatened to cut short the voyage even more disastrously than by swamping.

The sea over which they steered swarmed with pirates at the time we write of, as it continued to swarm during many centuries after. Merchantmen, fully aware of the fact, were in those days also men of war. They went forth on their voyages fully armed with sword, javelin, and shield, as well as with the simple artillery of the period--bows and arrows, slings and stones.

On the afternoon of the day that followed the gale, the vessel--which her captain and owner had named the _Penelope_ in honour of his wife-- was running before a light breeze, along the coast of one of the islands with which that sea is studded.

Bladud and some of the crew were listening at the time to an account given by a small seaman named Maikar, of a recent adventure on the sea, when a galley about as large as their own was seen to shoot suddenly from the mouth of a cavern in the cliffs in which it had lain concealed. It was double-banked and full of armed men, and was rowed in such a way as to cut in advance of the _Penelope_. The vigour with which the oars were plied, and the rapidity with which the sail was run up, left no doubt as to the nature of the craft or the intentions of those who manned it.

"The rascals!" growled Arkal with a dark frown, "I more than half expected to find them here."

"Pirates, I suppose?" said Bladud.

"Ay--and not much chance of escaping them. Give another haul on the sail-rope, mate, and pull, men, pull, if you would save your liberty-- for these brutes have no mercy."

The sail was tightened up a few inches, and the vessel was put more directly before the wind. The way in which the slaves bent to the oars showed that the poor fellows fully understood the situation.

For a few minutes Captain Arkal watched the result in stern silence. Then, with an unwonted look and tone of bitterness, he said in a low voice--

"No--I thought as much. She sails faster than we do. Now, friend Bladud, you shall presently have a chance of proving whether your royal blood is better than that of other men."

To this remark the prince made no other reply than by a good-natured smile as he took up the bronze helmet which lay beside his sword on the thwart and placed it on his head.

Captain Arkal regarded him with a sort of grim satisfaction as he followed up the action by buckling on his sword.

The sword in question was noteworthy. It was a single-handed weapon of iron, made in Egypt, to suit the size and strength of its owner, and was large enough to have served as a two-handed sword for most men.

"You can throw a javelin, no doubt?" asked the captain, as he watched the young man's leisurely preparations for the expected combat.

"Yes, I have practised throwing the spear a good deal--both in peace and war."

"Good. I have got one here that will suit you. It belonged to my grandfather, who was a stout man, and made powerful play with it during a neighbouring tribe's raid--when I was a baby--to the discomfort, I have been told, and surprise of his foes. I always keep it by me for luck, and have myself used it on occasion, though I prefer a lighter one for ordinary use. Here it is--a pretty weapon," he continued, drawing a javelin of gigantic proportions from under the gunwale and handing it to Bladud. "But we must proceed with caution in this matter. Take off your helmet at present, and try to look frightened if you can."

"I fear me that will be difficult, captain."

"Not in the least. Look here, nothing is easier when you get used to it."

As he spoke Arkal caused his stern visage to relax into a look of such amiable sheepishness that Bladud could not repress a sudden laugh which recalled and intensified the captain's fierce expression instantly.

"Learn to subdue yourself, young man," he muttered sternly. "If these pirates hear laughter, do you think they can be made to believe we are afraid of them?"

"Forgive me, captain; if you had seen your own face, you would have joined in the laugh. I will be more careful. But how do you mean to proceed, and what do you wish me to do?"

Captain Arkal, who was restored to good-humour by this compliment to his power of expression, as well as by the modesty with which the prince received his rebuke, explained his intentions--in low, earnest tones, however, for they were by that time drawing near to the piratical craft.

Having got well ahead of the _Penelope_, it had backed its sail and lay still, awaiting her coming up.

"Creep to the bow, Bladud, with your helmet off, and show as little of your bulk as may be. Show only your head above the bulwarks, and look as miserable as I did just now--more so if you can. Take your sword, javelin, and shield with you. I need say no more to a man of war. Use them when you see your opportunity."

Bladud received his orders in silence, and obeyed them with that unquestioning and unhesitating promptitude which is one of the surest evidences of fitness to command. Meanwhile the mate, who was accustomed to his captain's habits, and needed no instructions, had caused the sailors to lay their shields and swords out of sight at their feet, so that they might approach the pirates in the character of simple traders who were completely cowed by the appearance of the foe. To increase this aspect of fear, the sail was lowered as they drew near, and the oars were used to complete the distance that yet intervened between the two vessels.

This humble and submissive approach did not, however, throw the pirates quite off their guard. They stood to their arms and prepared to spring on board their victim when close enough. As the pirate vessel lay motionless on the water she presented her broadside to the trader. The captain took care to steer so that this relative position should be maintained. The pirate chief, a huge man in rude armour, with a breast-plate of thick bull-hide and a shield of the same on his left arm, gave orders to pull the oars on one side of his vessel so that the two might be brought alongside.

They were about fifty yards apart at the moment. Before the order could be carried into effect, however, Arkal uttered a low hiss. Instantly the double banks of oars bent almost to the breaking point, and the _Penelope_ leaped forward like