by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER IX WITH THE GALLEY SLAVES
Gervaise, on consideration, was obliged to own to himself that Ralph wasright in saying that he had no ground whatever for suspicion againstthe Greek he had met at Signor Vrados's; and he could see no means offollowing the matter up. It would not, he felt, be honourable to goagain to the merchant's house, and to avail himself of his hospitality,while watching his guest. He determined to dismiss the matter fromhis mind, and had, indeed, altogether done so when, a week later, itsuddenly recurred to his memory.
A party of slaves, under the escort of overseers and in charge of aknight who had been with them at their work on the fortifications, werepassing along the street on their way back to barracks. It was alreadydusk, and as Gervaise was going the same way as they were, he stoodaside in a doorway to let them pass. He was on the point of stepping outto follow them, when he saw a man, who had been standing in the shadowof the wall, fall in with their ranks, and, as he walked engaged in anearnest conversation with one of the slaves. He kept beside him for ahundred yards or so, then passed something into the slave's hand, andturned abruptly down a side opening. There were but few people about,and in the growing darkness the action of the man passed unobserved bythe overseers. Gervaise, thinking the occurrence a strange one, turneddown the same lane as the man.
He slackened his pace until the latter was fifty yards ahead, so that hewould not, had he looked round, have been able to perceive that it wasa knight who was behind him. After passing through several streets, theman turned into a refreshment house. The door stood open, and as theplace was brightly lit up, Gervaise, pausing outside, was able to seewhat was going on inside. The man he had followed was on the pointof seating himself at one of the tables, and as he did so Gervaiserecognised him as the Greek he had met at the merchant's house. He atonce walked on a short distance, and then paused to think.
The vague suspicions he had before entertained as to the man nowrecurred with double force; he was certainly in communication with oneor more of the slaves, and such communication, so secretly effected,could be for no good purpose. So far, however, there was nothing hecould tax the man with. He would probably deny altogether that he hadspoken to any of the slaves, and Gervaise could not point out the onehe had conversed with. At any rate, nothing could be done now, and herequired time to think what steps he could take to follow up the matter.He resolved, however, to wait and follow the Greek when he came out.After a few minutes he again repassed the door, and saw that the man wasengaged in earnest conversation with another. After considering fora time, Gervaise thought that it would be best for him to follow thisother man when he left, and ascertain who he was, rather than to keepa watch on the movements of the Greek, who, as likely as not, would nowreturn to the merchant's.
He walked several times up and down the street, until at last he saw thetwo men issue out together. They stopped for a moment outside, andthen, after exchanging a few words, separated, the Greek going in thedirection of the quarter in which lay the house of Vrados, while theother walked towards Gervaise. The latter passed him carelessly, butwhen the man had gone nearly to the end of the street, he turned andfollowed him. He could see at once that he was a lay brother of theOrder. This class consisted of men of an inferior social position to theknights; they filled many of the minor offices, but were not eligiblefor promotion. Following for ten minutes, Gervaise saw him approach oneof the barracks, or prisons, occupied by the slaves. He knocked at thedoor, and, upon its being opened, at once entered.
The matter had now assumed a much more serious aspect. This young Greek,a stranger to Rhodes, was in communication not only with some of theslaves, but with a prison official, and the matter appeared so grave toGervaise that, after some deliberation, he thought it was too importantfor him to endeavour to follow out alone, and that it was necessary tolay it before the bailiff. Accordingly, after the evening meal he wentup to Sir John Kendall, and asked if he could confer with him alone ona matter over which he was somewhat troubled. The bailiff assented atonce, and Gervaise followed him to his private apartment.
"Now, what is this matter, Sir Gervaise?" he asked pleasantly. "Nothingserious, I trust?"
"I don't know, Sir John. That is a matter for your consideration; butit seems to me of such importance that it ought to be brought to yourknowledge."
The face of the bailiff grew more grave, and, seating himself in achair, he motioned to Gervaise to do the same.
"Now, let me hear what it is," he said.
Gervaise told his story simply. A slight smile passed across thebailiff's face as he mentioned that he had met the Greek on the roofof the house of Signor Vrados, and had not liked the expression of hisface.
"Vrados has some fair daughters, has he not?" he asked.
"Yes, sir; but I know little of them. That is the only visit that I everpaid there, or, indeed, to the house of any one in the town."
Sir John's face grew grave again as Gervaise recounted how he had seenthe man enter into communication with a slave; and he frowned heavilywhen he heard of his meeting afterwards with one of the prison officers.
"In truth, Sir Gervaise," he said, after a pause, "this seems to be aright serious matter, and you have done wisely in informing me of whatyou have seen. Assuredly there is mischief of some sort in the wind. Thequestion is how to get to the bottom of it. Of course, the grand mastermight order the arrest of this Greek and of the prison officer, butyou may be sure that neither would commit himself unless torture wereapplied; and I, for one, have no belief in what any man says under suchcircumstances. The most honest man may own himself a traitor when rackedwith torture, and may denounce innocent men. It is at best a clumsydevice. What think you of the matter?"
"I have hardly thought it over yet, Sir John; and certainly no plan hasyet occurred to me."
"Well, think it over, Sir Gervaise. It is not likely that a few dayswill make any difference. But I will take measures to see that thisGreek does not sail away from the Island at present, and will speak tothe port master about it. I will myself give the matter consideration,but as you have shown yourself so quick witted in following up thematter so far, I rely upon you more than myself to carry it farther.There may possibly be some simple explanation of the matter. He may comefrom an island where the Turks are masters, and has, perhaps, brought amessage from some relatives of a slave; as to the talk with the prisonofficer, it may be wholly innocent. If we should find that it is so wewill keep this matter to ourselves, if possible, or we shall get finelylaughed at by our comrades for having run upon a false scent. If, on theother hand, the matter should turn out to be serious, you will assuredlyget great credit for having discovered it. Therefore, turn it over inyour mind tonight, and see if you can arrive at some scheme for seeingfurther into it before we take any steps."
In the morning Gervaise again called upon Sir John Kendall.
"Well, Sir Gervaise, I hope that you have hit upon some scheme forgetting to the bottom of this matter. I confess that I myself, though Ihave had a sleepless night over it, have not been able to see anymethod of getting to the root of the affair, save by the application oftorture."
"I do not know whether the plan I have thought of will commend itself toyour opinion, sir, but I have worked out a scheme which will, I think,enable us to get to the bottom of the matter. I believe that a galley isexpected back from a cruise today or tomorrow. Now, sir, my idea is thatI should go on board a small craft, under the command of a knight uponwhose discretion and silence you can rely, such as, for example, SirJohn Boswell, and that we should intercept the galley. Before we boardher I should disguise myself as a Turkish slave, and as such Sir Johnshould hand me over to the officer in command of the galley, giving hima letter of private instructions from you as to my disposal. If theyhave other slaves on board I would ask that I should be kept apart fromthem, as well as from the rowers of the galley. On being landed I shouldbe sent to the prison where I saw the officer enter last night, and theslaves and rowers should be distributed among t
he other prisons. Thus,then, the slaves I should be placed with would only know that I hadarrived in the galley with other slaves captured by it. I have no doubtI should be able to maintain my assumed character, and should in a shorttime be taken into the confidence of the others, and should learn whatis going on. It would be well, of course, that none of the officialsof the prison should be informed as to my true character, for others,besides the one I saw, may have been bribed to participate in whateverplot is going on."
"And do you mean to say, Sir Gervaise, that you, a knight of the Order,are willing to submit to the indignity of being treated as a slave? Tokeep up the disguise long enough to be taken into the confidence of theplotters, you might have to stay there for some time; and if the prisonofficials believe you to be but an ordinary slave, you will be put towork either on the walls or in one of the galleys."
"I am ready to do anything for the benefit of the Order, and the safetyof Rhodes, that will meet with your approval," Gervaise replied. "Itwill no doubt be unpleasant, but we did not enter the Order to dopleasant things, but to perform certain duties, and those dutiesnecessarily involve a certain amount of sacrifice."
"Do you think you would be able to maintain the character? Becauseyou must remember that if detected you might be torn in pieces by theslaves, before the officers could interfere to protect you."
"I feel sure that I can do so, Sir John."
"What story would you tell them?"
"I would say that I had come from Syria, and sailed from Acre in atrader, which is perfectly true, and also that I was taken off the shipI was on by a galley--which would not be altogether false, as I crossedone as I landed. I think there would be very little questioning, for Ishould pretend to be in a state of sullen despair, and give such shortanswers to questions that I should soon be left alone."
"The scheme is a good one, Sir Gervaise, though full of danger anddifficulty. If you are ready to render this great service to the Order,I willingly accept the sacrifice you offer to make. I will send one ofmy slaves down into the town to buy garments suitable for you, and alsostains for your skin. It will, of course, be necessary for you to shavea portion of your head in Turkish fashion. I will also see Sir JohnBoswell, and ask him to arrange for a craft to be ready to start atnoon. The galley is not expected in until evening, but of course she mayarrive at any moment now. Come here again in an hour's time, and I willhave the clothes ready for you."
"May I suggest, sir, that they should be those appropriate to a smallmerchant? This might seem to account for my not being placed with theother slaves who may be on board the galley, as it would be supposedthat I was set apart in order that I should be sent to one of theauberges as a servant; and my afterwards being herded with the otherswould be explained by its being found that there was no opening forme in such a capacity. I should think there would be no difficulty inobtaining such a suit, as garments of all kinds are brought here inprizes, and are bought up by some of the Greek merchants, who afterwardsfind opportunities of despatching them by craft trading among theislands."
Just before noon Gervaise walked down to the port with Sir John Boswell,a servant following with a bundle.
"It seems to me a hare brained scheme, lad," Sir John, who had justjoined him, said, as they issued from the auberge; "though I own, fromwhat the bailiff tells me, that there must be some treacherous plot onhand, and when that is the case it is necessary that it should be probedto the bottom. But for a knight to go in the disguise of an infidelslave seems to me to be beyond all bounds."
"If one is ready to give one's life for the Order, Sir John, surely oneneed not mind a few weeks' inconvenience. I shall, at any rate, be noworse off than you were when serving as a Turkish slave."
"Well, no, I don't know that you will," Sir John replied doubtfully."But that was from necessity, and not from choice; and it is, moreover,an accident we are all exposed to."
"It is surely better to do a thing of one's own free will than becauseone is forced to do it, Sir John?"
The knight was silent. He was a stout fighting man, but unused toargument.
"Well," he said, after a long pause, "I can only hope that it will turnout all right, and promise that if you are strangled in prison, I willsee that every slave who had a hand in it shall be strung up. I havetold Kendall frankly that if I were in his place I would not permit youto try such a venture. However, as I could think of no other plan bywhich there would be a chance of getting to the bottom of this matter,my words had no effect with him. I should not have so much cared if theofficers of the gaol knew who you were; but I can see that if there istreachery at work this would defeat your object altogether. What do yousuppose this rascal Greek can be intending?"
"That I cannot say, Sir John. He may be trying to get an exact plan ofthe fortifications, or he may be arranging some plan of communication bywhich, in case of siege, news of our condition and of the state of ourdefences may be conveyed to the Turkish commander."
By this time they had reached the port, and embarked at once on atrading vessel belonging to one of the merchants, from whom Sir Johnhad readily obtained her use for a day or two. Her sails were hoistedat once, and she rowed out from the port. Having proceeded some threeor four miles, they lowered her sails, and lay to in the course a galleymaking for the port would take. A sailor was sent up to the masthead tokeep a lookout. Late in the afternoon he called down that he could makeout a black speck some twelve miles away. She carried no sails, and hejudged her to be a galley.
"It will be dark before she comes along," Sir John Boswell said. "Youcan hoist your sails, captain, and return to within half a mile of theport, or she may pass us beyond hailing distance."
Gervaise at once retired to the cabin that had been set aside for theiruse, and proceeded to disguise himself. An hour later Sir John camedown. He looked at Gervaise critically.
"You are all right as far as appearances go. I should take you anywherefor a young Turk. Your clothes are not too new, and are in accordancewith the tale you are going to tell, which is that you are the son ofa Syrian trader. If, as Suleiman says, you speak Turkish well enough topose as a native, I think you ought to be able to pass muster. How longwill that dye last? Because if it begins to fade they will soon suspectyou."
"It will last a fortnight; at least, so Sir John Kendall says. But hehas arranged that if at the end of ten days I have not succeeded infinding out anything, he will send down to the prison, and under thepretence that he wants to ask me some questions about what ransom myfather would be likely to pay for me, he will have me up to the auberge,and there I can dye myself afresh."
"How are you to communicate with him in case of need?"
"His servant Ahmet, who got the things for me, is to come down everymorning, and to be near the door of the prison at the hour when theslaves are taken out to work. If I have aught to communicate I am tonod twice, and Sir John Kendall will send down that evening to fetch me,instead of waiting until it is time for me to renew my dye."
"What is going to be said to Harcourt and the others to account for yourabsence?"
"The bailiff will merely say that he has suddenly sent me away by ship,on a private mission. They may wonder, perhaps, but none of them willventure to ask him its nature."
"Well, I must say that you seem to have made all your arrangementscarefully, Tresham, and I hope it will turn out well. I was againstthe scheme at first, but I own that I do not see now why it should notsucceed; and if there is any plot really on hand, you may be able to getto the bottom of it."
It was an hour after darkness had completely fallen when the regularbeat of oars was heard. The ship's boat was already in the water, andGervaise, wrapped up in his mantle, followed Sir John out of his cabinand descended with him into the boat, which was at once rowed towardsthe approaching galley. Sir John hailed it as it came along.
"Who is it calls?" a voice said.
"It is I--Sir John Boswell. Pray take me on board, Sir Almeric. It is asomewhat special matter."
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sp; The order was given, the galley slaves ceased rowing, and the boat ranalongside. Gervaise unclasped his mantle and gave it to Sir John, andthen followed him on board.
"I congratulate you on your return, and on your good fortune in having,as your letter stated, made a prosperous voyage," Sir John said, as heshook hands with the commander of the galley.
"I would speak a word with you aside," he added in a low voice.
Sir Almeric moved with him a few paces from the other knights.
"I am sent here by our bailiff, Sir Almeric. I have a Turkish prisonerhere with me who is to be landed with those you have taken. There arespecial reasons for this, which I need not now enter into. Will you lethim sit down here by the helm? My instructions are that he is not tomingle with the other slaves; and as there are reasons why it is wishedthat his coming on board in this manner shall not be known to them, Imyself am to take him up to one of the prisons, or at least to hand himover to the officer sent down from that prison to take up the captivesallotted to it. The matter is of more importance than it seems to be,or, as you may imagine, I should not be charged to intercept you on suchan errand."
"Of course, I don't understand anything about it, Sir John, but will doas you ask me."
He went to where Gervaise had crouched down by the bulwark, beckoned himto follow, and, walking aft, motioned to him to sit down there. Thenhe returned to Sir John, and joined the other knights, who were all tooanxious to learn the latest news--who had left the island, and who hadcome to it since they sailed--to interest themselves in any way withthe figure who had gone aft, supposing him, indeed, to be Sir John'sservant, the lantern suspended over the poop giving too feeble a lightfor his costume to be noted.
A quarter of an hour later they anchored in the harbour. Some of theknights at once went ashore to their respective auberges, but SirAlmeric and a few others remained on board until relieved of theircharge in the morning, an account being sent on shore of the number ofcaptives that had been brought in. No thought was given to Gervaise, whoslept curled up on the poop. Sir John Boswell passed the night on board.In the morning an officer came off with a list of the prisons to whichthe slaves were to be sent. Sir John Kendall had seen the officercharged with the distribution, who had, at his request, not included theprison of St. Pelagius in the list.
A message, however, had been sent to that prison, as well as to theothers, for an officer to attend at the landing stage. In the morningSir John went ashore in one of the boats conveying the slaves, of whomsome forty had been captured. Gervaise followed him into the boat, andtook his seat by the others, who were too dispirited at the fate whichhad befallen them to pay any attention to him.
When he landed, Sir John asked which was the officer from St. Pelagius.One stepped forward.
"This is the only slave for you," he said, pointing to Gervaise. "He isof a better class than the rest, and in the future may be he will do fora servitor at one of the auberges, but none have at present occasion forone, and so he is to go to you. He says that his father is a merchant,and will be ready to pay a ransom for him; but they all say that, and wemust not heed it overmuch. As he seems a smart young fellow, it may bethat he will be sent to one of the auberges later on; but at present,at any rate, you can put him with the rest, and send him out with thegangs."
"He is a well built young fellow, Sir John," the officer remarked, "andshould make a good rower in a galley. I will put him in the crew of theSt. Elmo. Follow me," he said, in Turkish, to Gervaise, and then led theway up to the prison. On entering he crossed a courtyard to a door whichwas standing open. Within was a vaulted room, some forty feet long bytwenty wide; along each side there were rushes strewn thickly.
"The others have just started to their work," he said, "so that fortoday you can sleep."
After he had left, Gervaise looked with some disgust at the rushes, thathad evidently been for weeks unchanged.
"I would rather have the bare stones, if they were clean," he mutteredto himself. "However, it can't be helped."
He presently strolled out into the courtyard, where some other slaves,disabled by illness or injuries, were seated in the sun. Gervaise walkedacross to them, and they looked listlessly up at him as he approached.
"You are a newcomer," one said, as he came up. "I saw you brought in,but it didn't need that. By the time you have been here a week or two,your clothes will be like ours," and he pointed to his ragged garments."When did you arrive? Are there no others coming up here?"
"The galley came in last night," Gervaise said, "but they did not landus until this morning. I wish they had killed me rather than that Ishould have been brought here to work as a slave."
"One always thinks so at first," the man said. "But somehow one clingsto life. We shall die when Allah wills it, and not before."
"What is the matter with your foot?" Gervaise asked.
"I was with the gang quarrying stones, and a mass of rock fell upon it.I have been in the infirmary for weeks, and I own that the Christiandogs treated me well. A slave has his value, you see. I am nearly curednow, but I shall never walk well again. I expect they will put me in oneof their accursed galleys."
"How long have you been here?"
"Seven years; it seems a lifetime. However, there is hope yet. Theydon't tell us much, but we hear things sometimes, and they say that thesultan is going to sweep them out of Rhodes as they were swept out ofAcre. When will it be?"
"I know not. I am from Syria, but even there they are makingpreparations. The sultan has had troubles in the East, and that hasdelayed him, but he will be here before long, and then we shall see. Itwill be our turn then."
"It will, indeed!" one of the others exclaimed. "Oh, to see these dogsbrought down, and suffering as we have suffered, toiling at oars in oneof our galleys, or at the fortifications of one of our castles! It willmake amends for all our suffering. Had you a hard fight with them?"
"No. We were but a small craft, and it was vain to attempt resistance. Iwould gladly have fought, but the sailors said it would only throw awaytheir lives. There was but little on board, and they allowed the vesselto go free with those of the sailors who were too old to be made usefulfor hard work."
No further questions were asked. The men seemed to have no interest savein their own misery, and Gervaise soon left them, and, sitting down in ashady corner, presently dropped off to sleep.
In the evening all came in from their various work. The officer man whohad brought Gervaise in went up to the overseer of the galley slavesand informed him that he had told off the new slave--pointing toGervaise--to his gang.
"He was brought in by the galley that arrived last night," he said; "hewas the only slave sent up here. I hear that he had been set aside to beappointed a servitor, but there are no vacancies, so they sent him heretill one should occur; and I was ordered to make him useful in otherways in the meantime."
"I am two or three hands short," the overseer said. "I wish now I hadsent in an application yesterday, for if I had done so, no doubt theywould have sent me some more men. However, this fellow will make up aneven number, and he is strong and active, though at present he lookssulky enough under his bad fortune."
A few of the slaves spoke to Gervaise as they were waiting for food tobe brought them, but the majority dropped upon the rushes, too exhaustedwith toil and heat to feel an interest in anything. The food consistedof rye bread, with thin broth, brought in a great iron vessel. Eachslave had a horn, which was used for soup or water, and which, when donewith, he had, by the rule enforced among themselves, to take out to thefountain in the courtyard and wash, before it was added to the pile inthe corner of the room.
The cool of the evening aided the meal in restoring the energies of theslaves. Several gathered round Gervaise, and asked questions as to whathe knew of the prospects of an early invasion of Rhodes; but as soon asthe officer left the room, closing and locking the door after him,the slaves became for the most part silent. A few men sat in groupstogether, talking in undertones, but the
greater number threw themselvesdown on the rushes, either to sleep or to think alone. Gervaise wasstruck by the manner in which most of them lay, without making theslightest movement, so long as there was light to enable him to make outtheir figures. He himself addressed two or three of them, as they laywith their eyes wide open, asking questions with reference to the work;but in no case did he receive any reply. The men seemed altogetherunconscious of being addressed, being absorbed in the thought of theirfar distant homes and families which they might never see again.
Gervaise walked a few times up and down the room, and as he approacheda silence fell each time upon the groups of men talking together. Morethan once a figure rose soon afterwards from the ground, and, as he camealong again, asked him a few questions about himself. As soon as it wasdark, he lay down in a vacant space on the rushes. Shortly afterwardstalking ceased altogether, and there was quiet in the vaulted room. Withthe first gleam of daylight they were astir, and, when the doors wereopened, poured out into the courtyard, where all had a wash at thefountain. Half an hour later, a meal, precisely similar to that of theprevious evening, was served out; then the overseers called over themuster roll, the gangs were made up, and each, under its officer,started for its work.
Gervaise, with the men of his room, proceeded down to the port, andat once took their seats on the benches of the galley, one foot beingchained to a ring in the deck, the other to that of a companion at theoar. The slaves were more cheerful now. As there was no work to do atpresent, they were allowed to talk, and an occasional laugh was heard,for the sun and brightness of the day cheered them. Many, after yearsof captivity, had grown altogether reckless, and it was among thesethat there was most talking; the younger men seemed, for the most part,silent and moody.
"You will get accustomed to it," the man next to Gervaise saidcheeringly. "When I first came here, it seemed to me that I could notsupport the life for a month--that the fate was too dreadful to beborne, and that death would be most welcome; but, like the rest, Ibecame accustomed to it in time. After all, the work is no harder thanone would do at home. There is no stint of food, and it is no worse thanone would have, were one labouring in the fields. Were it not for theloss of those we love, it would be nothing; and in time one gets overeven that. I have long ago told myself that if they are not dead, atleast they are dead to me. They have their livings to get, and cannotbe always mourning, and I have tried to forget them, as they must haveforgotten me."
"Do you work hard?" Gervaise asked.
"No. We who are in the galleys are regarded by the others with envy.Sometimes--often, indeed--we have naught to do all day. We bask in thesun, we talk, we sleep, we forget that we are slaves. But, generally, wego out for an hour or two's exercise; that is well enough, and keeps usstrong and in health. Only when we are away on voyages is the work hard.Sometimes we row from morning to night; but it is only when they are inchase of another craft that we have really to exert ourselves greatly.Then it is terrible. We may be doing our best, our very best, and yet tothe impatient knights it seems that we might do more. Then they shout tothe overseer, and he lays his whip on our backs without mercy. Then werow until sometimes we drop, senseless, off the benches. But this, youunderstand, is not very often; and though the work on a cruise is long,it is not beyond our strength. Besides, when we are away in the galleythere is always hope. The galley may meet with four or five of ourships, and be captured, or a storm may arise and dash her upon theshore; and though many would lose their lives, some might escape,and each man, in thinking of it, believes that he will be one of thefortunate ones.
"Take my advice: always look cheerful if you can; always put your handon the oar when the order is given, and row as if you were glad to be atwork again; and always make a show, as if you were working yourhardest. Never complain when you are struck unjustly, and always speakrespectfully to the overseer. In that way you will find your life mucheasier than you would think. You will be chosen for small boat service;and that is a great thing, as we are not chained in the small boats.Some men are foolish and obstinate, but, so far from doing any good,this only brings trouble on themselves; they come in for punishmentdaily, they are closely watched, and their lives made hells for them.Even as a help to escape it pays best to be cheerful and alert. We allthink of escape, you know, though it is seldom indeed that a chance evercomes to any of us. It is the one thing except death to look forward to,and there is not a man among us who does not think of it scores of timesa day; but, small as the chance is, it is greatest for those who behavebest. For instance, it is they only who man small boats; and when asmall boat rows ashore, it is always possible that the guard may becareless--that he will keep the boat at the landing place, instead ofpushing off at once into deep water, as he ought to do--and that in thisway a chance will, sooner or later, come for springing ashore and makinga dash for liberty."