CHAPTER CV.
A LAST VIEW OF MURRAY AND CHIVEY.
"Hurrah, dad!"
"Hurrah, my boy! Now, then, one and all. Hip, hip, hip----"
"Hurrah!"
The peal that burst from the throats of the reunited English partyfairly astonished the assembled crowd of citizens who were flocking outof the hall of justice.
And then such a shaking of hands and kissing!
The latter form of insanity at length became infectious, and the twoblack imps Tinker and Bogey insisted on pressing a chaste salute on Mr.Mole's coy lips, to the intense amusement of the bystanders.
"Get out, you black devils!" exclaimed he.
"Why, Massa Mole, we been good friends dis long time in dat 'ere oleprison; you isn't a-gwine to turn round on de poor niggahs now we's gotout."
"Get away. Never mind, don't get away; I'm not proud--hurrah!"
In his excitement Mr. Mole threw his battered hat a great height intothe air, but slipping while so doing, he sat down upon the pavementrather violently.
"_Sac-r-r-r-re!_ seize that old villain!"
The indignant command came from a mounted officer in charge of aconsiderable body of soldiers.
While directing the movements of his men, drawn sword in hand, downcame Mole's _chapeau_ on the point of the deadly weapon, which wentthrough the crown, and the lining getting entangled with the hilt, itcould not be very readily moved.
And, of course, the French spectators at once began laughing to see therather absurd situation of the officer.
Mole would certainly have been dragged off again had not the Britishconsul once more interposed.
"Monsieur le Colonel, I hasten to assure you that it was an accident,"he said.
"I will not be insulted by accident; arrest him!"
"But consider, sir, you have no crime to urge against him."
"Bah, what care I?"
"He will apologise."
"Of course he will," said Harvey, thinking it time to interpose. "Here,where are you, Mr. Mole?"
"Down here, sitting on the other end of me," responded the ex-tutor invery doleful accents.
"An apology!" said the excited officer, who had dismounted, and wasbrandishing his weapon as though about to sacrifice Mole.
But poor Mole seemed altogether too confused to say the soothing wordsrequired, so the consul again interfered.
"Really, Monsieur le Colonel, this poor gentleman seems to havesustained some severe injury. You will see he has lost both legs in aseries of heroic actions, the particulars of which I have not time togive you, but accept my assurance that the affair of the hat wasentirely an accident."
"Lost legs in action! Ah, then it becomes my duty to apologise for thehasty language I have used to a brave soldier."
As things were changing a little, Mole thought it time to becomeconscious, and with the aid of Tinker and Bogey, he struggled to hisfeet.
"Monsieur," continued the officer, "I withdraw my words."
"Enough said, my dear sir," responded Mole; "let the matter drop, Ipray."
The officer gave a military salute, restored the perforated hat to itsowner, and rejoined his men.
"Really imprisonment seems to have no effect on you, Mr. Mole," saidHarvey; "you begin your old pranks the moment you are released."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, you pass yourself off as an old soldier."
"No, it was our good friend the consul."
"Well, you allowed the colonel to deceive himself."
"It's all the result of my really martial aspect, my dear boy."
And Mole hobbled on, trying to sustain his military appearance.
* * * *
Our friends did not at once leave Marseilles.
They were informed that perhaps they might be required to give evidenceagainst Murray, so they took up their residence in the best hotel ofthe place and waited, the elders of the party being perfectly contentnow that the youngsters had regained their liberty.
However, as events turned out, they were not called upon to attend thetrial of the shipowner's son, as Monsieur Hocquart Clermont Delamarreand his assistants managed to pile up quite sufficient proof toconvince the judge of Herbert Murray's guilt.
He, Lenoir, and Chivey, who certainly was not so deeply involved as hismaster, were sentenced to serve ten years each in the galleys.
Lenoir's original sentence was fifteen years, but the promisedintercession of the consul was effectual in shortening it to ten.
There was, however, another trial, at which young Jack and HarryGirdwood were requested to attend, and the prisoner in this case wasthe gaoler to whom they had entrusted their letters to the consul.
He being clearly convicted of receiving bribes from prisoners, wassentenced to two years' imprisonment, and so retires from the scene.
Young Jack, his parents, Harry Girdwood, Harvey, little Emily, andPaquita were taking a walk in the neighborhood of the harbour onemorning, when they became aware of a very dismal-looking processioncoming down the road from the prison.
First of all came half a dozen soldiers, trailing their rifles, whichwere evidently loaded and ready for instant use.
Then, in single file, about a yard behind each other, and every manwith his right leg attached by a ring to a long chain that extended theentire length of the party, came ten men clad in garments of verycoarse serge, and with closely-cropped heads.
The instant he saw them in the distance, young Jack guessed what itmeant, and pointed the gang out to the others.
"Let us get away if we can," said he.
"Why?" asked Harvey.
"Because it will look as though we came here simply to gloat over theirdisgrace," replied Jack.
"Right, my boy."
But there was no way of avoiding them, as there was no turning out ofthe street, and all the house doors were closed, so they were compelledto see all.
First of all came seven of the lowest-looking ruffians in creation,villains whose countenances were expressive of nothing but brutalityand vice; the eighth was Chivey, whose cheeks bore traces of tears, andthe ninth was Pierre Lenoir, who walked erect and proud as Lucifer,except when he made a half turn about as though he would like tostrangle Herbert Murray, who walked with tottering steps at the end ofthe chain.
"Poor fellows!" said Mrs. Harkaway.
"They deserve it," exclaimed her husband and Harvey, simultaneously."They tried to get our boys the very punishment that has overtakenthem."
Our friends, however, had seen enough, and did not care to witness whatfollowed.
If they had gone inside the harbour gates, they might have seen threeor four very long sharp-bowed vessels moored to the quay or lying atanchor a little way out.
Neither mast nor sail had these vessels, but from each side projected adozen or more of gigantic oars larger than those used by Thamesbargemen.
Had they gone down to the harbour they would presently have seenchained up, two of them to each oar, but with their feet so far atliberty that they could move backwards and forwards three paces.
Then they would have heard the word of command given, and would haveseen the poor slaves tugging away at the oars till the huge craft wassweeping rapidly out to sea, while the galley-master walking up anddown between the two rows of oarsmen, gave blows of his whip on theright hand or the left when he saw a man flagging, or an oar that didnot swing in unison with the rest.
Such was the fate to which the career of crime had brought the son ofthe once respected shipowner Murray.
Slavery from morn till night, beneath a broiling sun, or exposed tocold, rain, and hail, the coarsest of black bread and lentil pottage,formed his scanty meal; his associates the lowest type of humanity.
And even over and above such a hard lot there fell upon his heart thecraven fear some day that Lenoir, who was chained to the next oar,would break loose and kill him.
Many would have preferred death to such slavery, but Herb
ert Murrayfeared to die.
"Hollo, Englishman, faster!" the galley-master would shout. And thenhis whip or cane would sharply visit poor Murray's shoulders.
And the chuckling voice of Lenoir would be heard, exclaiming--
"Ah, traitor! this is nothing to what you will suffer when I have mychance for revenge."
Jack Harkaway's Boy Tinker Among The Turks Page 47