The Middy and the Moors: An Algerine Story

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  DANGERS, VICISSITUDES, ESCAPES, NEW SURROUNDINGS, HOPES, AND FEARS.

  It was probably an advantage to Hester Sommers that she had beensubjected to so severe a test at that time, for, not many weeksafterwards, she experienced a shock which put her powers ofself-restraint to a much severer trial.

  It happened thus. Sally and she were on their way home from market oneday; the former with a large basket of vegetables on her head, and thelatter with a lighter basket of oranges on her arm, for the use of themaster at home. They had come to one of the wider of the narrow streetsof the town, where the small shops were numerous, and the throng ofpassers-by was considerable--as also was the noise, for Jews, Moors,Cabyles, and negroes were conversing and jostling each other in alldirections.

  Presently a band of slaves approached, and, as it passed, Hester nearlyfainted, for among them she beheld her father, with irons on his legs,and a shovel and pick on his shoulder.

  "Father!" she exclaimed, in a faint voice, and, stretching out her arms,made an effort to run towards him.

  Quick as lightning Sally grasped the situation, and, rising to theoccasion with that prompt energy which betokens true genius, she seizedHester by the nape of the neck, hurled her to the ground, and sent heroranges flying in all directions! At the same time she began to stormat her with a volubility of invective that astonished herself as well asthe amused bystanders. As for poor Hugh Sommers, the noise hadprevented him from hearing the word "father!" and all that met his eyeswas one black girl roughly using another. Alas! the poor man had beenby that time so much accustomed to witness acts of cruelty that theincident gave him little concern. He passed doggedly onward to histhankless, unremitting toil, which had been rendered all the more severeof late in consequence of his despairing violence having compelled hisdrivers to put the heavy irons on his limbs.

  Meanwhile Sally, having made Hester pick up some of the oranges, seizedher by an arm and hurried her away. Nor did she desist scolding untilshe had her fairly down in the back regions of their cellar-home.

  "I will never forgive you!" exclaimed Hester, with flashing eyes,doubling up her small fists, and apparently wishing that at least forone quarter of an hour she might be transformed into a female Samson.

  "Oh yes, you will," returned the negress coolly; "you'll forgib me whenI tells you dat I hab sab' your fadder's life, an' p'r'aps your owntoo!"

  "How? What do you mean?" demanded Hester, relaxing her little fistsslightly, though still coruscating in the region of the eyes.

  "I means dat if you got hold ob yer fadder dat time, he bery likely gripyou tight an' refuse to part wid you at no price ebermore; so den, obcourse, dey tear him away, an' he kick up a shindy an' try to killsomebody--p'r'aps _do_ it! Oh, its's allers de way. I's oftin seen itwid the big strong men--an' your fadder am big. Dat was him, wasn't it,wid de broad shoulders an' de nice face--a leetle wild-like, p'r'aps,but no wonder--an' de grey beard?"

  "Yes; that was him--my darling father!"

  "Well, ob course dey take him away an' bastinado him till he die, orstrangle him, or frow him on de hooks; an' dey take you right away backto Osman, or wuss. I doo'd it for de best, Geo'giana."

  "Oh! Sally, dear, _dear_ Sally, forgive me! But it was such an awfuldisappointment to be hurried away so, _just_ as I saw him. I--I--am_very_ wicked, Sally, will you forgive me?" said poor little Hester,bursting suddenly into tears, throwing her arms round her friend's neckand kissing her.

  "Forgib you, Geo'giana! Das not difficult to do, but I'll _neber_forgib you if you go slobberin' like dat, an' dirtyin' my face wid yourblack cheeks. Dar now, I's got to polish you up again!"

  This "polishing up," it may be remarked, was a duty which Sally wascalled on to perform rather frequently, in consequence of Hester'sinveterate tendency to think of her father and shed tears! But hersable friend, whose stolid exterior concealed a wealth of affection,rather enjoyed the process of "polishing up," and while engaged in itbroke out into quite eloquent dissertations as to the impropriety ofwashing one's face with tears when there was plenty of soap and water:coupled with earnest exhortations to "keep up heart," andrecommendations not to "gib in," "neber to say die," and the like.

  On this particular occasion the sympathetic Sally gave her friendinexpressible comfort by assuring her that, having at last seen herfather and the gang to which he belonged, she could now easily followthem up and find out where they were set to work. "And so, Geo'giana,"said she, in conclusion, "somet'ing may come ob dis meetin', p'r'apsmore'n you t'ink."

  Something certainly did come of it, as we shall see presently; but justnow we must turn to another danger which threatened our English slave,and in regard to which the previous testing of her powers ofself-restraint was but a trifle.

  One morning Hester was seated in the usual corner, busily engaged withher embroidery, and with her mind still more busily employed in devisingall sorts of impossible schemes for the deliverance of her father--forSally had discovered the exact spot on the fortifications where HughSommers was at work, and only prevented Hester from rushing out at onceto see him by resolutely refusing for a time to tell where that spotwas.

  Mrs Lilly and Hester were alone at the time we refer to, Sally havinggone out to the market.

  "Dearie, I 'spec's Peter de Great dis arternoon," said Mrs Lilly,raising herself from a culinary pot to which she had been devoting herattention. "Dis am about de time he or'nar'ly comes to see you and tellyou how de land lies. Now dat he knows you's seed your fadder, he'lllikely hab somet'ing 'tickler to say to you."

  "God grant that he may have something hopeful to suggest," said Hester,without looking up from her work.

  "You may be sure dat prayer is answered, dearie, for you trust de Lord,an' no one does dat in vain."

  As the woman spoke, the familiar voice was heard outside, "Hi, MissisLilly! how's you all git along down dar?" At the same moment theopening to the street was darkened by Peter's bulky form as he descendedthe narrow stair.

  Shaking hands with Hester, who rose eagerly to greet him, the negro wasabout to begin an earnest talk with her as to how she should act inregard to her father if she should again meet him, when a voice washeard that sent a deadly chill alike to the hearts of Hester and thenegro.

  "Is the cellar far from this?" asked the voice, which was that of Osman.

  "No; here it is! Guard your feet; the second step is broken, and theplace is rather dark," replied the owner of the house.

  "Osman!" whispered Peter, glaring and clenching his fists in an agony ofuncertainty how to act.

  Mrs Lilly, however, black-woman-like, rose to the occasion.

  "Go down dar, you black wretch!" she cried, thrusting Hester quicklydown into the coffee-hole; "how you s'pose massa git his dollars if younot work? Go to work, or I'll skin you!"

  Truly those negroes, male and female, seemed to possess most effectivecapacity for, and original methods of, coming to the rescue of theirfriends in moments of danger!

  As Mrs Lilly uttered the last words the two visitors stood in thecellar. At the same instant the thud of the great pestle began, and sointelligently did Hester perform her part that the familiar gasp ofSally--admirably imitated--came up with every blow.

  "What, Peter the Great! You here!" cried Osman, in extreme surprise.

  "Yes, massa, I's here on a little bit ob business wid Missis Lilly.She's a fri'nd ob my sister Dinah," answered Peter humbly.

  "Oh, indeed! With my father's permission, I suppose?"

  "Yes, Massa Osman. I neber dar to come in de town widout your fadder'spurmission."

  Osman turned and addressed a few words in an undertone to the master ofthe house, who thereupon turned to Mrs Lilly.

  "You are a wise woman, Lilly," he said, "so I have come to consult you.It seems that one of the slaves belonging to Ben-Ahmed of Mustapha hasmade her escape, and it is rumoured that she has taken refuge with someone in this very street, or in one not far from it. Now, as you a
rewell acquainted with almost every one in the neighbourhood, I thought itbest to come in the first place to you to ask your advice about thematter."

  The gasp that came from the coffee-hole when this speech was made hadsomething very real in it, and immediately afterwards the pounding wasredoubled.

  "Was the slabe white or black?" asked Mrs Lilly, with childlikesimplicity, and more for the purpose of gaining time to think thananything else.

  "She was white," interposed Osman, "and very beautiful,--in fact, one ofthe ladies of the harem."

  On hearing this Mrs Lilly looked inquiringly upwards, as if sheexpected inspiration to flow from the bricks that formed the vaultedceiling. Then she looked suddenly at Peter the Great, and said--

  "Das mus' be de lady you was tole me about, Peter,--Ister--Hister--w'atyou call 'er?"

  "Yes--Hester! Das so. De same as I tole you all about her 'scape,"answered Peter, quaking with anxiety and astonishment at the woman'scalm boldness, yet ready to fall in with any plan that her words mightsuggest. At the same time the gasping in the hole became more and moregenuine, and the pounding more and more emphatic.

  "No, massa, I don' know of no white slabe as hab took refuge wid any obour neighbours. Indeed I's kite sure dat none ob de neighbours knowsnot'ing at all about dis Is--Es--w'at you call her? Ester! Das so,Peter?"

  "Yes, das so, Missis Lilly."

  "Stop that horrible noise in the hole there! What is it?" said Osmanimpatiently.

  "It is only one of my negro slaves," said the master of the house."Call her up, Lilly, and set her to something quieter until we go."

  Rendered desperate now, Peter the Great started forward with glaringeyes. "Massa," he said, "an idea hab just struck me. Will you come outa momint? I wants to tell you somet'ing _bery hard_."

  The appearance, not less than the earnestness, of the negro, inclinedOsman to comply with his request; but, hesitating, he said--

  "Why not tell me here, Peter? We are all friends, you know."

  "Oh yes, I know dat, Massa Osman; but womans can never be trusted widt'ings ob importance, 'specially black womans! But ob course if you not'fraid ob Missis Lilly, _I_ a'n't 'fraid ob her lettin' de secret out.I darsay she's as good a creetur as de best ob 'um."

  This readiness to give in was a politic stroke. Osman agreed to gooutside with the negro, and while the latter was ascending the shortstair to the street, he was making superhuman efforts to inventsomething, for, as yet, he had not the faintest idea what his intendedcommunication should be. But Peter the Great was a genius, and it isone of the characteristics of genius to be bold even to recklessness.

  Trusting to some sort of inspiration, he began, with looks and tones ofthe deepest solemnity, "I s'pose you guess, Massa Osman, dat I've beeninwestigatin' that coorious business ob de English gal what runnedaway?"

  "No, I did not guess that," answered the Moor shortly.

  "Oh! but it's true!" said Peter. "Eber since she flooed away I's bingoin' about dem suspekid places, lookin' arter her, and, do you know,Massa Osman, dat at last," (here he dropped his voice and lookedunutterable things),--"at _last_ I's found--"

  "Well--found what?" asked the Moor eagerly.

  "Found her _fadder_!"

  "Bah! What do I care for her father, you fool?"

  "Das troo, massa; but don't you t'ink dat p'r'aps she'd be likely to tryfor find her fadder; an' if she find 'im she'd be likely to remain _wid_her fadder? An' so all dat we'd hab to do would be to find her faddertoo. Ob course I don't say she's doo'd all dat; but suppose, for desake ob argiment, dat she _hab_ doo'd it all, won't we--won't we--we--No, I's lost de t'read ob my discoorse. I'll begin again fro' debeginning. Das de on'y way I kin--"

  "Is that all you had to tell me?" interrupted the Moor, in rising wrath.

  "No--not kite all," returned Peter humbly. "Dey do say dat de fadder isat work on de for'fications on de sout' side ob de Kasba."

  "Well, you are a greater fool than I took you for," said Osman, in whomcontempt was quickly taking the place of anger.

  "I s'pose I is, massa. An' I s'pose it am part ob my foolishness to belookin' arter dis yar gal--but den, you see, I lubs Ben-Ahmed, so--"

  "Well, well, Peter, I believe you mean well--"

  "I's _sure_ I does, Massa Osman!"

  "Don't interrupt me, you black villain! Can't you see that if Hester'sfather is a Bagnio slave there is no chance of her having found refugewith him?"

  "Das true, massa. I do s'pose you's right. I's a born ijit altogidder.But, you know, when a man gits off de scent ob a t'ing, anyt'ing datlooks de least bit like a clue should be follered up. An' dere's nosayin' what might come ob seein' de fadder--for we's off de scententirely jist now."

  "There's little doubt of that, Peter," said Osman, pausing, and lookingmeditatively at the ground.

  "Moreober," suggested the negro, "when a man wid a cleber head an' apurswavis tongue like you tackles a t'ing, it's bery strange indeed ifnot'ing comes ob it."

  "Well, you may be right after all," returned the Moor slowly. "I willgo and see this father. At all events it can do no harm."

  "None whateber, massa. An' I better run back and send Ali arter you."

  "Why? What has he to do with it?"

  "Oh! I only t'ought dat you was huntin' togidder. It's ob noconsikence. But I t'ink he knows de janissary officer what has chargeob de gang, an' if _you_ don't know him Ali might be useful."

  "There is wisdom in what you say."

  "Eben zough I _is_ a `fool?'" asked the negro simply.

  Osman laughed.

  "At all events you are an honest fool, Peter, and I'm sorry I burnedyour back the other day. You didn't deserve it."

  "Oh, nebber mind dat," returned Peter, feeling really uneasy. "Deback's all right now. Moreober I _did_ deserb it, for I's an awrfulsinner! Wuss dan you t'ink! Now, if you keep right up as you go, an'when you comes to de Kasba turn to de right an' keep so till you comesto de right angle ob de sout' wall. De fadder he work dar. I'll sendAli arter you, quick's I can."

  They parted, and while the Moor stalked sedately up the street, thenegro hurried back to the cellar with a message to Ali to follow Osmanwithout a moment's delay.

  Meanwhile Ali had been cleverly engaged by the ready-witted Mrs Lilly,who, after fiercely ordering the coffee-pounder to "stop her noise,"come out of the hole, and retire to the kitchen, drew forth a largeleathern purse, which she wisely chinked, and, going towards the stairs,invited her master to "come to de light an' receibe de money which shehab made by de last sale ob slippers."

  Of course the bait took--none other could have been half so successful.But Hester apparently had not courage to take advantage of theopportunity, for she did not quit the hole. Fortunately Peter arrivedbefore the cash transaction was completed. On receiving Osman's messageAli balanced accounts promptly by thrusting the purse and its contentsinto his pocket and hastening away.

  Then Peter the Great and Lilly sat down, took a long grave look at eachother, threw back their heads, opened their cavernous mouths, andindulged in a quiet but hearty laugh.

  "Now you kin come out, dearie," said Lilly, turning to the coffee-holeon recovering composure.

  But no response came from the "vasty deep."

  "De coast's cl'ar, my dear," said Peter, rising.

  Still no response, so Peter descended the few steps, and found Hesterlying insensible on a heap of coffee-beans, and still firmly graspingthe big pestle. The trial had been too much for the poor child, who hadfainted, and Peter emerged with her in his arms, and an expression ofsolemn anxiety on his countenance.

  In a few minutes, however, she revived, and then Peter, hurrying heraway from a locality which he felt was no longer safe, placed her underthe charge of his sister Dinah--to the inexpressible regret of MrsLilly and her black maid-of-all-work.

  In her new home the fugitive's circumstances were much improved. Dinahand her husband had great influence over their owner, Youssef, theproprietor of
the small coffee-house already described. They not onlymanaged most of its details for him, but were permitted a good deal ofpersonal liberty. Among other things they had been allowed to selectthe top of the house as their abode.

  To European ears this may sound rather strange, but those who have seenthe flat roofs of Eastern lands will understand it. Youssef's house,like nearly all the other houses of the city, had a flat roof, with asurrounding parapet nearly breast-high. Here had been placed a fewwooden boxes filled with earth and planted with flowering shrubs. Theseformed quite a little garden, to which Youssef had been wont to retreatof an evening for meditative and, we may add, smokative purposes. Butas Youssef had grown old, his eyes had nearly, and his legs had quite,failed him. Hence, being unable to climb to his roof, he had latterlygiven it up entirely to the use of his black slaves, Samson and DinahWhite.

  There was a small excrescence or hut on the roof--about ten feet by sixin dimensions--which formed--their residence. Behind this, hidingitself as it were and almost invisible, nestled a smaller excrescence oroffshoot. It was a mere bandbox of a thing, measuring five feet byfour; it had a window about twelve inches square, and was entered by adoor inside the larger hut. This was the apartment now assigned toHester, who was quietly introduced into the household without theknowledge or consent of its blind proprietor.

  There was a little bed in the small room. True, it was only a trestleframe, and a straw-stuffed mattress with a couple of blankets, but itwas clean, and the whole room was neat, and the sun shone brightly in atthe small window at the moment that the new occupant was introduced.Poor Hester fell on her knees, laid her head on the bed, and thanked Godfervently for the blessed change. Almost in the same moment she forgotherself, and prayed still more fervently for the deliverance of herfather.

  The view over the housetops from the little window was absolutelymagnificent, including as it did domes, minarets, mosques, palm-trees,shipping, and sea! Here, for a considerable time, Hester worked at herformer occupation, for Dinah had a private plan to make a little moneyfor her own pocket by means of embroidery.

  In this pleasant retreat our fugitive was visited one day by Peter theGreat, the expression of whose visage betokened business. After someconversation, he said that he had come for the express purpose of takingHester to see her father.

  "But not to talk to him," he added quickly--"not eben to make you'selfknown to him, for if you did, not'ing would keep 'im quiet, an' you an'he would be parted _for eber_. Mind dat--for _eber_!"

  "Yes, yes, I will remember," said the poor girl, who was profoundlyagitated at the mere thought of such a meeting.

  "But you mus' _promise_," said Peter solemnly.

  "Promise on you' word ob honour dat you not say one word; not make asound; not gib an unor'nary look; not try in any way to attrack hisattention. Come--speak, else I go home ag'in."

  "I promise," said Hester, in a low voice.

  "An' you won't cry?"

  "I'll try not to."

  "Come 'long, den, wid me, an' see you' poor fadder."