The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale. Robert Michael Ballantyne

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СКАЧАТЬ us through precept as in the school of sorrow.”

      Mariano felt abashed, yet at the same time rather nettled.

      “Truly, then,” he said, with a glance at his blood-stained shirt, “it seems to me that I have at all events begun my lesson in the right school. However, I believe thou art right, Bacri, and I bear thee no ill-will for the rap thou didst bestow on my skull, which, luckily, is a thick one, else thy ponderous fist had split it from the cranium to the chin.”

      “We had misjudged you, Bacri,” said Francisco, extending his hand, as the Jew rose to depart.

      “We will lay your advice to heart; and we thank you, meanwhile, for coming to see us in this foul den, which I dislike less because of moisture and dirt—these being familiar to me—than because of the lively reptiles which hold their nightly revels in it.”

      There was mingled humour and bitterness in Francisco’s tone, as he uttered this sentence, which he concluded with a heavy sigh. Immediately after, the rusty bolts of their prison-door grated harshly on their ears, and they listened sadly to the retreating footsteps of one whom they now esteemed their only friend, as they died away in the distance.

      Chapter Seven.

      Some New Characters walk, glide, and furiously gallop into the Tale, and otherwise introduce themselves to Notice

      In the interior court of a beautiful Moorish villa not far from the city, sat Mrs Langley, wife of Colonel Langley, British consul at the “Court” of Algiers.

      The lady of whom we write was unusually romantic, for her romance consisted of a deep undercurrent of powerful but quiet enthusiasm, with a pretty strong surface-flow of common-sense. Her husband was a man of noble mind and commanding presence—a magnificent representative John Bull, with the polish of a courtier and the principles of a Christian; one who had been wisely chosen to fill a very disagreeable post, full of responsibility and danger.

      On a stool at the feet of Mrs Langley sat a sunny second edition of herself, about eight years of age, named Agnes. In the cradle which Agnes had formerly occupied reposed a remarkably plump and dimpled representative of the Colonel. When respectfully addressed he was called Jim, but he was more familiarly known as Baby.

      A small negress from beyond the Zahara, and blacker than any coal, rocked Jim violently. For this—not the rocking, but the violence—she had been unavailingly rebuked by Mrs Langley, until that lady’s heart had nearly lost all hope.

      “There—you have done it again, Zubby,” said Mrs Langley, referring to a push that well-nigh rolled Master Jim, (as a sea-captain once said), out at the starboard side of the cradle.

      Zubby confessed her guilt, by looking abashed—and what a solemn look an abashed one is in a negress with very large eyes!—as well as by rocking more gently.

      Agnes vented a sudden little laugh at the expression of Zubby’s face; and, the door opening at that moment, Colonel Langley entered the court, and sat down beside his wife under the giant leaves of a small banana-tree, whose life was drawn from a boxful of earth about three feet square.

      “My dear,” said the Colonel, “I have two rather amusing things to lay before you this evening. One is a gift from the Dey, the other is a letter. Which will you have first?”

      “The gift, of course,” replied the lady.

      “Let her come in, Ali,” called the Colonel to his interpreter, who stood in the passage outside.

      Rais Ali, a Moor clad in the usual Turkish garb, but with a red fez or skull-cap on his head instead of a turban, threw open the door leading out of the court, and ushered in poor Paulina Ruffini with her child.

      “Is this the Dey’s gift?” asked the astonished lady, rising hurriedly.

      “It is; at least she is lent to us, and we are bound to accept her.—Address her in French, my dear; she does not understand English. In fact, you’d better take her to your own room and have a talk.”

      Mrs Langley addressed to the poor captive a few reassuring words, and led her away, leaving the Colonel to amuse himself with Agnes.

      “What has she been sent to us for?” asked Agnes.

      “To be a serv— a companion to you and baby, my pet.”

      “That was kind of the Dey, wasn’t it?” said the child.

      “Well—ye–es; oh yes, doubtless, it was very kind of him,” replied the Colonel.

      We fear that the Colonel did not fully appreciate the kindness that resulted in the gift either of Paulina Ruffini as his servant, or of Sidi Hassan as his attendant, for he saw clearly that the former was unaccustomed to menial work, and he knew that Sidi Hassan was a turbulent member of the community. However, being a man of prompt action, and knowing that it was of the utmost importance that he should stand well in the good graces of the Dey, he resolved to receive Paulina into his establishment as governess of the nursery and companion to his wife, and to leave Sidi Hassan very much to the freedom of his own will, so long as that will did not interfere with the interests of the consulate.

      On the return of his wife he listened to her pathetic account of Paulina’s sad history, and then produced the letter to which he had referred on first entering.

      “This letter necessitates my riding into town immediately. It is a curious document in its way, therefore lend me your ear.”

      Opening it he began to read. We give it verbatim et literatim:—

      “To the brittish Cownsul algeers.

      “7 teenth Jully, 18—

      “Sur i’m an irishman an a sailer an recked on the cost of boogia wid six of me messmaits hoo are wel an arty tho too was drowndid on landin an wan wos spiflikated be the moors which are born divls an no mistaik. I rite to say that weer starvin but the Kaid as they cals the guvner Here says heel take a ransum for us of 150 spanish dolars the Kaid has past his word in yoor name to the moors for that sum or theyd hav spiflikate us too. I hope yer onor has as much to spair in yer pokit, an will luke alive wid it, for if yoo don’t its all up wid me mesmaits inkloodin yoor onors obedent humbil servint to comand ted flagan.”

      “Well, I hope, with poor Flaggan,” said Mrs Langley laughingly, “that you have as much to spare in your ‘pokit,’ for if not, it is plain that the poor fellows will be led into captivity.”

      “I would readily advance a larger sum for so good an end,” replied the consul, folding the letter. “I shall at once ride into town to make arrangements, and as it is so late, will pass the night in our town house. I shall send our new attendant, Sidi Hassan, on this mission, and leave you for the night under the guardianship of Rais Ali.”

      The consul left immediately, and next morning Sidi Hassan set out for Bugia with the necessary ransom.

      In regard to this we need say nothing more than that he accomplished his purpose, paid the ransom, and received the seven British seamen, accompanied by whom he commenced the return journey, he and his men riding, and driving the sailors on foot before them as though they had been criminals. On the way, however, they were attacked, not far from Algiers, by a body of predatory Arabs from the Jurjura mountains.

      These bold villains, at the very first onset, killed more than half of the Turkish escort, and put the rest to flight. Six of the sailors СКАЧАТЬ