CHAPTER TWENTY.
DESCRIBES A RETREAT AMONG THE HILLS.
Let us turn now, good reader, to a scene more congenial--namely, thegarden in front of the British consul's country residence.
One evening, two weeks after the event just narrated, Ted Flaggan andRais Ali chanced to meet at the gate.
"Ye've got stirrin' times of it here intirely. Mister Ally Babby," saidthe tar, whose familiarity almost verged on impudence; "what betwane youan' the 40,000 thieves--more or less--in the town, I find it rareentertainment."
"Yoos complimentary dis marnin'," returned the interpreter, with asmile.
"It's always the way with me. I howld that purliteness is chape.--Ye'veheard the noos, I s'pose?"
"W'at noos?" demanded Ali.
"W'y, the noos that the war betwane this Raigincy of Algiers an' Tunisis goin' on raither favourable, and that forty mules were brought inthis morning loaded with human heads."
"Oh yes, I heers dat," replied Ali carelessly, as he filled his pipefrom Flaggan's tobacco-pouch. "I sees all de hids as I comes up de roaddis marnin'. Twinty more mule hims 'xpec' for come in de morrermornin'."
"You don't mane it!" said Ted. "They seem to be free of their headsaway at Tunis.--But there's more noos than that," continued the seaman,calmly scanning the seaward horizon, as he filled his pipe. "Have 'eeheard that the Dey Omar has cut off the head of Sidi Hassan for nothin'worse than a touch of imperliteness?"
"No, I not heers dat," answered Ali, with a look of interest. "I'swerry glad."
"Glad! why so?"
"'Cos Sidi Hassan hims gib me reason to 'xpec' hims cut off _my_ hidsoonerer or laterer."
"It's my opinion," said Flaggan, with a peculiar smile, "that if ye gocutting away at one another like that, soonerer or laterer you'll all belike the converse o' the Kilkenny cats, and have nothin' left of 'ee butyour heads stickin' on spikes above your gates and walls."
"Pr'aps so," was Ali's complacent reply.
At this point the conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearanceof Angela and her sister Paulina, who carried in her arms the littleAngelina. Following them at some distance came the amiable Zubby,bearing aloft on her shoulder--as being the place of greatest safety--Colonel Langley's youngest hope. Master Jim's back-bone had not at thattime attained sufficient stiffness to warrant the position, but Zubbynever thought of that; and Master Jim consequently complained in aseries of yells and wry faces; but Zubby, being ignorant of the state ofhis feelings, did not mind that. Master Jim soon became purple in thevisage, but Zubby, looking up at him, and supposing the effect to be theresult of an unusual flow of spirits, rather enjoyed that thanotherwise.
"Pr'aps I may be excused for the observation," said Flaggan, removinghis pipe for a moment, and gazing over Paulina's shoulder, "but if thatyoungster ain't being strangulated he looks oncommon--"
A scream from Paulina, as she rushed back and bestowed on Zubby a box onthe ear cut short the seaman's observation.
"Have I not told you again and again, girl, _never_ to put the child onyour shoulder?"
"Oh, mim, me forgit," exclaimed the penitent Zaharian.
"That will keep you in remembrance, then," said Paulina, giving heranother slap.
Her own little one woke up at this point and crowed, being too young, wepresume, to laugh.
"Oh, Signor Flaggan," said Angela earnestly, while her sister enteredinto converse with the interpreter, "have you heers yit 'bout de SignorsRimini?"
Angela had already acquired a very slight amount of broken English,which tumbled neatly from her pretty lips.
"Whist, cushla, whist!" interrupted the seaman, leading the girls slowlyaside; "ye mustn't spake out so plain afore that rascal Ally Babby, forthough he's a good enough soul whin asleep, I do belave he's as big athafe and liar as any wan of his antecessors or descendants from Adam toMoses back'ard an' for'ard. What, now, an' I'll tell 'ee. I _have_heerd about 'em. There's bin no end a' sbirros--them's the pleecemen,you know miss--scourin' the country after them; but don't look soscared-like, cushla, for they ain't found 'em yet, an' that fellerBacri, who, in my opinion, is the honestest man among the whole bilin'of 'em, he's bin an' found out w'ere they're hidin', an--" here theseaman's voice descended to a hoarse whisper, while his eyes andwrinkled forehead spoke volumes--"an' he's put me in commission to go anhelp 'em!"
"Dear man!" exclaimed Angela.
"Which,--Bacri or me?" asked Flaggan.
"Bacri, o' course," returned Angela, with a little laugh.
Flaggan nodded significantly.
"Yes, he _is_ a dear man w'en you go to his shop; but he's as chape asthe most lib'ral Christian w'en he's wanted to go an' do a good turn toany one."
"And yoo sure," asked the girl, with rekindled earnestness in her largeblack eyes, "dat _all_ Rimini safe--Francisco an' Mar--"
"Ah, all safe,--Mariano inclusive," said the sailor, with an intelligentnod. "I sees how the land lies. Depend on it that young feller ain'tlikely to part with his skin without a pretty stiffish spurt for it."
Although much of Flaggan's language was incomprehensible to the prettySicilian, it was sufficiently clear to her sharp intelligence to enableher to follow the drift of his meaning; she blushed, as she turned awayher head with a queen-like grace peculiarly Italian, and said--
"When yoo go hoff--to seek?"
"This werry minit," answered the sailor. "In fact I was just castin'about in my mind w'en you came up how I could best throw Ally Babby offthe scent as to w'ere I was goin'."
"Me manages dat for yoo," said Angela, with a bright significant smile,as she turned and called to the interpreter.
Ali, who was rather fond of female society, at once advanced with a bowof gracious orientality.
"Com here, Ali; yoo most 'xplain de flowers me bring hom yiserday."
The polite Moor at once followed the pretty Italian, leaving Ted Flagganwith her sister.
"You'll excuse me, ma'am, if I bids you raither an abrup' good marnin'.It's business I have on me hands that won't kape nohow."
Leaving Paulina in some surprise, the blunt seaman put his hands in hispockets, and went off whistling in the direction of Algiers. Turningaside before reaching the town, he ascended the Frais Vallon somedistance, meeting with a few Arabs and one or two soldiers, none ofwhom, however, took much notice of him, as his stalwart figure andeccentric bearing and behaviour had become by that time familiar to mostof the inhabitants of the town. It was known, moreover, that he was atthe time under the protection of the British consul, and that hepossessed another powerful protector in the shape of a short, heavybludgeon, which he always carried unobtrusively with its head in theample pouch of his pea-jacket.
As he proceeded up the valley, and, gradually passing from the broadroad which had been formed by Christian slaves, to the narrow path atits somewhat rugged head, which had been made by goats, he grew morecareless in his walk and rollicking in his air. At last he began tosmile benignantly, and to address to himself a running commentary onthings in general.
"You've got a fine time of it here all to yersilf, Mister Flaggan. Ah,it's little the Dey knows what yer after, me boy, or it's the last dayye'd have to call yer own. Well, now, it's more like a drame thananything I knows on. What wid Turks an' Moors an' Jews, an' whiteslaves of every lingo under the sun, I can't rightly make out toremimber which it is--Europe, Asia, Afriky, or Ameriky--that I'm livin'in! Never mind, yer all right wid that blissid cownsl at yer back, an'this purty little thing in yer pokit."
He became silent, and seemed a little perplexed at this point, lookingabout as if in search of something.
"Coorious; I thought it was here I left it; but I niver had a goodmimory for locality. Och! the number of times I was used to miss theway to school in Ould Ireland, though I thravelled it so often andknowed it so well! Surely an' it worn't under this rock I putt it, itmust have bin under a relation. Faix, an' it was. Here ye are, mehearty, come along--hoop!"
Saying th
is, he gave a powerful tug at something under the rock inquestion, and drew forth a canvas bag or wallet, which had theappearance of being well filled.
Slinging this across his shoulder, Ted Flaggan pursued his way,moralising as he went, until he came to a rugged hollow among the hills,in which was a chaos of large stones, mingled with scrubby bushes. Herehe paused again, and the wrinkles of perplexity returned to his brow, ashe peered hither and thither.
Presently he observed a sharp-edged rock, which, projecting upwards,touched, as it were, the sky-line behind it. Moving to the right untilhe brought this rock exactly in line with another prominent boulder thatlay beyond it, he advanced for about fifty yards, and then, stopping,looked cautiously round among the bushes.
"It must be hereabouts," he muttered, "for the Jew was werry partikler,an' bid me be partikler likewise, seein' that the hole is well hid, an'wan is apt to come on it raither--hah!"
Suddenly poor Ted fell headlong into the very hole in question, andwould infallibly have broken his neck, if he had not happened to descendon the shoulders of a man who, crouched at the bottom of the hole, hadbeen listening intently to the sound of his approach, and who now seizedhis throat in a grip that was obviously not that of a child!
The British tar was not slow to return the compliment with a grasp thatwas still less childlike--at the same time he gasped in much anxiety--
"Howld on, ye spalpeen, it's after yersilf I've come, sure; what,_won't_ ye let go--eh?"
It was quite evident, from the tightening of the grip, that Mariano hadno intention of letting go, for the good reason that, not understandinga word of what was said, he regarded the seaman as an enemy. Feelingrather than seeing this, for the hole was deep and dark, Flaggan wasunder the necessity of showing fight in earnest, and there is no sayingwhat would have been the result had not Lucien suddenly appeared fromthe interior of a subterranean cavern with which the hole communicated.
Lucien understood English well and spoke it fluently. One or two ofFlaggan's exclamations enlightened him as to the true character of theirunexpected visitor.
"Hold, Mariano!" he cried; "the man is evidently a friend."
"What's that ye're saying?" cried Flaggan, looking up, for he was stillbusy attempting to throttle Mariano.
"I tell my brother that you are a friend," said Lucien, scarce able torestrain laughter.
"Faix, then, it don't look like it from the tratement I resaive at yerhands.--Howsoever," said the seaman, relaxing his grip and rising, whileMariano did the same, "it's well for you that I am. Bacri sent me wid afew words o' comfort to 'ee, an' some purvisions, which I raither fearwe've bin tramplin' about in the dirt; but--no, here it is," he added,picking up the wallet, which had come off in the struggle, "all right,an' I make no doubt it'll be of use to 'ee. But it's a poor sort o'lodgin' ye've got here: wouldn't it be better for all parties if we wasto go on deck?"
"Not so," said Lucien, with a smile, as he fell in with the seaman'shumour. "'Twere better to come to our cabin; this is only the hold ofour ship.--Follow me."
So saying he went down on his hands and knees and disappeared in animpenetrably dark hole, not three feet high, which opened off the holein which they stood.
Mariano pointed to it and motioned to the sailor to follow.
"Arter you, sir," said Ted, bowing politely.
Mariano laughed and followed his brother, and Ted Flaggan, mutteringsomething about its being the "most strornar companion hatch _he'd_ everentered," followed suit.
A creep of two or three yards brought him into a cavern which was justhigh enough to admit of a man standing erect, and about eight or tenfeet wide. At the farther extremity of it there was a small stone lamp,the dim light of which revealed the figure of stout Francisco Riminisound asleep on a bundle of straw, wrapped negligently in his burnous,and with a stone for his pillow. Beside him stood an empty tin dish anda stone jar of the picturesque form peculiar to the inhabitants of theAtlas Mountains; the sword given to him by Bacri lay within reach of hishalf-open hand.
Neither the scuffle outside nor the entrance of the party had disturbedthe old man.
"My father is worn out with a fruitless search for food!" said Lucien,sitting down on a piece of rock and motioning to the seaman to dolikewise. "We can venture out in search of food only at night, and lastnight was so intensely dark as well as stormy that we failed to procureanything. Our water jar and platter are empty."
"Then I've just come in the nick of time," said Flaggan, proceeding tounfasten his wallet and display its much-needed contents.
The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale Page 20