The Pirate City - Robert Michael Ballantyne (grave mercy TXT) 📗
- Author: Robert Michael Ballantyne
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Such an opportunity soon occurred, at least so thought the consul, in the arrival of the "Prometheus," a British war-vessel of 18 guns, but Colonel Langley found, as many have discovered before him, that "there is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip," for the Dey suddenly took a high position, and absolutely refused to allow the British consul to depart.
Captain Dashwood, the commander of the "Prometheus," on his first interview with the Dey, saw that there was no chance whatever of getting off the consul by fair means, for Omar treated him with studied hauteur and insolence.
"I know perfectly well," said he, at the conclusion of the conference, "that your fleet, which report tells me has already left England, is destined for Algiers. Is it not so?"
"I have no official information, your highness," replied Captain Dashwood. "If you have received such news, you know as much as I do, and probably from the same source--the public prints."
"From whence I have it is a matter of no moment," returned the Dey, as he abruptly closed the conference.
Immediately after, Captain Dashwood informed the consul of his intention of sending a boat ashore next morning, with the ostensible motive of making final proposals to the Dey, but really for the purpose of carrying out his plans, which he related in detail.
Accordingly, next morning, the captain proceeded to the palace, and kept the Dey in complimentary converse as long as was possible with a man of such brusque and impatient temperament.
While thus engaged, several of the men and midshipmen of the "Prometheus" proceeded to the consul's house. They did so in separate detachments, and some of them returned once or twice to the boat, as if for some small things that had been forgotten, thus confusing the guards as to the numbers of those who had landed.
When Captain Dashwood again returned to his boat there were two more midshipmen in it than the number that had left his ship--one being the consul's wife, the other his daughter Agnes! Master Jim, however, had been left behind, owing to the arrangements not having been sufficient to meet his requirements. Poor Mrs Langley had left him with agonised self-reproach, on being assured that he should be fetched off on the morrow. Colonel Langley was of course obliged to remain with him.
When the morrow came another boat was sent ashore with baskets for provisions. One of these baskets was taken to the consul's house. It was in charge of the surgeon of the ship, as Master Jim required the services of a professional gentleman on the occasion.
All went well at first. The boat was manned by several men and midshipmen, who went innocently to market to purchase provisions. The surgeon, a remarkably cool and self-possessed individual, went to the consul's house, with a Jack-tar--equally cool and self-possessed-- carrying the basket.
"Now then, let's see how smartly we can do it," said the surgeon, on entering Colonel Langley's nursery. "Is your child tractable?"
"Very much the reverse," replied the Colonel, with a smile.
"Umph! can't be helped.--Set down the basket, my man, and come and hold him."
Now the Zaharian Zubby, not having been let into the secret of the mysterious proceedings that followed, became a source of unexpected danger and annoyance to the surgeon and his friends. She watched the former with some interest, while he mixed a small powder in the family medicine-glass, and when he advanced with it to Master Jim, her large eyes dilated so that the amount of white formed an absolutely appalling contrast with her ebony visage. But when she saw Master Jim decline the draught with his wonted decision of character, thereby rendering it necessary for the nautical man to put powerful restraint on his struggling limbs, and to hold his nose while the surgeon forced open his mouth and poured the contents of the family glass down his throat, and when, in addition to all this, she beheld Colonel Langley standing calmly by with an air of comparative indifference while this hideous cruelty was being practised on his son and heir, her warm heart could stand no more. Uttering a series of wild shrieks, she ran at the nautical man, scored his face down with her ten fingers, seized the choking Jim in her arms, and thrust her fore-finger down his little throat with the humane view of enabling him to part with the nauseous draught which he had been compelled to swallow.
Master Jim had convulsed himself twice, and had actually got rid of a little of the draught, before the surgeon could recover him from the irate negress.
"I hope he hasn't lost much of it," remarked the surgeon, looking anxiously at the howling boy as he held him fast. "I brought only one dose of the drug, but we shall see in a few minutes.--Do stop the noise of that screeching imp of blackness," he added, turning a look of anger on Zubby, whose grief was, like her mirth, obstreperous.
"I wish as some 'un had pared her nails afore I comed here," growled the nautical man.
"Hush, Zubby," said Colonel Langley, taking the girl kindly by the arm; "we are doing Jim no harm; you'll bring the janissaries in to see who is being murdered if you go on so--hush!"
But Zubby would not hush; the Colonel therefore called his black cook and handed her over to him--who, being a fellow-countryman, and knowing what a Zaharian frame could endure, carried her into an adjoining room and quietly choked her.
"He's going--all right," said the surgeon, with a look and nod of satisfaction, as the child, lying in the nautical man's arms, dropt suddenly into a profound slumber.
"Now, we will pack him.--Stay, has he a cloak or shawl of any kind?" said the surgeon, looking round.
"Zubby alone knows where his mysterious wardrobe is to be found," replied the Colonel.
"Then let the creature find it," cried the surgeon impatiently; "we have no time to lose."
Zubby was brought back and told to wrap her treasure in something warm, which she willingly did, under the impression that she was about to be ordered to take him out for a walk, but the tears which still bedimmed her eyes, coupled with agitation, caused her to perform her wonted duty clumsily, and to stick a variety of pins in various unnecessary places. She was then sent to the kitchen with some trivial message to the cook.
While she was away, Master Jim was packed in the bottom of the vegetable basket, and a quantity of cabbages, cauliflowers, etcetera, were placed above him. The basket was given to the nautical man to carry. Then the surgeon and the consul went out arm-in-arm, followed by two midshipmen, who were in attendance in the hall. Robinson--so the nautical man was named--brought up the rear.
They proceeded along the street Bab-el-Oued for some distance, and then, passing the mosque near the slave-market, descended the street that led to the Marina, and the place where the boat of the "Prometheus" lay in waiting.
The consul and surgeon affected to talk and laugh lightly as they approached the gate, and were permitted to pass, the guard supposing, no doubt, that the British consul was exercising his wonted civility in conducting his friends down to their boat. But fate, in the form of Zubby, was unfavourable to them. Either that loving damsel's finger had been more effective than was at first supposed, or the pins were operating with unwonted pungency, but certain it is, that just as Mr Robinson was passing under the gateway, Master Jim awoke from his profound slumber. Feeling, although not naturally dyspeptic, that the cabbages weighed heavy on his stomach, he set up such a howl, and struck out so violently, that the lid of the basket was forced up, and sundry vegetables rolled before the eyes of the astonished Turks.
Of course Master Jim and his bearer were taken prisoners, but the evil did not stop here, for the officer of the guard at once ordered the arrest of the consul himself, as well as the surgeon, the midshipmen, and the boat's crew of the "Prometheus," and the whole were thrust into the dungeons of the common prison--the consul, by special order of the Dey, being loaded with iron fetters.
The dismay of poor Mrs Langley and Agnes when they heard of the fate of the consul and his child may be imagined. It was however mitigated in some degree when, next morning, a boat came off to the "Prometheus" containing Master Jim himself, in charge of the faithful Zubby!
Whether it was that Omar deemed the child a useless encumbrance or a valueless article, or was visited by one of those touches of compunction which are well-known to assail at times the breasts of even the worst of pirates, we cannot tell; but no such clemency was extended to Jim's father. The Dey positively refused either to give him up or to promise his personal safety, nor would he listen to a word respecting the officers and men whom he had seized.
This was the news with which Captain Dashwood left Algiers, and which, some days later, he delivered to Lord Exmouth, when he met the British fleet on its way to the city, with the view of bringing the pirates to their senses.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
THE COMING STRUGGLE LOOMS ON THE HORIZON.
Such an opportunity soon occurred, at least so thought the consul, in the arrival of the "Prometheus," a British war-vessel of 18 guns, but Colonel Langley found, as many have discovered before him, that "there is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip," for the Dey suddenly took a high position, and absolutely refused to allow the British consul to depart.
Captain Dashwood, the commander of the "Prometheus," on his first interview with the Dey, saw that there was no chance whatever of getting off the consul by fair means, for Omar treated him with studied hauteur and insolence.
"I know perfectly well," said he, at the conclusion of the conference, "that your fleet, which report tells me has already left England, is destined for Algiers. Is it not so?"
"I have no official information, your highness," replied Captain Dashwood. "If you have received such news, you know as much as I do, and probably from the same source--the public prints."
"From whence I have it is a matter of no moment," returned the Dey, as he abruptly closed the conference.
Immediately after, Captain Dashwood informed the consul of his intention of sending a boat ashore next morning, with the ostensible motive of making final proposals to the Dey, but really for the purpose of carrying out his plans, which he related in detail.
Accordingly, next morning, the captain proceeded to the palace, and kept the Dey in complimentary converse as long as was possible with a man of such brusque and impatient temperament.
While thus engaged, several of the men and midshipmen of the "Prometheus" proceeded to the consul's house. They did so in separate detachments, and some of them returned once or twice to the boat, as if for some small things that had been forgotten, thus confusing the guards as to the numbers of those who had landed.
When Captain Dashwood again returned to his boat there were two more midshipmen in it than the number that had left his ship--one being the consul's wife, the other his daughter Agnes! Master Jim, however, had been left behind, owing to the arrangements not having been sufficient to meet his requirements. Poor Mrs Langley had left him with agonised self-reproach, on being assured that he should be fetched off on the morrow. Colonel Langley was of course obliged to remain with him.
When the morrow came another boat was sent ashore with baskets for provisions. One of these baskets was taken to the consul's house. It was in charge of the surgeon of the ship, as Master Jim required the services of a professional gentleman on the occasion.
All went well at first. The boat was manned by several men and midshipmen, who went innocently to market to purchase provisions. The surgeon, a remarkably cool and self-possessed individual, went to the consul's house, with a Jack-tar--equally cool and self-possessed-- carrying the basket.
"Now then, let's see how smartly we can do it," said the surgeon, on entering Colonel Langley's nursery. "Is your child tractable?"
"Very much the reverse," replied the Colonel, with a smile.
"Umph! can't be helped.--Set down the basket, my man, and come and hold him."
Now the Zaharian Zubby, not having been let into the secret of the mysterious proceedings that followed, became a source of unexpected danger and annoyance to the surgeon and his friends. She watched the former with some interest, while he mixed a small powder in the family medicine-glass, and when he advanced with it to Master Jim, her large eyes dilated so that the amount of white formed an absolutely appalling contrast with her ebony visage. But when she saw Master Jim decline the draught with his wonted decision of character, thereby rendering it necessary for the nautical man to put powerful restraint on his struggling limbs, and to hold his nose while the surgeon forced open his mouth and poured the contents of the family glass down his throat, and when, in addition to all this, she beheld Colonel Langley standing calmly by with an air of comparative indifference while this hideous cruelty was being practised on his son and heir, her warm heart could stand no more. Uttering a series of wild shrieks, she ran at the nautical man, scored his face down with her ten fingers, seized the choking Jim in her arms, and thrust her fore-finger down his little throat with the humane view of enabling him to part with the nauseous draught which he had been compelled to swallow.
Master Jim had convulsed himself twice, and had actually got rid of a little of the draught, before the surgeon could recover him from the irate negress.
"I hope he hasn't lost much of it," remarked the surgeon, looking anxiously at the howling boy as he held him fast. "I brought only one dose of the drug, but we shall see in a few minutes.--Do stop the noise of that screeching imp of blackness," he added, turning a look of anger on Zubby, whose grief was, like her mirth, obstreperous.
"I wish as some 'un had pared her nails afore I comed here," growled the nautical man.
"Hush, Zubby," said Colonel Langley, taking the girl kindly by the arm; "we are doing Jim no harm; you'll bring the janissaries in to see who is being murdered if you go on so--hush!"
But Zubby would not hush; the Colonel therefore called his black cook and handed her over to him--who, being a fellow-countryman, and knowing what a Zaharian frame could endure, carried her into an adjoining room and quietly choked her.
"He's going--all right," said the surgeon, with a look and nod of satisfaction, as the child, lying in the nautical man's arms, dropt suddenly into a profound slumber.
"Now, we will pack him.--Stay, has he a cloak or shawl of any kind?" said the surgeon, looking round.
"Zubby alone knows where his mysterious wardrobe is to be found," replied the Colonel.
"Then let the creature find it," cried the surgeon impatiently; "we have no time to lose."
Zubby was brought back and told to wrap her treasure in something warm, which she willingly did, under the impression that she was about to be ordered to take him out for a walk, but the tears which still bedimmed her eyes, coupled with agitation, caused her to perform her wonted duty clumsily, and to stick a variety of pins in various unnecessary places. She was then sent to the kitchen with some trivial message to the cook.
While she was away, Master Jim was packed in the bottom of the vegetable basket, and a quantity of cabbages, cauliflowers, etcetera, were placed above him. The basket was given to the nautical man to carry. Then the surgeon and the consul went out arm-in-arm, followed by two midshipmen, who were in attendance in the hall. Robinson--so the nautical man was named--brought up the rear.
They proceeded along the street Bab-el-Oued for some distance, and then, passing the mosque near the slave-market, descended the street that led to the Marina, and the place where the boat of the "Prometheus" lay in waiting.
The consul and surgeon affected to talk and laugh lightly as they approached the gate, and were permitted to pass, the guard supposing, no doubt, that the British consul was exercising his wonted civility in conducting his friends down to their boat. But fate, in the form of Zubby, was unfavourable to them. Either that loving damsel's finger had been more effective than was at first supposed, or the pins were operating with unwonted pungency, but certain it is, that just as Mr Robinson was passing under the gateway, Master Jim awoke from his profound slumber. Feeling, although not naturally dyspeptic, that the cabbages weighed heavy on his stomach, he set up such a howl, and struck out so violently, that the lid of the basket was forced up, and sundry vegetables rolled before the eyes of the astonished Turks.
Of course Master Jim and his bearer were taken prisoners, but the evil did not stop here, for the officer of the guard at once ordered the arrest of the consul himself, as well as the surgeon, the midshipmen, and the boat's crew of the "Prometheus," and the whole were thrust into the dungeons of the common prison--the consul, by special order of the Dey, being loaded with iron fetters.
The dismay of poor Mrs Langley and Agnes when they heard of the fate of the consul and his child may be imagined. It was however mitigated in some degree when, next morning, a boat came off to the "Prometheus" containing Master Jim himself, in charge of the faithful Zubby!
Whether it was that Omar deemed the child a useless encumbrance or a valueless article, or was visited by one of those touches of compunction which are well-known to assail at times the breasts of even the worst of pirates, we cannot tell; but no such clemency was extended to Jim's father. The Dey positively refused either to give him up or to promise his personal safety, nor would he listen to a word respecting the officers and men whom he had seized.
This was the news with which Captain Dashwood left Algiers, and which, some days later, he delivered to Lord Exmouth, when he met the British fleet on its way to the city, with the view of bringing the pirates to their senses.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
THE COMING STRUGGLE LOOMS ON THE HORIZON.
The barbarians of Barbary had roused the wrath of England to an extreme pitch in consequence of a deed which did not, indeed, much excel their wonted atrocities, but which, being on a large scale, and very public, had attracted unusual attention--all the more that, about the same time, the European nations, having killed as many of each other as they thought advisable for _that_ time, were comparatively set free to attend to so-called minor affairs.
The deed referred to was to the effect that on the 23rd of May 1816 the crews of the coral fishing-boats at Bona--about 200 miles eastward of Algiers--landed to attend mass on Ascension Day. They were attacked, without a shadow of reason or provocation, by Turkish troops, and massacred in cold blood.
Previous to this Lord Exmouth had been on the Barbary coast making treaties with these corsairs, in which he had been to some extent successful. He had obtained the liberation of all Ionian slaves, these having become, by political arrangement, British subjects; and having been allowed to make peace for any of the Mediterranean states that would authorise him to do so--it being well-known that they could do nothing for themselves,--he arranged terms of peace with the Algerines for Sardinia and Naples, though part of the treaty was that Naples should pay a ransom of 100 pounds head for each slave freed by the pirates, and Sardinia 60 pounds. Thinking it highly probable that he should ere long have to fight the Algerines, Lord Exmouth had sent Captain Warde of the `Banterer' to Algiers to take mental plans of the town and its defences, which that gallant officer did most creditably, thereby greatly contributing to the success of future operations. By a curious mistake of the interpreter at Tunis, instead of the desire being expressed that slavery should be abolished, England was made to _demand_ that this should be done, and the alarmed Tunisians agreed to it. Taking the hint, Lord Exmouth made the same demand at Tripoli, with similar result. At Algiers, however, his demands were
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