by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XVI.
THE ESCAPE.
"In one respect," Geoffrey said, as they were talking over their chanceof escape, "I am sorry that the bey has behaved so kindly to us."
"What is that?" Stephen Boldero asked in surprise.
"Well, I was thinking that were it not for that we might manage tocontrive some plan of escape in concert with the galley-slaves, getthem down to the shore here, row off to the galley, overpower the threeor four men who live on board her, and make off with her. Of course weshould have had to accumulate beforehand a quantity of food and somebarrels of water, for I have noticed that when they go out they alwaystake their stores on board with them, and bring on shore on theirreturn what has not been consumed. Still, I suppose that could bemanaged. However, it seems to me that our hands are tied in thatdirection by the kindness of the bey. After his conduct to us it wouldbe ungrateful in the extreme for us to carry off his galley."
"So it would, Geoffrey. Besides I doubt whether the plan would succeed.You may be sure the Spaniards are as jealous as can be of the goodfortune that we have met with, and were we to propose such a scheme tothem the chances are strongly in favour of one of them trying to betterhis own position by denouncing us. I would only trust them as far as Ican see them. No, if we ever do anything it must be done by ourselves.There is no doubt that if some night when there is a strong windblowing from the south-east we were to get on board one of thesefishing-boats, hoist a sail, and run before it, we should not be faroff from the coast of Spain before they started to look for us. Butwhat better should we be there? We can both talk Spanish well enough,but we could not pass as Spaniards. Besides, they would find out soonenough that we were not Catholics, and where should we be then? Eithersent to row in their galleys or clapped into the dungeons of theInquisition, and like enough burnt alive at the stake. That would beout of the frying-pan into the fire with vengeance."
"I think we might pass as Spaniards," Geoffrey said; "for there is agreat deal of difference between the dialects of the differentprovinces, and confined as you have been for the last ten years withSpanish sailors you must have caught their way of talking. Still, Iagree with you it will be better to wait for a bit longer for anychance that may occur rather than risk landing in Spain again, whereeven if we passed as natives we should have as hard work to get ourliving as we have here, and with no greater chance of making our wayhome again."
During the time that they had been captives some three or four vesselshad been brought in by the corsair. The men composing the crews hadbeen either sold as slaves to Moors or Arabs in the interior or sent toAlgiers, which town lay over a hundred miles to the east. They were ofvarious nationalities, Spanish, French, and Italian, as the two friendslearned from the talk of the natives, for they always abstained fromgoing near the point where the prisoners were landed, as they werepowerless to assist the unfortunate captives in any way, and the sightof their distress was very painful to them.
One day, however, they learned from the people who were running down tothe shore to see the captives landed from a ship that had been broughtin by the corsair during the night, that there were two or three womenamong the captives. This was the first time that any females had beencaptured since their arrival at the place, for women seldom travelledfar from their homes in those days except the wives of high officialsjourneying in great ships that were safe from the attack of the Moorishcorsairs.
"Let us go down and see them," Boldero said. "I have not seen the faceof a white woman for nine years."
"I will go if you like," Geoffrey said. "They will not guess that weare Europeans, for we are burnt as dark as the Moors."
They went down to the landing-place. Eight men and two women werelanded from the boat. These were the sole survivors of the crew.
"They are Spaniards," Boldero said. "I pity that poor girl. I supposethe other woman is her servant."
The girl, who was about sixteen years of age, was very pale, and hadevidently been crying terribly. She did not seem to heed the cries andthreats with which the townspeople as usual assailed the newly-arrivedcaptives, but kept her eyes fixed upon one of the captives who walkedbefore her.
"That is her father, no doubt," Geoffrey said. "It is probably her lastlook at him. Come away, Stephen; I am awfully sorry we came here. Ishall not be able to get that girl's face out of my mind for I don'tknow how long."
Without a word they went back to their hut. They had no particular workthat day. Geoffrey went restlessly in and out, sometimes pacing alongthe strand, sometimes coming in and throwing himself on the divan.Stephen Boldero went on quietly mending a net that had been damaged thenight before, saying nothing, but glancing occasionally with an amusedlook at his companion's restless movements, Late in the afternoonGeoffrey burst out suddenly: "Stephen, we must try and rescue that girlsomehow from her fate."
"I supposed that was what it was coming to," Boldero said quietly."Well, let me hear all about it. I know you have been thinking it overever since morning. What are your ideas?"
"I do not know that I have any ideas beyond getting her and her fatherdown to a boat and making off."
"Well, you certainly have not done much if you haven't got farther thanthat," Stephen said drily. "Now, if you had spent the day talking itover with me instead of wandering about like one out of his mind, weshould have got a great deal further than that by this time. However, Ihave been thinking for you. I know what you young fellows are. As soonas I saw that girl's face and looked at you I was dead certain therewas an end of peace and quietness, and that you would be bent upon someplan of getting her off. It did not need five minutes to show that Iwas right; and I have been spending my time thinking, while you havethrown yours away in fidgeting.
"Well, I think it is worth trying. Of course it will be a vastly moredifficult job getting the girl and her father away than just taking aboat and sailing off as we have often talked of doing. Then, on theother hand, it would altogether alter our position afterwards. By hisappearance and hers I have no doubt he is a well-to-do trader, perhapsa wealthy one. He walked with his head upright when the crowd wereyelling and cursing, and is evidently a man of courage anddetermination. Now, if we had reached the Spanish coast by ourselves weshould have been questioned right and left, and, as I have said allalong, they would soon have found that we were not Spaniards, for wecould not have said where we came from, or given our past history, orsaid where our families lived. But it would be altogether different ifwe landed with them. Every one would be interested about them. Weshould only be two poor devils of sailors who had escaped with them,and he would help to pass it off and get us employment; so that thedifficulty that has hitherto prevented us from trying to escape is verygreatly diminished. Now, as to getting them away. Of course she hasbeen taken up to the bey's, and no doubt he will send her as a presentto the bey of Algiers. I know that is what has been done several timesbefore when young women have been captured.
"I have been thinking it over, and I do not see a possibility ofgetting to speak to her as long as she is at the bey's. I do not seethat it can be done anyhow. She will be indoors most of the time, andif she should go into the garden there would be other women with her.Our only plan, as far as I can see at present, would be to carry heroff from her escort on the journey. I do not suppose she will have morethan two, or at most three, mounted men with her, and we ought to beable to dispose of them. As to her father, the matter is comparativelyeasy. We know the ways of the prison, and I have no doubt we can gethim out somehow; only there is the trouble of the question of time. Shehas got to be rescued and brought back and hidden somewhere tillnightfall, he has got to be set free the same evening, and we have toembark early enough to be well out of sight before daylight; and maybethere will not be a breath of wind stirring. It is a tough job,Geoffrey, look at it which way you will."
"It is a tough job," Geoffrey agreed. "I am afraid the escort would bestronger than you think. A present of this kind to the bey is regardedas important, and I should say ha
lf a dozen horsemen at least will besent with her. In that case an attempt at rescue would be hopeless. Wehave no arms, and if we had we could not kill six mounted men; and ifeven one escaped, our plans would be all defeated. The question is,would they send her by land? It seems to me quite as likely that theymight send her by water."
"Yes, that is likely enough, Geoffrey. In that case everything woulddepend upon the vessel he sent her in. If it is the great galley thereis an end of it; if it is one of their little coasters it might bemanaged. We are sure to learn that before long. The bey might keep herfor a fortnight or so, perhaps longer, for her to recover somewhat fromher trouble and get up her good looks again, so as to add to the valueof the present. If she were well and bright she would be pretty enoughfor anything. In the meantime we can arrange our plans for getting herfather away. Of course if she goes with a big escort on horseback, orif she goes in the galley, there is an end of our plans. I am ready tohelp you, Geoffrey, if there is a chance of success; but I am not goingto throw away my life if there is not, and unless she goes down in acoaster there is an end of the scheme."
"I quite agree to that," Geoffrey replied; "we cannot accomplishimpossibilities."
They learned upon the following day that three of the newly-arrivedcaptives were to take the places of the galley-slaves who had beenkilled in the capture of the Spanish ship, which had defended itselfstoutly, and that the others were to be sold for work in the interior.
"It is pretty certain," Boldero said, "that the trader will not be oneof the three chosen for the galley. The work would break him down in amonth. That makes that part of the business easier, for we can get himaway on the journey inland, and hide him up here until his daughter issent off."
Geoffrey looked round the bare room.
"Well, I do not say as how we could hide him here," Boldero said inanswer to the look, "but we might hide him somewhere among thesand-hills outside the place, and take him food at night."
"Yes, we might do that," Geoffrey agreed. "That could be managed easilyenough, I should think, for there are clumps of bushes scattered allover the sand-hills half a mile back from the sea. The trouble will beif we get him here, and find after all that we cannot rescue hisdaughter."
"That will make no difference," Boldero said. "In that case we willmake off with him alone. Everything else will go on just the same. Ofcourse, I should be very sorry not to save the girl; but, as far as weare concerned, if we save the father it will answer our purpose."
Geoffrey made no reply. Just at that moment his own future was a verysecondary matter, in comparison, to the rescue of this unhappy Spanishgirl.
Geoffrey and his companion had been in the habit of going upoccasionally to the prison. They had won over the guard by smallpresents, and were permitted to go in and out with fruit and otherlittle luxuries for the galley-slaves. They now abstained from goingnear the place, in order that no suspicion might fall upon them afterhis escape of having had any communication with the Spanish trader.
Shortly after the arrival of the captives two merchants from theinterior came down, and Geoffrey learned that they had visited theprison, and had made a bargain with the bey for all the captives exceptthose transferred to the galley. The two companions had talked thematter over frequently, and had concluded it was best that only one ofthem should be engaged in the adventure, for the absence of both mightbe noticed. After some discussion it was agreed that Geoffrey shouldundertake the task, and that Boldero should go alone to the house wherethey were now at work, and should mention that his friend was unwell,and was obliged to remain at home for the day.
As they knew the direction in which the captives would be takenGeoffrey started before daybreak, and kept steadily along until hereached a spot where it was probable they would halt for the night. Itwas twenty miles away, and there was here a well of water and a groveof trees. Late in the afternoon he saw the party approaching. Itconsisted of the merchants, two armed Arabs, and the five captives, allof whom were carrying burdens. They were crawling painfully along,overpowered by the heat of the sun, by the length of the journey, andby the weight they carried. Several times the Arabs struck them heavilywith their sticks to force them to keep up.
Geoffrey retired from the other side of the clump of trees, and laydown in a depression of the sand-hills until darkness came on, when heagain entered the grove, and crawling cautiously forward made his wayclose up to the party. A fire was blazing, and a meal had been alreadycooked and eaten. The traders and the two Arabs were sitting by thefire; the captives were lying extended on the ground. Presently, at thecommand of one of the Arabs, they rose to their feet and proceeded tocollect some more pieces of wood for the fire. As they returned thelight fell on the gray hair of the man upon whom Geoffrey had noticedthat the girl's eyes were fixed.
He noted the place where he lay down, and had nothing to do now but towait until the party were asleep. He felt sure that no guard would beset, for any attempt on the part of the captives to escape would benothing short of madness. There was nowhere for them to go, and theywould simply wander about until they died of hunger and exhaustion, oruntil they were recaptured, in which case they would be almost beatento death. In an hour's time the traders and their men lay down by thefire, and all was quiet. Geoffrey crawled round until he was close tothe Spaniard. He waited until he felt sure that the Arabs were asleep,and then crawled up to him. The man started as he touched him.
"Silence, senor," Geoffrey whispered in Spanish; "I am a friend, andhave come to rescue you."
"I care not for life; a few days of this work will kill me, and thesooner the better. I have nothing to live for. They killed my wife theother day, and my daughter is a captive in their hands. I thank you,whoever you are, but I will not go."
"We are going to try to save your daughter too," Geoffrey whispered;"we have a plan for carrying you both off."
The words gave new life to the Spaniard.
"In that case, sir, I am ready. Whoever you are whom God has sent to myaid I will follow you blindly, whatever comes of it."
Geoffrey crawled away a short distance, followed by the Spaniard. Assoon as they were well beyond the faint light now given out by theexpiring fire they rose to their feet, and gaining the track took theirway on the backward road. As soon as they were fairly away, Geoffreyexplained to the Spaniard who he was, and how he had undertaken toendeavour to rescue him. The joy and gratitude of the Spaniard were toodeep for words, and he uttered his thanks in broken tones. When theyhad walked about a mile Geoffrey halted.
"Sit down here," he said. "I have some meat and fruit here and a smallskin of water. We have a long journey before us, for we must get nearthe town you left this morning before daybreak, and you must eat tokeep up your strength."
"I did not think," the Spaniard said, "when we arrived at the well,that I could have walked another mile had my life depended upon it. NowI feel a new man, after the fresh hope you have given me. I no longerfeel the pain of my bare feet or the blisters the sun has raised on mynaked back. I am struggling now for more than life--for my daughter.You shall not find me fail, sir."
All night they toiled on. The Spaniard kept his promise, and utterlyexhausted as he was, and great as was the pain in his limbs, held onbravely. With the first dawn of morning they saw the line of the seabefore them. They now turned off from the track, and in another halfhour the Spaniard took shelter in a clump of bushes in a hollow, whileGeoffrey, having left with him the remainder of the supply ofprovisions and water, pursued his way and reached the hut just as thesun was shining in the east, and without having encountered a singleperson.
"Well, have you succeeded?" Boldero asked eagerly, as he entered.
"Yes; I have got him away. He is in hiding within a mile of this place.He kept on like a hero. I was utterly tired myself, and how he managedto walk the distance after what he had gone through in the day is morethan I can tell. His name is Mendez. He is a trader in Cadiz, and ownsmany vessels. He was on his way to Italy, with his wife and d
aughter,in one of his own ships, in order to gratify the desire of his wife tovisit the holy places at Rome. She was killed by a cannon-shot duringthe fight, and his whole heart is now wrapped up in his daughter. Andnow, Stephen, I must lie down and sleep. You will have to go to workalone to-day again, and can truly say that I am still unfit for labour."
Four days later it became known in the little town that a messenger hadarrived from the merchant who bought the slaves from the bey, sayingthat one of them had made his escape from their first halting-place.
"The dog will doubtless die in the desert," the merchant wrote; "but ifhe should find his way down, or you should hear of him as arriving atany of the villages, I pray you to send him up to me with a guard. Iwill so treat him that it will be a lesson to my other slaves not tofollow his example."
Every evening after dark Geoffrey went out with a supply of food andwater to the fugitive. For a week he had no news to give him as to hisdaughter; but on the eighth night he said that he and his companion hadthat morning been sent by the bey on board the largest of the coastingvessels in the port, with orders to paint the cabins and put them in afit state for the reception of a personage of importance.
"This is fortunate, indeed," Geoffrey went on. "No doubt she isintended for the transport of your daughter. Her crew consists of acaptain and five men, but at present they are living ashore; and as weshall be going backwards and forwards to her, we ought to have littledifficulty in getting on board and hiding away in the hold before shestarts. I think everything promises well for the success of our scheme."
The bey's superintendent came down the next day to see how matters weregoing on on board the vessel. The painting was finished that evening,and the next day two slaves brought down a quantity of hangings andcushions, which Geoffrey and his companion assisted the superintendentto hang up and place in order. Provisions and water had already beentaken on board, and they learnt that the party who were to sail in herwould come off early the next morning.
At midnight Geoffrey, Boldero, and the Spaniard came down to the littleport, embarked in a fisherman's boat moored at the stairs, andnoiselessly rowed off to the vessel. They mounted on to her deckbarefooted. Boldero was the last to leave the boat, giving her avigorous push with his foot in the direction of the shore, from whichthe vessel was but some forty yards away. They descended into the hold,where they remained perfectly quiet until the first light of dawnenabled them to see what they were doing, and then moved some basketsfull of vegetables, and concealed themselves behind them.
A quarter of an hour later they heard a boat come alongside, and thevoices of the sailors. Then they heard the creaking of cordage as thesails were let fall in readiness for a start. Half an hour lateranother boat came alongside. There was a trampling of feet on the deckabove them, and the bey's voice giving orders. A few minutes later theanchor was raised, there was more talking on deck, and then they hearda boat push off, and knew by the rustle of water against the planksbeside them that the vessel was under way.
The wind was light and the sea perfectly calm, and beyond the slightmurmur of the water, those below would not have known that the ship wasin motion. It was very hot down in the hold, but fortunately the crewhad not taken the trouble to put on the hatches, and at times a faintbreath of air could be felt below. Geoffrey and his companion talkedoccasionally in low tones; but the Spaniard was so absorbed by hisanxiety as to the approaching struggle, and the thought that he mightsoon clasp his daughter to his arms, that he seldom spoke.
No plans could be formed as to the course they were to take, for theycould not tell whether those of the crew off duty would retire to sleepin the little forecastle or would lie down on deck. Then, too, theywere ignorant as to the number of men who had come on board with thecaptive. The overseer had mentioned the day before that he was going,and it was probable that three or four others would accompany him.Therefore they had to reckon upon ten opponents. Their only weaponswere three heavy iron bolts, some two feet long. These Boldero hadpurchased in exchange for a few fish, when a prize brought in wasbroken up as being useless for the purposes of the Moors.
"What I reckon is," he said, "that you and I ought to be able to settletwo apiece of these fellows before they fairly know what is happening.The Don ought very well to account for another. So that only leavesfive of them; and five against three are no odds worth speaking of,especially when the five are woke up by a sudden attack, and ain't surehow many there are against them. I don't expect much trouble over theaffair."
"I don't want to kill more of the poor fellows than I can help,"Geoffrey said.
"No more do I; but you see it's got to be either killing or beingkilled, and I am perfectly certain which I prefer. Still, as you say,if the beggars are at all reasonable I ain't for hurting them, but thefirst few we have got to hit hard. When we get matters a little even,we can speak them fair."
The day passed slowly, and in spite of their bent and cramped positionGeoffrey and Stephen Boldero dozed frequently. The Spaniard neverclosed an eye. He was quite prepared to take his part in the struggle;and as he was not yet fifty years of age, his assistance was not to bedespised. But the light-hearted carelessness of his companions, whojoked under their breath, and laughed and eat unconcernedly with alife-and-death struggle against heavy odds before them, surprised himmuch.
As darkness came on the party below became wakeful. Their time wascoming now, and they had no doubt whatever as to the result. Their mostformidable opponents would be the men who had come on board with thebey's superintendent, as these, no doubt, would be fully armed. As forthe sailors, they might have arms on board, but these would not beready to hand, and it was really only with the guards they would haveto deal.
"I tell you what I think would be a good plan, Stephen," Geoffrey saidsuddenly. "You see, there is plenty of spare line down here; if we waituntil they are all asleep we can go round and tie their legs together,or put ropes round their ankles and fasten them to ring-bolts. If wecould manage that without waking them, we might capture the craftwithout shedding any blood, and might get them down into the hold oneafter the other."
"I think that is a very good plan," Stephen agreed. "I do not like thethought of knocking sleeping men on the head any more than you do; andif we are careful, we might get them all tied up before an alarm isgiven. There, the anchor has gone down. I thought very likely theywould not sail at night. That is capital. You may be sure that theywill be pretty close inshore, and they probably will have only one manon watch; and as likely as not not even one, for they will not dream ofany possible danger."
For another two hours the sound of talk on deck went on, but at lastall became perfectly quiet. The party below waited for another halfhour, and then noiselessly ascended the ladder to the deck, holding inone hand a cudgel, in the other a number of lengths of line cut aboutsix feet long. Each as he reached the deck lay down flat. The Spaniardhad been told to remain perfectly quiet while the other two went abouttheir task.
First they crawled aft, for the bey's guards would, they knew, besleeping at that end, and working together they tied the legs of thesemen without rousing them. The ropes could not be tightly pulled, asthis would at once have disturbed them. They were therefore fastenedsomewhat in the fashion of manacles, so that although the men mightrise to their feet they would fall headlong the moment they tried towalk. In addition other ropes were fastened to these and taken from oneman to another. Then their swords were drawn from the sheaths and theirknives from their sashes.
The operation was a long one, as it had to be conducted with thegreatest care and caution. They then crept back to the hatchway andtold the Spaniard that the most formidable enemies had been made safe.
"Here are a sword and a knife for you, senor; and now as we are allarmed I consider the ship as good as won, for the sailors are notlikely to make much resistance by themselves. However, we will securesome of them. The moon will be up in half an hour, and that will be anadvantage to us."
The captain and three
of the sailors were soon tied up like the others.Two men were standing in the bow of the vessel leaning against thebulwarks, and when the moon rose it could be seen by their attitudethat both were asleep.
"Now, we may as well begin," Geoffrey said. "Let us take those twofellows in the bow by surprise. Hold a knife to their throats, and tellthem if they utter the least sound we will kill them. Then we will makethem go down into the forecastle and fasten them there."
"I am ready," Stephen said, and they stole forward to the two sleepingmen. They grasped them suddenly by the throat and held a knife beforetheir eyes, Boldero telling them in a stern whisper that if theyuttered a cry they would be stabbed to the heart. Paralysed by thesudden attack they did not make the slightest struggle, but accompaniedtheir unknown assailants to the forecastle and were there fastened in.Joined now by the Spaniard, Geoffrey and his companion went aft androused one of the sleepers there with a threat similar to that whichhad silenced the sailors.
He was, however, a man of different stuff. He gave a loud shout andgrappled with Boldero, who struck him a heavy blow with his fist in theface, and this for a moment silenced him; but the alarm being given,the superintendent and the two men struggled to their feet, onlyhowever to fall prostrate as soon as they tried to walk.
"Lie quiet and keep silence!" Boldero shouted in a threatening voice."You are unarmed and at our mercy. Your feet are bound and you areperfectly helpless. We do not wish to take your lives, but unless youare quiet we shall be compelled to do so."
The men had discovered by this time that their arms had gone, and wereutterly disconcerted by the heavy and unexpected fall they had justhad. Feeling that they were indeed at the mercy of their captors, theylay quiet.
"Now then," Boldero went on, "one at a time. Keep quiet, you rascalsthere!" he broke off, shouting to the sailors who were rolling andtumbling on the deck forward, "or I will cut all your throats for you.Now then, Geoffrey, do you and the senor cut the rope that fastens thatman on the port side to his comrades. March him to the hatchway andmake him go down into the hold. Keep your knives ready and kill him atonce if he offers the slightest resistance."
One by one the superintendent, the three guards, the captain andsailors were all made to descend into the hold, and the hatches wereput over it and fastened down.
"Now, senor," Geoffrey said, "we can spare you."
The Spaniard hurried to the cabin, opened the door, and called out hisdaughter's name. There was a scream of delight within as DoloresMendez, who had been awakened by the tumult, recognized her father'svoice, and leaping up from her couch threw herself into his arms.Geoffrey and his companion now opened the door of the forecastle andcalled the two sailors out.
"Now," Boldero said, "if you want to save your lives you have got toobey our orders. First of all fall to work and get up the anchor, andthen shake out the sails again. I will take the helm, Geoffrey, and doyou keep your eye on these two fellows. There is no fear of theirplaying any tricks now that they see they are alone on deck, but theymight, if your back were turned, unfasten the hatches. However, I donot think we need fear trouble that way, as for ought they know we mayhave cut the throats of all the others."
A few minutes later the vessel was moving slowly through the water withher head to the north-west.
"We must be out of sight of land if we can by the morning," Stephensaid, when Geoffrey two hours later came to take his place at the helm;"at any rate until we have passed the place we started from. Oncebeyond that it does not matter much; but it will be best either to keepout of sight of land altogether, or else to sail pretty close to it, sothat they can see the boat is one of their own craft. We can choosewhich we will do when we see which way the breeze sets in in themorning."
It came strongly from the south, and they therefore determined to saildirect for Carthagena.