CHAPTER TEN.
SHOWS WHAT LESSONS WERE TAUGHT IN THE BAGNIO, AND DESCRIBES A BRAVE DASHFOR FREEDOM.
Bacri, the chief of the Jews, proved as good as his word.
By means of a golden lever he moved some one, who moved some one else,who moved the Dey to make certain inquiries about the slaves in theBagnio, which resulted in his making the discovery that Lucien Riminiwas a first-rate linguist and an excellent scribe.
Immediately he was commanded to fill the office of scrivano to the Dey--that post being vacant in consequence of the previous secretary havinggiven his master some offence, for which he had had his head cut off.
But Lucien's elevation did not necessarily improve the condition of hisfather and brother. The Dey cared only for those slaves who madethemselves useful to him; their relations he utterly ignored, unlessthey succeeded in gaining his regard. The Sicilians had too muchcommon-sense to expect any great immediate advantage from the change,nevertheless, the slight hope which had been aroused by this eventenabled the two who were left in the Bagnio to endure their lot withgreater fortitude and resignation. As for Lucien, he resolved to winthe Dey's esteem in order to be able to influence him in favour of hisfather and brother.
"We must learn to submit, my son," said Francisco, one evening, while heand Mariano were finishing the last crumbs of the black bread whichconstituted their morning and evening meals.
"I admit it, father," said Mariano, with a long-drawn sigh. "Bacri wasright; but it's not easy to bear. For myself, I think I could standtheir insults and their lash better if they would only spare you, butwhen I see the villains strike you as they did to-day--oh, father!"--Mariano flushed and clenched his hands--"it makes me so wild that I feelas though the blood would burst my veins. You cannot wonder that I findit impossible to submit."
"God bless you, boy," said Francisco, laying his hand on the youth'sshoulder; "I understand your feelings--nevertheless it were well thatyou learned to restrain them, for rebellion only works evil. You sawwhat was the consequence of your attacking the man who struck meto-day--you got knocked down and bastinadoed, and I--"
Francisco paused.
"Yes, go on, father, I know what you mean."
"Well, I would not hurt your feelings by mentioning it--as you say, youknow what I mean."
"You mean," said Mariano, "that in consequence of my violence they gaveyou an additional flogging. True, father, true; and _that_ is the onething that will now enable me to suffer in silence."
At this point in the conversation they were interrupted by a deep groanfrom a young man in the cell opposite, which was prolonged into anappalling cry.
Most of the slaves in the foul den had finished their meagre meal andlain down on the hard floors to seek, in heavy slumber, the repose whichwas essential to fit them for the toils of the coming day.
Some of them awoke and raised themselves on their elbows, but sank backagain on seeing that nothing particular had occurred. A few who hadbeen rendered callous by their sufferings did not take the trouble tomove, but Francisco and Mariano rose and hastened to the man, supposinghim to have fallen into a fit. Mariano moved with difficulty owing tothe chains, upwards of sixty pounds weight, which he wore as apunishment for his recent violence.
"Go--go back to your rest," said the man, who lay with clenched teethand hands, as Francisco kneeled beside him, "there is nothing the matterwith me."
"Nay, friend, you are mistaken," said Francisco, taking his hand kindly;"your look, and that perspiration on your brow, tell me that somethingis the matter with you. Let me call our jailer, and--"
"Call our jailer!" exclaimed the young man, with a fierce laugh; "d'youthink that he'd take any notice of a sick slave? No, when we get sickwe are driven out to work till we get well. If we don't get well, weare left to die."
"Surely, surely not!" said Francisco.
"Surely not!" repeated the young man. "Look; look there!"
He pointed as he spoke to the old man who lay on his back at full lengthin the recess next to his own.
"See. He is a free man now! I knew he was to be released to-night. Ihave seen many and many a one set free thus since I came here."
Francisco was horrified, on going to the place where the old man lay, tofind that he was dead. He had observed him tottering and looking veryfeeble at his work in the stone-quarries that day, but in his own miseryhad forgotten him since returning to the Bagnio.
"Too true!" he said, returning to the young man; "his troubles areindeed ended; but tell me what is it that ails thyself."
"'Tis memory," said the young man, raising himself on his elbow, andgazing sadly into Francisco's face. "Your conversation to-night for amoment aroused memories which I have long sought to stifle.--Lad," hesaid, laying a hand impressively on Mariano's arm, "take the advice thatBacri gave you. I was once as you are. I came here--years ago--with afather like thine; but he was an older and a feebler man. Like you, Ifought against our fate with the ferocity of a wild beast, and theytortured me until my life hung by a thread, for I could not endure tosee the old man beaten. As you said just now, `you cannot wonder that Ifound it impossible to submit,' but they taught me to submit. Oh! theyare clever devils in their cruelty. They saw that I cared not for mylife, but they also saw that I suffered through my father, and at lastwhen _I_ became rebellious they beat _him_. _That_ tamed me, and taughtme submission. The old one who lies there was a friend and comrade insorrow of the dear father who was set free a year ago. I lay thinkingof them both to-night, and when I saw you two taking the first steps onthe weary path which I have trod so long--and have now, methinks,well-nigh finished--I could not restrain myself. But go--get all therest you can. We cannot afford to waste the hours in talk. Only besure, lad, that you take the Jew's advice--submit."
Without replying, the father and son crept back to their hard couch.Had they been in more comfortable circumstances their thoughts mighthave caused them to toss in feverish restlessness, but sheer muscularexhaustion, acting on healthy frames, caused them to fall at once into adeep slumber, from which they were rudely aroused next morning at fouro'clock to proceed to the Marina, where they were to be engaged that dayon certain repairs connected with the bulwarks of the harbour.
On the way down they were joined by an old man in a semi-clericalcostume, whose gentle demeanour appeared to modify even the cruel natureof their savage guards, for they ceased to crack their whips at hisapproach, and treated him with marked respect.
Some of the slaves appeared to brighten into new creatures on beholdinghim, and spoke to him in earnest tones, addressing him as PadreGiovanni.
The padre had a consoling word for all, and appeared to be wellacquainted with the various languages in which they spoke.
Approaching Francisco and his son he walked beside them.
"Thou hast arrived but recently, methinks?" he said in a tone ofcommiseration, "and hast suffered much already."
"Ay, we have suffered somewhat," replied Francisco in an off-hand tone,not feeling much inclined to be communicative just then.
In a few minutes, however, Giovanni had ingratiated himself with theSicilians to such an extent that they had related all their sad historyto him, and already began to feel as if he were an old friend, beforethey had traversed the half-mile that lay between their nightly prisonand the harbour.
Arrived at their place of toil--the artificial neck connecting thelittle light-house island with the mainland,--Mariano was ordered toconvey large masses of stone for the supply of a gang of slaves who werebuilding a new face to the breakwater, while his father was harnessed,with another gang, to the cart that conveyed the stones to theirdestination along a temporary tramway.
The severity of the labour consisted chiefly in the intense heat underwhich it was performed, and in the unremitting nature of it. It mustnot be imagined, however, that there was not a single touch of humanityin the breasts of the cruel slave-drivers. Hard task-masters thoughthey undoubtedly were, some of them
were wont to turn aside and lookanother way when any of the poor slaves sat down for a few minutes,overcome with exhaustion.
There was little opportunity allowed, however, for intercourse among theunfortunates. One or two who, judging from their faces, showedsympathetic leanings towards each other, were immediately observed andseparated. This had the effect of hardening some, while it drove othersto despair.
One of those whose spirit seemed to vacillate between despair andferocity was the young man already referred to as being an inhabitant ofFrancisco's part of the Bagnio. He was a Portuguese, named Castello.In carrying the stones to and fro, he and Mariano had to pass each otherregularly every three or four minutes. The latter observed, after atime, that Castello glanced at him with peculiar intelligence. At firsthe was puzzled, but on next passing him he determined to give him asimilar look. He did so. Next time that Castello passed he said, in alow tone, without looking up, and without in the least checking hispace--
"Better to die than this!"
Mariano was taken by surprise, and at first made no reply, for herecalled the man's advice of the previous night, but, on passing thePortuguese again, he said, in the same low tone--
"Yes, much better!"
Curious to know what was meant by this--for the tones and glances ofCastello were emphatic--Mariano kept on the alert as he repassed hiscomrade, expecting more. He was not disappointed, though the nature ofthe communication tended to increase his surprise.
"Fall and hurt yourself," whispered Castello, and passed on.
Much perplexed, Mariano tried to conceive some reason for such a strangeorder, but failed. He was, however, one of those rare spirits who havethe capacity, in certain circumstances, to sink themselves--not blindly,but intelligently--and place implicit confidence in others. Hastilyreviewing the _pros_ and _cons_ while laying his stone on thebreakwater, and feeling assured that no great harm could possibly comeof compliance, he gave a nod to his comrade in passing.
"I want to speak to you," muttered Castello briefly.
At once the reason flashed on Mariano's mind. The delay consequent onthe fall would afford opportunity for a few more sentences than it waspossible to utter in passing.
On returning, therefore, with a huge stone on his shoulder, just as hepassed his friend he fell with an admirable crash, and lay stunned onthe ground.
Castello instantly kneeled by his side and raised his head.
"Ten of us," he said quickly, "intend to make a dash for the Bab-el-Ouedgate on the way back to-night: join us. It's neck or nothing."
"I will, if my father agrees," said Mariano, still lying with closedeyes--unconscious!
"If he does, pull your hat on one side of your head as you--" Atremendous lash from a whip cut short the sentence, and caused Castelloto spring up. "Rise, you dog!" cried the Turk who had bestowed it; "areChristians so delicate that they need to be nursed for every fall?"
Castello hurried back to his work without a word of reply, and Mariano,opportunely recovering, with a view to avoid a similar cut, staggered onwith his stone; but the Turk quickened his movements by a sharp flip onthe shoulder, which cut a hole in his shirt, and left a bright mark onhis skin.
For one moment the gush of the old fierce spirit almost overcame thepoor youth, but sudden reflection and certain tender sensations aboutthe soles of his feet came to his aid, in time to prevent a catastrophe.
When the slaves were collecting together that evening on the breakwater,Mariano managed to get alongside of his father, who at first was veryunwilling to run the risk proposed.
"It's not that I'm afraid o' my neck, lad," said the bluff merchant,"but I fear there is no chance for us, and they might visit their wrathon poor Lucien."
"No fear, father; I am convinced that the Dey has already found out hisvalue. Besides, if we escape we shall be able to raise funds to ransomhim."
Francisco shook his head.
"And what," said he, "are we to do when we get clear out of theBab-el-Oued gate, supposing we are so far lucky?"
"Scatter, and make for the head of Frais Vallon," whispered Castello ashe passed. "A boat waits at Barbarossa's Tower. Our signal is--"
Here the Portuguese gave a peculiar whistle, which was too low to beheard by the guards, who were busy marshalling the gang.
"You'll agree, father?" urged Mariano, entreatingly.
The merchant replied by a stern "Yes" as the gang was ordered to moveon.
Mariano instantly gave his straw hat a tremendous pull to one side, andwalked along with a glow of enthusiasm in his countenance. One of theguards, noting this, stepped forward and walked beside him.
"So much the better," thought Mariano; "there will be no time lost whenwe grapple."
Traversing the passages of the mole, the gang passed into the town, andcommenced to thread those narrow streets which, to the present day,spread in a labyrinth between the port and Bab-el-Oued.
As they passed through one of those streets which, being less frequentedthan most of the others, was unusually quiet, a low hiss was heard.
At the moment Mariano chanced to be passing an open doorway which led,by a flight of stairs, into a dark cellar. Without an instant'shesitation he tripped up his guard and hurled him headlong into thecellar, where, to judge from the sounds, he fell among crockery and tinpans. At the same moment, Francisco hit a guard beside him such a blowon the chest with his fist, as laid him quite helpless on the ground.
The other ten, who had been selected and let into the intended plot byCastello on account of their superior physical powers, succeeded inknocking down the guards in their immediate neighbourhood, and then allof them dashed with headlong speed along the winding street.
There were one or two passengers and a few small shops in the street,but the thing had been done so suddenly and with so little noise, thatthe passengers and owners of the shops were not aware of what hadoccurred until they beheld the twelve captives rush past them like atorrent--each seizing, as he passed, a broom-handle, or any piece oftimber that might form a handy weapon.
Of course the other guards, and such of the maltreated ones as retainedconsciousness, shouted loudly, but they did not dare to give chase, lestthe other slaves should take it into their heads to follow theircomrades. Poor creatures! most of them were incapable of making such aneffort, and the few who might have joined had they known of the plot,saw that it was too late, and remained still.
Thus it happened that the fugitives reached the northern gate of thecity before the alarm had been conveyed thither.
The sun had just set, and the warders were about to close the gates forthe night, when the desperadoes, bursting suddenly round the corner of aneighbouring lane, bounded in perfect silence through the archway.
The sentinel on duty was for a few moments bereft of the power ofaction. Recovering himself, he discharged his musket, and gave thealarm. The whole guard turned out at once and gave chase, but the fewmoments lost by them had been well used by the fugitives; besides,Despair, Terror, and Hope are powerful stimulators. After running ashort time together up the steep ascent of the Frais Vallon, or FreshValley, they scattered, according to arrangement, and each man shiftedfor himself--with the single exception of Mariano, who would not leavehis father.
Seeing this, the Turks also scattered, but in this condition they beganto waver--all the more that the short twilight of those regions wasrapidly deepening into night. They reflected that the guarding of theirgate was a prior duty to the hunting down of runaway slaves, and, one byone, dropped off, each supposing that the others would, no doubt, go on,so that the officer of the guard soon found himself alone with only oneof his men.
Having observed that two of the fugitives kept together, these Turksresolved to keep them in view. This was not difficult, for they wereboth young and active, while Francisco was middle-aged and rather heavy.
"Stay a moment, boy," cried the bluff padrone, as they tolled up therather steep ascent of the valley.
Marian
o stopped.
"Come on, father; they are overhauling us."
"I know it, boy," said Francisco, taking Mariano by the shoulders andkissing his forehead. "Go thou; run! It is all over with me. Godbless thee, my son."
"Father," said the youth impressively, grasping a mass of timber whichhe had wrenched from a shop front in passing, "if you love me, keepmoving on, I will stop these two, or--Farewell!"
Without waiting for a reply, the youth rushed impetuously down the hill,and was soon engaged in combat with the two Turks.
"Foolish boy!" muttered Francisco, hastening after him.
Mariano made short work of the soldier, hitting him such a blow on theturban that he fell as if he had been struck by a sledge-hammer.Unfortunately the blow also split up the piece of timber, and broke itshort off at his hands. He was therefore at the mercy of the youngofficer, who, seeing the approach of Francisco, rushed swiftly at hisfoe, whirling a keen scimitar over his head.
Mariano's great activity enabled him to avoid the first cut, and he wasabout to make a desperate attempt to close, when a large stone whizzedpast his ear and hit his adversary full on the chest, sending him overon his back.
"Well aimed, father!" exclaimed Mariano, as the two turned and continuedthe ascent of the valley.
At its head Frais Vallon narrows into a rugged gorge, and is finallylost in the summit of the hills lying to the northward of Algiers. Herethe panting pair arrived in half-an-hour, and here they found that alltheir comrades had arrived before them.
"Friends," said Castello, who was tacitly regarded as the leader of theparty, "we have got thus far in safety, thank God! We must now makehaste to Pointe Pescade. It lies about three or four miles along theshore. There a negro friend of mine has a boat in readiness. He toldme of it only an hour before I spoke to you to-night. If we reach itand get off to sea, we may escape; if not, we can but die! Follow me."
Without waiting for a reply, Castello ran swiftly along a foot-path thatcrossed over the hills, and soon led his party down towards that wildand rocky part of the coast on which stand the ruins of a fort, said tohave been the stronghold of the famous pirate Barbarossa in days of old.
The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale Page 10