"You must come; it is urgent, and it will be made worth your while."
Whereupon the cautious commander fell like a slaughtered lamb. They
were soon alone within the four walls of a sumptuously-furnished
private office.
"What's the game?" asked the impatient captain, uneasily.
"This is it," said his friend, coming close up to him and speaking in
a low voice: "I have a secret job for you."
"Is there danger attached to it?" asked the captain.
"Yes, a good deal," replied his friend; "and I have chosen you to do
it, because I know you will carry it out successfully if you'll take
the risk."
"That's all very well," responded the captain, "but I don't care to
overburden myself with danger and risk of confiscation, without I'm
handsomely recompensed for it."
"Hush!" said his friend, nervously; "I think I hear voices. If we are
overheard by any one, we may be betrayed and pounced upon at any
moment."
After listening, he was reassured, and intimated that the worthy
skipper would be well rewarded.
"That entirely alters the question," said the captain. "How much am I
to have, and what is it you wish me to do?"
"You are to have two hundred and fifty pounds if you succeed in
getting a distinguished Turkish pasha and his suite from here, and
land them at Scutari."
"What!" exclaimed the commander. "Do you expect me to run the gauntlet
with a Turkish pasha for two hundred and fifty pounds? Why, his head
is worth thousands, to say nothing about the danger I run of having my
ship confiscated, and myself sent to Siberia. Do not let us waste
time. I will risk it for a thousand pounds, and put my state-room at
his disposal."
The agent demurred, but the captain was for some time obdurate.
However, seven hundred and fifty for the owners with two hundred for
the captain was, after keen negotiation, agreed upon. It was further
arranged that the steamer was not to sail until after midnight, so
that the risk of stoppage would be lessened, and in rowing off as soon
as it came dark, the oars were to be muffled.
"Leave these matters to me," said the captain. "How many passengers
are there?"
"Six," said the agent. "They are in hiding. I will undertake to bring
them aboard, with their baggage, in good time. Extreme care must be
used in getting them away, as we may be watched. I have had to use
'palm oil' liberally, but even that may not prevent their betrayal and
arrest."
"Well, then," said the shrewd commander, "under these circumstances I
must have my freight before the risk actually begins."
It took some time for the agent to make up his mind to part with the
money in advance, but the captain intimated that unless it was paid at
once he would throw the business up. This promptly settled the matter,
and a pledge was given by the enterprising captain to relax no effort
or dash--"Combined with caution," said the agent--to fulfil his
important mission. At 10 p.m., he was rowed alongside the steamer
without having been interrupted or spoken to from the guardship or the
sentries at the forts. After the gig was hoisted to the davits, the
chief officer and chief engineer were asked to go to the saloon, where
specific instructions were given as to the mode of procedure. The
anchor was to be hove short at once very quietly. All lights had to be
put out or blinded, and a full head of steam up at the hour of
sailing. The officers were made aware of the job that had been
undertaken, and relished the excitement of it. At 11.30 the
passengers, with a large amount of baggage, came alongside and were
taken aboard; and as a double precaution, the distinguished pasha and
his attendants went down the forepeak until the vessel got outside.
Their goods were put into the upper side-bunkers, and a wooden
bulkhead put up to obscure them from view in case the vessel was
boarded before getting clear. At midnight the anchor was weighed, and
the steamer slipped out into the Black Sea. Every ounce of steam was
used to make speed, and she was soon into safety so far as distance
could help her.
The passengers, composed of the pasha, his priest, cook, interpreter,
and servant, were then brought from their hiding-place and taken to
the captain's private room. The vessel by this time was enveloped in a
dense black fog. The first blast of the steam whistle startled the
party, and the panic-stricken interpreter rushed on to the bridge. In
a confusion of languages he implored the captain to say whether there
was danger, and begged him to come to his master and his priest and
reassure them that the whistle was being blown to let passing vessels
know of their whereabouts and the course they were steering.
"Ah," said he, "my master is a brave, clever soldier; but like most
soldiers, he does not know anything about the sea, and was in
consequence uneasy when he heard the shrill sound of the whistle.
Indeed, it made him change colour; he thought it might be a Russian
privateer demanding you to stop. And the priest did not wait one
minute; he went on to his knees and bowed his head in prayer, and the
pasha ordered me to come to you quick. You must not think that I was
nervous, captain; I was very excited only."
"Very well," replied the captain, smiling. "You may call it
excitement, but I should call it white funk, the way you conducted
yourself on my bridge. Why, you spoke every language in the universe!"
"Ah, that was not funk, captain; that was what you call confusion,
caused by anxiety for that brave soldier in your cabin, and his
spiritual adviser. Besides, captain, how can you speak to one of your
own countrymen in this fashion, and accuse him of talking so many
tongues! I am a Maltese, and have interpreted for many years for my
good friend, Osman Pasha."
"What!" cried the captain. "Is this the Turkish patriot, Osman Pasha?"
"Now, captain, _you_ are excited; but I do not say that you speak many
languages. Keep cool, and I will tell you. It is not Osman, but it is
very near him, being his lieutenant or aide-de-camp."
"Is it Suleiman?"
"No, it is not."
"Then who the devil is it? By Jupiter! I believe it _is_ Osman."
"I dare not tell you his name; he has been reconnoitring, and has had
narrow escapes."
"That's not what I want to know. Tell me straight away--is it Osman
Pasha, or is it not?"
"Captain," said the wily interpreter, "this is a secret mission. I
cannot tell secrets that may get us all into trouble; but I will
inform you that you will hear of this warrior during the next few
months. I must ask you to come and see him. He cannot speak one word
of English. Bring your chart, as he is sure to ask you to point out to
him exactly our position."
The captain followed the interpreter into the presence of a
majestic-looking person, who saluted him with kindly dignity. His face
wore a thoughtful appearance; his eyes were penetrating, and under a
massive forehead there rested well-developed eyebrows, betokening keen
observation. His chin and nose were strong, and altogether his general
looks, if not handsome, were comely. He gave the commander a real,
big-hearted grip of the hand, which settled the question of friendship
for him at once. Sailors detest a "grisly shake of the flipper." Likes
and dislikes are invariably fixed by this test. The pasha was
exceedingly cordial; asked, through his interpreter, all sorts of
questions about the British Government, British statesmen, admirals,
and generals, and the Army and Navy; but, above all, he was anxious
to hear whether the British people were for or against Turkey. He was
aware that Disraeli was with his nation, and regretted the attitude of
Gladstone. He said poor Turkey had many enemies, and when the captain
told him that he thought the bulk of the British people were in favour
of Disraeli's policy, he held out his hand again in token of
appreciation. The captain spoke very frankly about the Bulgarian
atrocities, and the bad policy of the Turkish Government with her
subject races. The pasha admitted that reforms ought to be given, but
held that the Balkan insurrections were encouraged by Russia in order
to ultimately get hold of Constantinople.
"My Government," said he, "is a better Government than that of Russia.
We do not treat our people worse than she does hers. Are there no
atrocities committed in Russia proper, in Siberia, in Poland? Why does
Mr. Gladstone not demand that Russia shall give reforms to her
subject races? Is it because she is big, and near to India, and calls
herself a Christian nation? We are Mohammedans; and our religion
teaches honesty, cleanness, sobriety, devotion to our God and his
prophet Mahomet, and we adhere to it. Does the Russian adhere to his
religion, which I admit, if carried out, is as good as ours? I think
our consistency is superior to theirs, and the extent of our cruelty
no worse, though I do not justify it. But do you think that the
Servians, Armenians, Herzegovinians, Montenegrins, and Bulgarians are
saints? Do you think that the Turkish people and Governors have not
been provoked to retaliation? There may have been excesses, but no one
who knows the different races will say that the Turks are all bad, or
that the subject races are all good."
He then requested to be shown the position of the steamer on the
chart, asked if there was any danger of collision if the fog
continued, and hoped she was steaming full speed, as he must get to
Constantinople without delay. The captain informed him that so long as
he heard the whistle going the fog was still on, and it might become
necessary to ease down as she drew towards the regular track of
vessels; and when the danger of collision was explained to him, he
agreed that it was necessary to guard against it, but asked through
his interpreter that he should be shown the chart every four hours,
which was agreed. The interpreter then intimated that the priest would
hold a service previous to retiring to rest, and during the passage
they would be held before and after every meal. The food, cooking
utensils, and cook were provided by themselves. They would not eat the
food of Christians, or use their utensils for the purpose of preparing
it. In fact, what with the weird, shrill wail of their "yahing"
prayers, the intolerable smell of their cooking, the smoke from their
"hubblebubbles," and a perpetual run of messages coming from the pasha
(while he was awake) to the officer in charge, they became somewhat of
a nuisance before the first twenty-four hours had expired. The
officers could not get their proper rest, which caused them to feel
justified in becoming profane, and wishing the Turkish windpipes
would snap.
The fog lifted, as it generally does, a little before noon, on the day
after sailing, and an accurate latitude was got; but during the
afternoon it shut down blacker than ever. The engines had to be
slowed, and the whistle was constantly going. The pasha's anxiety to
get to his destination was giving him constant worry, and he became
more and more troublesome. The interpreter explained that the Sultan
was waiting to consult his master about the plan of campaign, and
other military matters, and that the delay was making the pasha
impatient; but in spite of annoying pressure, the captain refused to
depart from the wise precaution of going slow while the fog lasted. At
midnight it cleared up a little, and the engines were put at full
speed until 8 a.m. the following morning, when they ran into a bank of
fog again. The speed was slackened to dead slow, and as she was
nearing the Bosphorus land the lead was kept going; but, owing to the
great depth of water, sounding is little guide towards keeping
vessels clear of the rocks of that steep and iron-bound coast.
Currents run with rapid irregularity, and in no part of the world is
navigation more treacherous than there. According to the reckoning,
the vessel was within four miles of the entrance to the Bosphorus, but
no prudent navigator would have risked going farther until he could
see his way; so orders were given to stop her. This brought more
urgent messages from the pasha. As the day wore on and the mist still
continued, all hope of getting into the Bosphorus had disappeared. The
pasha sent for the captain, and said he must be at Constantinople that
evening.
"Well," said the captain to the interpreter, "tell your master that if
the Sultan and all his concubines were to ask me to go ahead I would
have to refuse."
Then he proceeded to point out the dangers on the chart. This did not
appeal to the pasha's military understanding. What he wanted was to be
landed somewhere, and he did not regard running the vessel ashore with
any disastrous consequences to himself until he was assured that the
rocks were so steep that even in a calm the vessel might sink in deep
water and everybody be drowned.
"Anyhow," said the captain, "I'm not going to try it on; so you must
inform your master of my definite decision. He cannot be more anxious
than I am. I've scarcely closed my eyes since we left, and if this
continues I must face another night of it."
He then went on to the bridge, and had only been there about half an
hour when his persistent passenger approached him beseechingly,
stating that the pasha would give a hundred pounds if he was landed
that night.
"I would not attempt such a thing for twenty hundred," said the
captain.
"Will nothing tempt you, then, to run a risk?" asked the interpreter.
"Nothing but the clearing away of the fog," replied the commander.
He then commenced to walk the bridge, and pondered over the experience
he was having, wrestling with himself as to the amount of risk he
should run. He called the second officer to him, and gave him orders
to go aloft to the foretopgallant mast-head and see if he could make
anything out. The officer was in the act of jumping into the rigging
when a Turkish schooner sailed close alongside and was soon out of
sight. The captain knew then that he was in the vicinity of the
entrance, and set the engines easy ahead. The second mate, after being
at the mast-head about ten minutes, shouted--
"I see over the top of the fog a lighthouse or tower on the port bow.
I can see no land."
When he was asked if he could see anything on the starboard bow, his
answer came in the negative. The captain, fearing lest he might be
steering into the false Bosphorus, which is a treacherous deep bight
that has been the death-trap of many a ship's crew, gave orders to
stop her while he ran aloft to verify the officer's report and scan
over the mist for some landmark to guide him in navigating in the
right direction. He had only been a few minutes at the mast-head when
he discerned the white lighthouse on the starboard bow. There was no
doubt now that these were the Bosphorus lighthouses, and the vessel
was heading right for the centre. The captain asked if they could see
anything from the deck. The chief mate replied that he could scarcely
see the forecastle head, so dense was the fog. The master shouted that
he would navigate the steamer from the topgallant-yard, and gave
instructions to go slow ahead, and to keep a vigilant look-out for
passing vessels. Half an hour's steaming brought them abreast of the
lighthouses, when suddenly they glided into beautiful, clear weather.
The scene was phenomenal. Not a speck of fog was to be seen ahead of
the vessel, while astern there stood a great black pall, as though one
had drawn a curtain across the harbour entrance.
After the papers had been landed at Kavak, the pasha and interpreter
came to the bridge and asked for a few minutes' talk with the captain,
who was in excellent temper at having cut through the fog and saved
daylight through the narrow waters. The pasha was dressed gorgeously,
and many decorations adorned his uniform. He shook the proud commander
warmly by the hand, and through his interpreter gratefully thanked him
for carrying himself and his suite safely to their destination. He did
not undervalue the great danger of having them aboard in the event of
being chased and captured, nor did he under-estimate the risk that had
been run in steaming into dangerous waters during a dense fog; and in
order that the captain might be assured of his grateful appreciation,
he begged to hand him two hundred Turkish pounds for himself. After
suitably offering his thanks for so generous a gift, the captain again
asked the interpreter the name of the distinguished general he had had
the honour of carrying as a passenger, and was again told that such
questions could not be answered.
Before the sun had sunk beneath the horizon, they had reached Scutari;
and in order that the passengers might be disembarked comfortably, the
anchor was dropped. Caiques came alongside for them and for their
baggage. The captain went to the gangway to see the pasha safely into
the boat, and to say his _adieux_ to him. After he had got safely
seated in the caique, and the interpreter was about to follow, the
commander held out his hand to him and said--
"Before bidding good-bye, may I again venture to ask if I have had the
honour of conveying Osman Pasha to Constantinople, or whom I have
conveyed?"
The interpreter, with an air of injured pride, drew himself up to his
full height, and said--
"Captain, I have told you not to ask such things. Good-day."
But that was how one of the heroes of Plevna made his first English
ally by sea.