A CHANGE OF NAME
The next two days Mr. Beveridge and Horace spent entirely on shore.
Speaking modern Greek fluently, they were able to converse with people
of all classes from the mainland, and they learned from their reports
that Captain O’Grady’s account of the utter confusion existing from
end to end of the country was in no way exaggerated. As soon as the
Greeks perceived that Mr. Beveridge was a well-wisher to their cause,
and judging him from his possession of a large yacht to be a wealthy
man, innumerable schemes were proposed to him, all involving his
placing himself in the hands of the proposer and advancing him a
considerable sum of money. These projects Mr. Beveridge resolutely
turned a deaf ear to, his resolution being greatly strengthened by
Horace, who distrusted all these plausible adventurers profoundly.
“We must wait, father,” he said, “until we see something like a
stable government in power. When it has been at work a bit, and you
find that it makes its authority respected, restores order, and unites
the people in a common effort, it will be time enough for you to let
them have money. To give it now would simply be to waste it, and,
indeed, worse than waste it, for it would only add to the struggle for
power on which the Greeks are wasting their strength. From all we
learn the sailors of Hydra, Spetzas, and Psara are the only men who at
present are acting with any common object. As everything depends upon
crippling the Turks at sea, I should think we could not do better than
get rid of some of our guns and ammunition by giving them to them. If
we could get rid of twenty or thirty tons of our cargo it would put us
in first-rate sailing trim, and at any rate get something off our
minds. Then from there we could sail to Athens and get the papers we
require authorizing us to act as a Greek privateer. Of course that
would be no protection to us if we fell into the hands of the Turks;
but we could do nothing until we get them without acting as pirates
and rendering ourselves liable to be hung by any European man-of-war
that might overhaul us.”
This course was determined upon, to the great satisfaction of William
Martyn; and after a stay of three days at Zante sail was again set,
and the _Creole_ left the anchorage. It was well that she did so, for
the next day all their Greek sympathies would have been insufficient
to prevent their fighting on the other side. An Algerine barque that
had separated from the Turkish fleet, which had just captured
Galaxidhi and had taken possession of thirty-four Greek brigs, was
attacked by eighteen Hydriot ships. She refused to surrender, and made
such a gallant resistance that the Hydriots did not venture to run
alongside and carry her by boarding. The Algerines, knowing that if
their spars were shot away they would all be killed, ran her ashore
near the southern cape of Zante.
The fight had been witnessed by thousands of refugee Moreots and
Zanteot peasants, who opened fire upon the Algerines when they
landed. Two English officers with twenty men had gone down from the
town to enforce obedience to the quarantine regulations, which were
very strict. They ordered the Greeks to retire, but these refused, and
continued to attack the Turks. The officer commanded his men to fire
over the heads of the crowd, when the Zanteots at once turned their
muskets against them. One soldier was killed, and the rest retired
into a house with the Turks and defended themselves until a stronger
body of English troops came down from the town and rescued them. For
firing upon the troops and killing one of them five Zanteots were
afterwards tried and executed, and the lord high-commissioner issued a
proclamation forbidding the entry of any Turk or Greek men-of-war into
any Ionian port.
The Greek commercial navy, before the outbreak of the revolution,
consisted to a large extent of the shipping of the four little islands
Hydra, Spetzas, Psara, and Cazos. These islands, which were small and
barren, had sprung into importance by the wise policy of the sultans
at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Seeing that the exactions
of their own officials rendered it impossible for the Greek and
Mussulman sailors to compete with those of other nations, they had
exempted from all taxes and other burdens persons settling on these
islands, and had allowed to them perfect self-government. The result
had answered their expectations. Colonies of Albanian sailors had
established themselves at Hydra and Spetzas, while Greek seamen had
settled in Psara and Cazos, and all four islands became populous and
flourishing, owning among them nearly three hundred craft of from
sixty to four hundred tons.
The contrast between the population and manners of the four islands
was very marked. The two Albanian islands were governed by twelve
primates, elected by the wealthy, while in the Greek islands the
government was purely democratic. The Albanians were by far the more
sincere and honest, while the people of the two Greek islands were the
more courteous. All had early thrown in their lot with the
revolution. The Peace of 1815 had caused a great reduction in the
price of grain on the Continent and a fall of freights. Consequently
many ships remained unemployed, the prosperity of the islands
diminished, and the sailors became discontented and clamorous for
employment. Spetzas had been the first to declare for the revolution,
and had at once sent off some ships, which had captured a Turkish
corvette of twenty-six guns and a brig of sixteen, which, with small
crews, were waiting at Milos to receive the contingent of sailors from
the Albanian islands. The Turks, expecting no attack, were taken by
surprise; but the first Greek naval success was dimmed by the
Mussulman prisoners being all carried to Spetzas, where some were at
once murdered and the rest put to death with horrible tortures.
Psara quickly followed the example of Spetzas, but Hydra was some time
before it raised the Greek flag. The people were in favour of the
revolution, but the wealthy ship-owners, who possessed all the power,
were averse to fitting out their vessels for unprofitable service, and
opposed the revolution until a popular insurrection broke out and
their authority was set aside. The united fleet of the three islands,
instead of attacking the Turkish fleet, which was occupied in
conveying store-ships to the besieged garrisons, swept the seas of
merchantmen, and attacked and plundered an Austrian vessel. Two
Hydriot brigs captured a Turkish ship, with a very valuable cargo,
carrying, among other passengers, a recently-deposed sheikh El-Islam,
or Patriarch of the Mussulmans, and all his family. These and all on
board were murdered by their captors; but the affair in the end
benefited the Turks, for the captors refused to conform to the
regulation that had been laid down, that all booty should be the
common property of the fleet. Quarrels began between the sailors of
the different islands, so that the fleet broke up, and was for a long
time useless for any concerted action against the Turks.
The _Creole_ visited the three islands in succession, handing over to
the authorities in each ten guns, with a considerable amount of
powder and shot, a thousand muskets, and ten thousand rounds of
ammunition. There was a large amount of shipping in each of the
harbours, and Will Martyn had the _Creole’s_ guns all loaded and
double shotted before entering.
“There is no saying what these fellows may be up to,” he remarked to
Horace. “Seeing us giving away so large a quantity of valuables, they
may think that we have got a gold mine on board. I don’t mean to close
an eye while we are in harbour, I can tell you.”
Mr. Beveridge, personally, was received with much honour at these
islands, and the guns, which Will Martyn had taken care should be the
largest of those in the hold, were dragged up by the people and placed
in the batteries.
The _Creole_ then crossed to the Piræus. The Acropolis of Athens was
still held by the Turks, who were closely besieged there. Will Martyn
landed with Mr. Beveridge. Horace told his father that he would rather
not accompany him.
“You will be going about and seeing people, father,” he said, “and, as
you say, you may have to go to other places to find some of the
nominal authorities to sign documents, and so on, authorizing us to
hoist the Greek flag, and giving us the usual papers carried by
privateers. This may take time, for you and Martyn think that as the
Greeks themselves have no such formalities, but fight the Turks just
as they find them, it may be difficult for you to persuade them that
letters of marque are really required authorizing the vessel, as a
Greek ship, to capture, burn, and destroy all Turkish vessels she may
meet.”
“It is a mere formality, Horace.”
“Well, father, I don’t think that Martyn or the others look at it at
all in that light, and I know they consider it absolutely necessary
that we should have papers of that sort. Even with such papers they
say they expect there will be a lot of difficulty, if they take any
prizes, in disposing of them, and that, unless they have papers signed
by the central government, the chances are that the moment a Turkish
prize is brought into port, the Greeks will seize it as public
property, and want to cut the throats of any Turks prisoners.
Certainly we should not stand that, and we should be in the position
of having to fight the Turks at sea and the Greeks in port. So I
should not be surprised at all if you are ten days, or a fortnight,
before you can get all the papers you want. Of course Martyn’s
signature will be necessary to all sorts of things, and as there is no
humbugging him he will be wonderfully useful to you in all sorts of
ways.”
“But why should you not go with us too, Horace?”
“I would very much rather not, father. Of course I am quite with you
in wishing to see Greece independent, but I am so disgusted with all
these stories of the horrible atrocities they have been guilty of, and
at the way in which, instead of joining together to fight the Turks,
they are all bent only on getting power or spoil, and of behaving more
like a collection of bands of brigands than a united people, that I
would rather not see any more of them at present, or I shall get
regularly to hate them. In a short time, I have no doubt, we shall
hear of a lot of things done by the other side. We may be sure that
the Turks will avenge the eight thousand Mussulmans who were murdered
at Tripolitza. We heard at Zante that they had begun it, and then one
thing will balance the other and I may get enthusiastic about the
Greeks again; but at present, father, what I should like to see is
this, that the _Creole_ should be employed as a rescue ship.”
“How do you mean, Horace?”
“I mean, father, that we should try to save as many of these wretched
Turks, and their women and children, from massacre as we can; and on
the other hand, that we should try to save as many Greeks as possible
from the vengeance of the Turks. There ought to be lots of
opportunities both ways. If we are with the Greeks when they capture a
Turkish vessel we can buy off the prisoners. The Greeks are fonder of
money than even of blood, and the money will be a deal better spent
that way than if wasted among the politicians, the captains of
brigands, or primates, and would do good to the cause of Greece by
saving it from dishonour. When the Greeks make a descent upon a
Turkish island we could send our boats ashore and take off a lot of
the inhabitants, and we could do the same thing when the Turks attack
a Greek place or island; and if either Greeks or Turks interfere with
us at the work, I should say let us thrash them whoever they are. I
consider that would be a glorious mission, and would be a credit to
the flag we fly whether it is Greek or English; and if I were you I
should speak out to Kolokotronis, or any other leader you may meet,
and tell him frankly that you have come out to help the Greeks with
arms and money, but that these massacres will turn all Europe against
them; and that unless you are provided with an authority to take and
hold all Turkish prisoners, and to protect them both from the populace
and the sailors, you will withdraw altogether, and will do your best
to prevent such atrocities, even if it comes to firing upon Greek
vessels engaged in them.”
“I will do so, Horace,” his father said in a tone of decision. “We are
a match, I fancy, for half a dozen of the Greek ships. They will find
us a very different vessel to deal with than those slow-sailing Turks.
I quite approve of what you say. For the first outburst of vengeance
when they rose I am willing to make every allowance; but the revenge
taken by the Turks at Kydonia should have reminded them that there are
at least a million of their fellow-countrymen in Asia Minor whose
lives have been endangered by their atrocities. Henceforth I will, as
you propose, devote myself to saving life, and part of the money that
I had intended for the Greeks shall go to make up to the crew for any
loss they may sustain by missing the chance of taking prizes. I will
hoist the Greek flag as I intended, and we, at least, will keep it
unsullied.”
Horace repeated the substance of the conversation to Will Martyn and
the other two officers, who cordially agreed; for although they had,
of course, heard less at Zante of the details of the massacres than
their employer and his son had done, they had heard enough to fill
them with indignation, and to disgust them with the cause that they
had come out to defend.
“That will be first-rate,” Martyn said, “and I can foresee we shall
have lots of fun, and are likely to end by fighting both parties.
There will be plenty for us to do. We will see if we can’t cut off
some of the Turkish vessels laden with Greek captives for sale as
slaves in the markets of Alexandria; while, as for the Greeks, if we
slip in and save their captives they will be like a pack of wolves
after their prey. If I am to go with your father, Horace, you may be
sure I will take any opportunity I may get of speaking out, and I
reckon I will open the eyes of some of these Greek swells by the way I
will give it them. I tell you what, Miller: While I am away do you get
up eight of those eighteen-pounders from the hold and mount them
instead of the twelves. Now that she has got so much of her weight out
of her she can carry them well enough, and I fancy we are likely to
want as heavy metal as we can mount before we have done.”
At dinner that day Horace said: “Are you thinking of changing her
name, father, when you change your nationality?”
“I wasn’t thinking of changing her name at all, Horace,” Mr. Beveridge
said in surprise.
“Well, I thought, father, the Greeks wouldn’t understand the name of
the _Creole_ at all. It was a good name for a slaver and did well
enough for a yacht, and if we ever take her back to England I should
like her to be the _Creole_; but I think it would be better to have
some name that the Greeks will understand.”
“What name would you propose, Horace?”
“Well, father, I have been thinking of it, and if you have no
objection I should like to call her the _Misericordia_, ‘the Pity.’ We
came out here because we pitied the Greeks, and now we pity the
unfortunate people, both Turks and Greeks, and you have agreed that
our mission shall be to save both of them from slaughter.”
“I think it would be a very good name, Horace. The _Misericordia_ it
shall be. What do you say, Captain Martyn?”
“I think it would be a capital name, Mr. Beveridge,” Martyn said, “and
the crew will fight all the better when they know what the name means
and what we intend to do. Sailors have no particular love for the
Greeks--they always regard them as treacherous beggars; and they have
no particular hostility against the Turks, who fought pluckily enough
on our side in Egypt, and have always been friendly with us. I am sure
that when our fellows understand that what we are going in for is to
save women and children from being murdered, whether they happen to be
Greeks or Turks, you will find them ready to do anything.”
The next day Mr. Beveridge and Will Martyn landed, and Miller set the
crew at work to mount eighteen-pounders in place of the twelves, and
to get the ammunition for them into the fighting magazines in place of
that of lighter calibre. Zaimes had accompanied Mr. Beveridge. Marco
remained on board, but had leave every morning to go on shore the
first thing after breakfast, and to remain there until late in the
afternoon, when he came off in time for dinner. He brought news that
it was believed the Turks in the Acropolis could not hold out much
longer, as their provisions were running very short. After an absence
of ten days the party on shore returned, and an hour after they did so
the English flag was lowered and that of Greece was hoisted, while a
flag with the word _Misericordia_ replaced that of _Creole_ at the
masthead. Captain Martyn called the crew together.
“My lads,” he said, “you all knew that when we arrived here we were
going to hoist the Greek flag instead of our own, and that we were
going to act as a Greek privateer against the Turks. That, you see, is
done, and we are authorized by the Greek government to capture or
destroy any Turkish vessels we may meet. You see we have changed her
name, and I will tell you why Mr. Beveridge has done this. We are
going to fight for Greece, but at the same time, as British sailors,
we are not going to stand by and see men, women, and children murdered
in cold blood, whether they are Turks or anyone else. There has been
a great deal too much of this sort of thing done on both sides, and we
mean to stop it as much as we can. We are going to prevent the
massacre of Greeks by Turks, and I hope we shall manage to lay hands
on some of the Turkish vessels carrying Greek women and children
captive to sell them as slaves; but on the other hand we intend to
save as many Turks as we can from being massacred by the Greeks, and
that is the reason why Mr. Beveridge has renamed his craft the
_Misericordia_, which means ‘the Pity.’ I am sure, my lads, that there
is not a British sailor who would not risk his life to save those of
women and children, and that is what we mean to make our first object,
although we hope to lower some Turkish flags before we have done with
them; but in any case we mean to save life whether it is Greek or Turk
we have to fight in doing so. It is a work, my lads, in which we may
all be proud to take part, and in which, whether we fight under the
English flag or the Greek, we shall be doing a duty dear to every
British sailor. Now, my lads, we will give three cheers for the
_Misericordia_.”
Three hearty cheers rang out from the sailors. They had all been on
shore at Zante, and had heard enough from the soldiers they
fraternized with there to fill them with disgust and indignation at
the conduct of the Greeks, and this announcement that they would
henceforth put a stop to such cruelty, even if they had to fight for
it, filled them with satisfaction.
“We had hard work of it,” Martyn said to Horace, talking over his
visit ashore. “In the first place they wanted us to hand over all
prisoners we took, and half the plunder and value of the prizes, to
their miserable government. We told them that we would see them at the
bottom of the sea first. I was with your father at a meeting with the
fellows they call Kolokotronis and Odysseus, and half a dozen other of
their leaders, and you should have seen how your father spoke out. He
got upon his legs and he just poured it out. I did not know, of
course, what he was saying, but he told me a little about it
afterwards, and I could see by their faces that it was hot and strong.
“He told them that their countrymen had disgraced their cause by
conduct worthy only of the lowest savages, and that if they did not
give him the authority he demanded, to interpose to save Turks from
massacre, he would sail on to Constantinople, hoist the Turkish flag,
and fight against the ships that behaved like bloodthirsty pirates
rather than Greek patriots, and that they would find his ship a very
different opponent to the Turks. I did not think your father had it in
him. It was splendid, I can tell you, and the faces of those fellows
were worth seeing. I don’t expect they ever had such a straight
talking to before. I believe altogether he spent about a thousand
pounds in bribing a dozen of them; anyhow he got what he wanted. In
the first place we are authorized to hoist the Greek flag, and to
capture and destroy Turkish vessels; and in the second, to dispose as
we please of all prisoners. We may take on board Turkish fugitives and
dispose of them at our pleasure, free from all interference from any
Greek authorities or Greek ships. We are to pay a quarter of the value
of all prizes and booty into the treasury of the central government,
and are to send ashore to-morrow five thousand muskets and twenty
rounds of ammunition for each.
“Your father has had a hard time of it. I don’t believe there has been
a single Greek politician or leader who hasn’t called upon him
privately, to what they call borrow money from him. At last I had to
regularly mount guard over him and set Zaimes at his door to tell all
comers that he was too unwell to see anyone, which was not far from
the truth, for he was regularly upset at the meanness and trickery of
the people he had come to spend his fortune to assist. However, thank
goodness it is all over. I am precious glad that I am back, I can tell
you, for I believe if I had stayed there much longer I should not have
been able to have prevented myself from walking into some of them.
Your father has been trying to find out whether they have got any
general plan of defence; but they have no more plan than a lot of
children would have if they got up a rebellion. Everyone wants to be a
leader; everyone complains of everyone else. They scarcely seem to
give the Turks a thought. All their energies are occupied by their own
miserable squabbles and rivalry. Well, I don’t want to set foot on
shore again as long as we are out here, unless it is on some real
expedition.”
“What about the Turks in the Acropolis, Martyn?”
“They are negotiating, but the poor beggars know there is no faith to
be placed in the Greeks, and that so far there is not a single
instance in which they have kept their promises for the safety of
garrisons who have surrendered. They want the guarantee of the
European consuls for their safety, but they can’t give it, as they
have no force here to protect them. I told our consul that we would
lend him the whole of our crew if he liked, and that I thought we
could pretty well clear out the town; but he said that that would be
well enough if there was no one to protect. But that as there are
something like two thousand men, women, and children up in the
citadel, fifty men could never protect them against the mob. However,
I hope the Turks will be able to hold out for some time yet. The
Greeks only guess that their provisions are running short, and if a
man-of-war, French, or English, or Austrian, comes into the harbour
the consuls will ask its commander to protect the Turks, and will then
guarantee their safety.”
“When are we going to sail?” Horace asked.
“To-morrow. The two Greeks will go ashore the first thing in the
morning to lay in a fresh stock of meat and vegetables. As soon as all
are on board we will get up anchor. I have heard lots of shocking
stories on shore from Greeks who have escaped from Asia Minor and the
Turkish islands. There have been massacres in almost every city where
there were Greeks; at Smyrna, Adrianople, Salonika, Cos, Rhodes, in
Crete and Cyprus, and as far as I can hear the Turks have altogether
massacred nearly as many men, women, and children as the Greeks have
done. I saw General Gordon, who is a warm friend of the Greeks, and
he said that it was impossible to justify the ferocity of the Greeks,
or to deny that a comparison between them and the Turks would give the
latter the palm of humanity; that is, if the term humanity could be
employed to either.
“We went up and saw some of the troops, as they call them, active,
hardy-looking fellows. They seem in earnest enough, and are ready, as
a French officer said to me, to submit to anything but discipline. He
said that the Klephts and armatoli are as fine material for mountain
warfare as one could wish to see; one day honest, hard-working
peasants, the next engaged in partisan war, or in raids on their
neighbours; frugal, hardy, active, and in their way brave; men who
would never storm a position or stand against the attack of Turkish
infantry or cavalry, as the war has everywhere shown so far; but who
would defend a hillside or hold a ravine against good troops, and when
driven out, make another stand at the first position they came to.
Anyhow they are worth a lot more than the townspeople, who brag and
vapour and go about armed to the teeth, but who take precious good
care never to get within range of a Turkish musket.”
Early the next morning some large boats came off, and the muskets and
ammunition were transferred to them, and at noon the two Greeks
brought off a boat-load of fresh meat, vegetables, fowls, eggs, fruit,
and other stores. As soon as these were slung on board, the anchor was
got up, and the _Misericordia_, under a gentle breeze, stole out to
sea.
“That is better, Miller,” Will Martyn said as he looked over the side.
“She has not gone like that since we shook out our sails for the first
time. I should say she is just about in her right trim now, and is
ready to fight or sail anything of her size afloat. How easily she
goes through the water. There is scarcely a ripple in her wake. She is
a beauty.”
“Which port now, Martyn?”
“I was talking it over last night with Mr. Beveridge, and as soon as
we get well off land I am going to shape a course that will take us
down between Cyprus and Alexandria. It is of no use cruising about
here. The Turks only move about under a convoy of their men-of-war,
and it would not be much better across on the other side, for the
Greek vessels are everywhere on the look-out. But they don’t like
going far from home, and if we cruise well to the south we shall have
a good chance of falling in with craft bound for Alexandria from
Cyprus, Crete, and Syria, and any or all of them will be likely to be
carrying Greeks captives to the slave-markets at Alexandria, Tunis, or
Tripoli.”
“Those are the sort of craft to meet with,” Miller said. “I suppose
they are sure to be armed. Of course one would be glad to rescue
captives and save them from their horrible fate. But there will be
much more satisfaction in doing it if we have a bit of a fight first.”
“Yes, I should say they were certain to be armed. No Turk would
venture to sea at present unless he thought himself strong enough to
beat off the attack of at least two or three of these Greek vessels.
After cruising about for a bit we intend to dodge about Cyprus and the
other Turkish islands, keeping near the coast so as to give Greek
fugitives a chance of coming on board. We know that there have been
massacres at all these islands, and may be again, and there must be
thousands of unfortunate creatures who would give anything for such a
chance of getting away. We can anchor in quiet bays, for we need have
no fear of any boat attack; and if the Turks come out in force we have
always the option of running away or fighting.”
“That is a very good programme, Martyn. We are not likely, as you say,
to find any Greek craft cruising about between Cyprus and Alexandria.
Turkish vessels going up towards the Dardanelles, or coming down from
there, are prizes worth taking, for they may have pashas and rich
officials on board; but down there they would be less likely to have
anything that would repay the Greeks for the risks of a fight. As for
risking anything to save their countrymen, Mr. Beveridge was saying
he heard that at the massacre of the Greeks at Kydonia, although the
Greek fleet, under Tombazes, was close at hand, and their launches
went on shore and rescued four thousand of their countrymen, they
compelled them all to purchase their passage to the nearest Greek
island by giving up the greater part of the property they had saved.”
“Brutes!” Martyn exclaimed with great emphasis. “How these fellows can
be descendants of the old Greeks beats me altogether.”
“The old Greeks were pretty cruel,” Horace, who had just joined them,
said. “They used to slaughter their captives wholesale, and mercy
wasn’t among their virtues. Besides, my father says that except in the
Morea very few indeed are descendants of the Greeks; the rest are
Bulgarian or Albanian, neither of whom the Greeks of old would have
recognized as kinsmen.”
“It is a case of distance lending enchantment to the view,” Miller
laughed; “our illusions are gone.”
“Never mind, we must make the best of them, Miller; they are not
Greeks, but at any rate they are all that is left of the Greeks. Their
actions show that their Christianity is a sham, but at the same time
they are an intelligent race capable of some day becoming a great
people again, and they are struggling to throw off the yoke of a race
intellectually their inferiors and incapable of progress in any sort
of way. That is what my father said to me as we were walking up and
down the deck this morning. That is the light I mean to look at it in
the future. It is a capable people struggling with an incapable one,
and if they are savage and vindictive and debased it is the faults not
of themselves but of those who have so long been their masters.”
“Good,” Martyn said; “that is the most satisfactory view of the thing,
and we will stick to it and shut our ears as much as possible in
future against all stories to the Greeks’ disadvantage.”
In the afternoon a fleet of vessels were seen standing out from the
land.
“There is one of the Greek fleets,” Captain Martyn said. “Now we will
try her rate of sailing with them. Stand on for a little bit longer
and then haul her wind on the same tack they are sailing.”
The trial was perfectly satisfactory. By nightfall the Greek fleet
were far behind, and the _Misericordia_ again shaped her course for
Cyprus. For a week they cruised backwards and forwards under easy sail
about midway between Cyprus and Alexandria, without meeting with a
single craft flying the Turkish flag. Half a dozen vessels were
overhauled, but these were all Austrian, Italian, or British. The
appearance of the schooner evidently excited profound distrust in the
minds of the masters of all these vessels, for they all hoisted every
rag of sail they could set and did their best to escape from her, but
Captain Martyn had no difficulty in overhauling them and satisfying
himself of their nationality. The astonishment of the masters when the
smart gig manned by six English sailors rowed alongside was unbounded,
and was only equalled by their satisfaction.
“You have given us a nice fright,” the master of one of the English
ships said to Miller, who, accompanied by Horace, had boarded him.
“What on earth are you flying that Greek flag for? We took you for a
pirate, for half these fellows are no better when they get the
chance.”
“We are a Greek privateer.” Miller said, “and carry letters of marque
issued by the Greek government. We only wanted to assure ourselves
that you were not Turks.”
“Turks be jiggered!” the master said angrily. “I should have thought
anyone with half an eye could have seen that we weren’t one of those
lubberly Turks.”
“Quite so, captain, we made that out some time ago, and we have only
overhauled you to ask whether you know of a Turkish ship likely to be
sailing from any of the Eastern ports. Our object is to rescue Greek
women and children on their way to the slave-markets.”
“Then give us your flipper,” the master said; “that is a business an
English sailor needn’t be ashamed of, though, as for sailing under a
Greek flag, I would almost as lief sail under the skull and
cross-bones, for nine cases out of ten it means pretty nearly the same
thing. I have known many a ship sail in among those Greek islands and
never be heard of again when there had been no storm to account for
her disappearance. I would as lief anchor a ship near land in the
Malay Archipelago as among the Greek islands. Still the women and
children ain’t to blame for that. I was at Broussa two months ago and
the slave-market was chock-full of Greek girls and children, and I
thought then what a burning shame it was that Europe didn’t interfere
to put down such villainous doings. Well now, as to Turkish ships, I
don’t think you are likely to meet with any hereabouts. The Greeks
have given them a bad scare, and I fancy that all the ships from
Cyprus and from Aleppo and the other Syrian ports will run down due
south till they sight land, and will hug that as near as they dare go
till they get within shelter of the batteries of Alexandria. If you
are after Turkish vessels you must stand south and anchor as close
inland as the water will let you. Get down those lofty spars of yours.
You don’t want them. That craft of yours sails like a witch. We think
the _Scarborough_ is a fast brig. You went through the water three
feet to our two, so you can do without your topsails. I can tell you
the look of your craft is enough to frighten one fifteen miles away; a
more rascally-looking vessel I never saw, she looks like a pirate all
over.”
“She was a slaver at one time,” Miller said.
“Ah! that accounts for it. I thought that long low hull and those
lofty spars were never put together for an honest purpose. You seem to
carry mighty heavy metal,” he went on, looking at the _Misericordia_,
which lay with her head sails aback a few hundred yards away. “Four
each side and a pivot; they look like eighteens.”
“They are eighteens,” Miller said. “You see we have got to keep a
sharp eye on friends as well as foes.”
“I should think so. Well, I have just come out from Larnaca. I heard
from our consul that there were bad doings in the north of the island,
and that the Christians were having a very rough time of it all
through Cyprus. I have no doubt there are a lot of Christians hiding
there who would give every stiver they have got in the world to be on
board this craft.”
“And you say there were some massacres going on when you were there?”
“Yes, and I heard that the Turks were attacking one of the Christian
villages on the north-western corner of the island. It was some way up
on Mount Olympus, a few miles from the coast. Morphou Bay is the
nearest point to it. I hear it is naturally a strong place, and
Christians from other villages round have gone in there. The people
attacking it are not troops, who I fancy have nothing to do with these
massacres, but the natives of the Mussulman villages. Some of the poor
devils may have got down to the coast, and you might pick some up if
you were to cruise along there.”
“Perhaps we might,” Horace said; “at any rate it would be worth a try.
We will go on board again at once.”
“Will you have a glass of wine first? I got hold of some good stuff at
Larnaca. Good wine is cheap there now.”
“No, thank you, we will be off at once,” Miller said.
“Well, good-bye, gentlemen, and good luck to you! There is nothing I
would like better than to be going for a cruise with you for a few
months, for no vessel can do better work than that which you are
engaged on.”
Miller and Horace dropped down into their boat, and were rowed back to
the schooner.