The Middy and the Moors - Robert Michael Ballantyne (best ebook reader android .TXT) 📗

seat. His figure was, therefore, prominent, as he sat there worn, weary, and dejected, consuming his allowance of black bread. Peter the Great knew him at once, having already, as the reader knows, seen him in his slave garb; but Hester's anxious eyes failed for a few moments to pick out the emaciated frame and strangely clad, ragged figure which represented her once jovial, stalwart, and well-clothed father.

"Das him," whispered Peter, as he loosely grasped the girl's arm by way of precaution.

"Where--oh, where?" asked the poor creature, glancing round among the slaves.

"Now, 'member your promise. Spoil eberyt'ing if you screech or run to him. Look, dis way! De man what's settin' on de stone!"

"Yes, yes, I see! Oh--"

She stopped abruptly and trembled, for at the moment her father turned his woe-begone face unconsciously towards her. Even the much-increased grey tinge in the hair and beard, the lines of despair on the brow, and the hollow cheeks could not disguise the face that she loved so well. A sharp cry burst from her, and she made an attempt to rush towards him, but the iron grip of Peter restrained her.

"It's a dead man he'll be if you do!" he said, in a stern but low tone. "Don't you see de janissary? Your _promise_--"

"Yes, yes! I'll restrain myself _now_, Peter. Do let me stay a minute--just to look--"

"No, _no_! Come 'long wid you--idle t'ing!" he exclaimed, with sudden severity, and apparent though not real violence, for at the moment his watchful eye had observed one of the slave guards approaching them.

As the two went hurriedly past the place where Hugh Sommers was sitting, he looked up with an expression of pity.

"Poor thing!" he said. "The black scoundrel is cruel to you, and I am powerless to kick him!"

He clinked the fetters on his legs significantly as he spoke.

The mingled pathos and indignation of the loved voice was too much for poor Hester. She was on the point of exclaiming "Father!" when Peter's great black paw extinguished her mouth, and was not removed till they were out of danger.

"You's like all de rest ob de womans," said the negro, as they hurried through the streets; "awrful dif'cult to manidge. Come 'long, we'll go home and hab a talk ober it."

Hester was too miserable to reply. She did not again speak till they were both safe in the boudoir.

There she sat down on the bed, laid her face in her hands, and burst into a passion of tears, while Peter stood looking on, his head nearly touching the low ceiling, his bulky frame filling half the remainder of the little room, and two mighty unbidden tears in his great eyes.

"Das right, Geo'giana," he said, in a soft voice; "cry away, it'll do you good. Nuffin like cryin' w'en you's fit to bust! An' w'en you's got it ober we'll talk all about it."

"Oh, Peter!" cried Hester, drying her eyes somewhat impatiently; "how _could_ you be so cruel? Why--why could you not have waited just one minute to let me look at him?"

"Because, my dear, de man wid de whip was comin', an' he'd bery soon hab laid it across my back," replied the negro gently.

"And what if he had done so?" demanded Hester, with a slight touch of indignation; "could you not have suffered a little whipping for my sake?"

"Yes, Geo'giana," returned Peter, with much humility, "I could suffer great deal more'n dat for your sake; but dere's no sich t'ings as _little_ whippin's know'd ob in dis yar town. W'en de lash am goin' he usu'lly makes de hair fly. Moreober, dey whip womans as well as mans, an' if he was to took de bit out ob your pretty shoulder, I couldn't suffer dat, you know. Likewise," continued Peter, becoming more argumentative in his manner, "you was just a-goin' to took de bit in your teef; an' if you'd bin allowed to frow your arms round your fadder's neck an' rub all de black ober his face what would hab bin de consikence?"

Peter felt his position so strong at this point that he put the question almost triumphantly, and Hester was constrained to acknowledge that he had acted wisely after all.

"But," continued she, with still a little of reproach in her tone, "what was the use of taking me to see my darling father at all, if this is all that is to come of it?"

"You's a leetle obstropolous in you' fancies, Geo'giana. Dis am _not_ all what's to come ob it. You see, I has pity on your poo' heart, so I t'ink you might go ebery oder day an' hab a good look at your fadder; but how kin you go if you not know whar he works? So I tooked you to show you de way. But I's a'most sorry I did now, for you's got no self-'straint, an' if you goes by you'self you'll git took up for sartin', an' dey'll whip your fadder till he's dead, or frow him on de hooks, or skin him alive, or--"

"Oh, horrible! Don't say such dreadful things, Peter!" exclaimed Hester, covering her face with her hands.

Feeling that he had said quite enough to impress the poor girl with the absolute necessity of being careful, he promised earnestly never again to allude to such dreadful things.

"But, Geo'giana," he added impressively, "you mus' promise me on your word ob honour, w'ich Geo'ge Foster says English gen'lemans _neber_ break--an' I s'pose he's right."

"Yes, quite right, Peter; true gentlemen _never_ break their word."

"An' I s'pose female gen'lemans am de same."

"Of course! Go on," replied the girl, with a faint smile.

"Well, as I was 'bout to say, you mus' promise me on your word ob honour, dat you'll neber go _alone_ to see your fadder, but allers in company wid Sally; dat you neber, neber speak to him, an' dat you neber make you'self know'd to him till de right time comes."

"These are hard conditions, Peter, but I see the reasonableness of them all, and promise--at least I promise to do my best."

"Das 'nuff, Geo'giana. Neezer man nor womans kin do more'n deir best. Now I mus' bid you good-day, so keep up your heart an' you'll see eberyt'ing come right in de end."

With these cheering words the sympathetic negro took his leave; and Hester, resuming her embroidery, sat down at her little window, not to work, but to gaze dreamily at the beautiful sea, and cast about in her mind how she should act in order to alleviate if possible her father's sad condition.

That very afternoon she received a visit from her stolid but affectionate friend Sally, who at once said that she knew of a splendid plan for doing him a great deal of good.

"And what is your plan?" asked Hester eagerly.

"Gib him two or t'ree biscuits," said Sally.

Her friend received the suggestion with a look of disappointment.

"What a stupid thing you are, Sally! How could that do him any good?"

Sally looked at her friend with an air of pity.

"Didn't you say he was awrful t'in?" she asked.

"Thin? Oh yes--dreadfully thin."

"Well, den, isn't dat 'cause he not hab 'nuff to eat? _I_ knows it, bress you! I's bin wid a missis as starved me. Sometimes I t'ink I could eat my shoes. Ob course I got awrful t'in--so t'in dat w'en I stood side-wise you could hardly see me. Well, what de way to get fat an' strong? Why, eat, ob course. Eat--eat--eat. Das de way. Now, your fadder git not'ing but black bread, an' not 'nuff ob dat; an' he git plenty hard work too, so he git t'in. So, what I prupposes is to gib him two good biskits ebery day. We couldn't gib him more'n two, 'cause he'd hab to hide what he couldn't eat at once, an' de drivers would be sure to diskiver 'em. But two biskits could be gobbled quick on de sly, an' would help to make him fat, an' to make you easy."

"So they would," said Hester, eagerly entertaining the idea after this explanation; "you're a clever girl, Sally--"

"You say I's stoopid jest now!"

"So I did, Sally. Forgive me! I was stupid besides unkind for saying so. But how shall we manage it? Won't the guards see us doing it?"

"No fear, Geo'giana! De guards am fools--t'ink dere's nobody like 'em. Dey forgit. All de asses in Algiers am like 'em. Dis de way ob it. You an' me we'll go to markit ebery day wid baskits on our arms, an we'll ob course go round by de walls, where your fadder works. No doubt it's a roundabout way, but what ob dat? We'll go at de hour your fadder feeds wid de oder slabes, an' as we pass we'll drop de two biskits in his lap."

"But won't he be taken by surprise, Sally?"

"De fust time--yes; but dat won't prevent him gobblin' up de biskits quick. Neber fear, you an' me'll manidge it 'tween us."

"Thank you, dear Sally, I'll never, _never_ forget your kindness, and we will try your plan to-morrow."


CHAPTER THIRTEEN.


HESTER AND HER FATHER SEVERELY TESTED.

The very next day, accordingly, Hester Sommers and her friend sallied forth to present Hugh Sommers with a couple of biscuits!

It was arranged that the two girls should carry baskets of fruit on their heads, and that Hester should have the biscuits conveniently in her right hand, so as to be able to drop them into her father's lap without stopping or even checking her pace as they passed.

Of course, Hester was by this time thoroughly alive to the danger of her intended proceedings, both to herself and her father, and was firmly resolved to restrain her feelings. Nevertheless, she could not help trembling when she came in sight of the gang, with which her father worked.

Sally observed this and grasped her by the arm.

"Geo'giana," she said, "if you gibs way, or speaks, or trembles, or busts up in any way, I grips you by de neck, as I once did before, an' shobes you along wid scolds and whacks--so you look out!"

"Anxiety for my darling father will be a much more powerful restraint, Sally, than your threats," replied the poor girl.

Nevertheless, the threat was not without its effect, for it showed Hester that she must have been on the point of giving way, and impressed on her more than ever the necessity of self-restraint.

"W'ich am him? I don't see him," said the negress as they advanced.

"There he is, don't you see, just before us," replied Hester, in a low, hurried voice.

"No, I's growin' blind, I t'ink."

"There--look! by himself, on the stone. He seems always to sit on the same spot at dinner-time."

"Oh yes, I sees. Now you go on--stiddy. Mind what you's about!"

With a brief prayer for help to control herself, Hester went straight to where her father sat. He was languidly chewing a piece of the regulation black bread