RESCUED
As soon as the excitement subsided a little, Mr. Beveridge assembled
the heads of the families in the village church. “You must prepare to
leave at once,” he said. “Our landing will be shortly known, and it
will be guessed that we intend to take you off in our ship. The
consequence is, in addition to the enemies now round you others will
gather, and it will be no longer possible to cut our way through. What
we propose to do is to make a rush out, the women and children
following us. As soon as we have gained that wood and driven the
Mussulmans out the women and children will hurry up the path, while
all the fighting men will hold the wood and keep the Turks at a
distance. There are some more of my men at the top of the hill there;
these will keep off any parties of the enemy who try to scale the
hillside at other points. As soon as the women are fairly at the top
the men will fall back gradually. The sailors will cover the retreat.
We shall hold the top of the hill till we know that the women have got
nearly down to the sea-shore, and then fall back. We are risking our
lives here to save you, and we shall expect all the men to fight
valiantly and to obey our orders. It is only by working well together
that we can hope to beat off the Turks as we retreat, and to get
safely on board ship. You must not load yourselves with baggage; of
course each man can take anything he can carry wrapped in his sash,
and the women can take bundles such as they can carry on their heads,
but they must beware not to take too great weights. Anyone who lags
behind will have her bundle taken off and thrown away.”
“Would it not be better to wait till night?” one of the elders of the
village asked.
“No. The captain of the ship says that in the dark we should not be
able to keep off the enemy nor to travel fast. We may lose rather more
in the first rush in daylight, but after that the light will be all in
our favour. How many men have you armed with muskets?”
“There are a hundred and forty-six men, and all have guns.”
“How many women?”
“There are about two hundred women and girls, and a hundred and eighty
children of all ages.”
“Very well, I leave it to you to make preparations. You must tell the
women that they are to keep together, and to follow about a hundred
yards behind the men as they advance. As soon as the wood is taken
they are to hurry through it, mount the hill by the path, and then
without stopping a minute go on at the top of their speed to the
sea-shore. It is just possible that some Turkish ships-of-war may have
driven our vessel away, but if that is so she will be back again this
evening. If they find she has gone they must sit down under shelter of
the rocks near the shore, and we will keep the Turks at bay till the
ship arrives. Make your preparations and get your valuables together,
for in an hour from the present time we shall sally out.”
While this was going on Martyn had formed up the villagers, for the
firing had now ceased. The besiegers had before shrunk from attacking
the wall, relying upon famine to compel the defenders to surrender,
and the addition, small as it was, to the garrison rendered any idea
of assault more formidable than before. Horace acted as Martyn’s
interpreter.
“Now,” he said, “I expect we shall have no difficulty in carrying the
wood, for the enemy can have no idea that we intend to escape in that
direction, or that we mean to sally out at all; therefore it is not
likely that they will have more than fifty or sixty men at that point.
In the first place I want forty determined men who can be trusted to
obey orders.”
One of the leaders of the defence chose out that number of men. Martyn
divided them into two parties and told off five sailors to each.
“Horace, you will take command of one of these bands, and you, Jones,”
he said to the coxswain of his gig, “will take command of the other.
Your bands will fall in behind the main body, which I shall lead. We
shall go straight at the wood. You will follow us till you are
half-way across the open, and will then take post, one to the right
and the other to the left, fifty yards from the line we take. Your
work will be to check any of the Turks who may come running down from
the ends of the valley, and to cover the passage of the women. As
soon as they have all passed along you will both run in and join us in
the wood. Now, lads, I want the wall undermined for a width of ten
yards or so, so that when we push it it will all fall together and
leave a wide front for us to pour out. It is not above three hundred
and fifty yards or so to the wood, and we shall be half-way across
before the Turks can pull themselves together, and they won’t have
time for much more than a shot each before we are upon them.”
In an hour the whole of the villagers were gathered. There were five
or six wounded men unable to walk. These were laid on doors, and four
Greeks were told off to each. The children were told off, one to each
woman. Twenty of the Greeks were to form a special escort for the
women, and Martyn’s order to their leader was, “See that each woman
takes along the child told off to her. If she doesn’t help it along,
take off her bundle and throw it away; force her to look after the
child. Not a single child shall be lost if we can help it. Life first,
property next.”
Martyn was well pleased with the bearing of the Greeks. The men looked
ready and eager for the fight; the women, stern and determined. All of
them had knives or daggers in their sashes. Some, in addition, had
their husbands’ or fathers’ pistols. Their bundles were poised on
their heads, and each, with the exception of a few of the old women,
had an infant in her arms or held a child by the hand. The twenty
English sailors formed the first line; behind these came the main body
of the Greeks. Horace’s and Jones’ parties were drawn up three or four
paces in their rear, and behind these were gathered the women.
“Now,” Martyn said to the Greek fighting men, “on one point my orders
are distinct. Not a shot is to be fired until we reach the trees.
Firing would be no good whatever; it would be a loss of time, and your
guns would be empty just when you want them; besides, you would be as
likely to shoot those in front of you as the enemy. All you have got
to do is to follow me closely until you get into the olive grove,
then scatter and clear it of the Turks; but don’t go a foot beyond
them in pursuit. Directly it is clear let each man take up his station
behind a tree at its edge, and defend himself there until the order is
given to fall back.”
Zaimes translated the order, then the sailors advanced to the wall,
from which the lower stones had been removed as far as was safe. “Now
put your shoulders to it, my hearties, and heave all together. One,
two, three; now!”
The walls shook as the sailors flung themselves against it. “It is
going. Now another try.” There was a shout as the wall toppled over.
Then with a cheer the sailors sprang forward, led by Martyn, dashed
over the fragments of the wall and down the steep rock, the Greeks
pouring after them in a confused mass, and then the whole dashed
across the flat cultivated ground towards the olive grove. As Martyn
had foretold, not a shot was fired until they were nearly half-way
across, though loud shouts of alarm were heard, then a straggling fire
was opened; but the enemy were evidently too flurried and alarmed to
take aim. Without a check the sailors ran on, cutlass in hand, but the
Turks did not await the attack. Outnumbered and surprised they had no
sooner fired than they dashed away among the trees to join their
companions right and left, and the olive grove was deserted when the
sailors entered.
“That will do, lads!” Martyn shouted. “Leave the Greeks to hold the
wood. Sheath your cutlasses and unsling your rifles. Come back with me
to help the others; keep back the enemy in the open.”
There was, however, no occasion for assistance. The women, instead of
waiting, had followed close behind the flanking parties, and were
already coming into the wood. By the time Martyn joined the flanking
parties the women had all passed, while Horace and Jones were just
beginning to fall back with their commands. By this time the valley
rang with shouts and cries, and guns were being aimlessly discharged,
but the sailors were back in the olive grove before the Turks had
mustered strongly enough to think of advancing. The sailors lay down
in the intervals between the trees, and as soon as the enemy began to
advance a heavy fire was opened upon them, the twelve rifles telling
with deadly effect. The Turks on the opposite side of the valley
instead of advancing at once to the assistance of their comrades, made
a rush at the village as soon as they perceived that it was no longer
defended, thinking for the moment much more of plunder than of
attacking the retiring Greeks, while the parties who had begun to
advance towards the wood rapidly retired again before the heavy fire
opened upon them.
“Go round and stop those Greeks firing, Horace; the fools are simply
wasting their ammunition,” Martyn said savagely as the Greeks
continued to blaze away when the enemy were already out of range of
their guns. Horace hurried off one way and Zaimes the other, and in a
minute or two the firing ceased. As it did so the report of guns could
be heard on the hill above them.
“That is Tarleton’s party at work,” Martyn said to Mr. Beveridge. “Of
course the Turks have seen the women mounting the hill, and I suppose
some of them were beginning to climb up to cut them off. Tarleton’s
fire will stagger them a bit.” From the shouts in the valley it was
evident that the enemy were gathering for a serious attack. Horace had
returned to Martyn’s side.
“Now, Horace, do you take ten of the men and ascend the path half-way
up the hill. Post five of them on each side of it to act as flanking
parties. Zaimes, do you tell your countrymen it is time for us to be
off. We must get well up the hillside before these fellows make their
rush. Mr. Beveridge, will you make your way up the path at once. These
Greeks are as active as goats, and I should recommend you to be
pushing on to get a start of them.”
In a couple of minutes the entire party had left the wood and were
mounting the path, Martyn and his sailors forming the rear-guard. The
Greeks sprang up the path with such speed that the sailors, active as
they were, had hard work to keep near them. Mr. Beveridge was speedily
overtaken.
“Jones, you take Mr. Beveridge’s rifle; and do you, Hawkins and
Baldock, help him along. Make haste, lads! we shall have a storm of
bullets coming up after us in no time;” for as soon as the fugitives
appeared on the path above the level of the tree-tops a loud shout had
broken from the enemy, and it was certain they would soon be upon
them. So rapidly, however, was the ascent made that Martyn and the
sailors reached the spot where Horace with his party had taken up his
position before a shot rang out from below. There was a slight
shoulder on the hillside at this point, and lying down here the men
were sheltered from the fire below.
“Wait here, my lads, until you get your wind. Their guns will hardly
carry this height, and there is no fear of their showing themselves
above the trees, at any rate for the present.”
Mr. Beveridge threw himself down on the grass, and even the sailors
were glad of a pause, for in the five minutes that had elapsed since
they left the wood they had climbed half-way up the hill and were
fully three hundred feet above the olive grove. A roar of musketry
broke out from below, and some of the Mussulmans dashed out from the
trees, waving their guns and calling upon the others to follow them;
but as soon as they showed themselves the sailors under Horace opened
fire. Some of the others would have joined them, but Martyn forbade
them.
“It is no use trying to take aim, lads, just after such a run as that.
You must wait until your breath comes quietly, and your hands get
steady again. You would be only throwing away powder and ball, and we
shall probably want all we have got before we are on board the
schooner again.”
The firing above still continued, and looking along the hillside men
could be seen straggling up in considerable numbers on either side.
“Forward, lads! we must move on again. Horace, you may as well bring
your men straight up. There is no fear of their venturing on an attack
up this path. Bring your father on with you. There is no occasion for
haste; we will push straight up now. Forward! Don’t run, but go at a
steady pace that you can keep up till we reach the top.”
Horace followed with the rear-guard at a leisurely walk wherever the
inequalities of the ground sheltered the path from the bullets that
still came singing out from below, and stepping out briskly whenever
they were exposed to fire. The coxswain was waiting with orders when
they reached the top.
“The captain’s orders are, Mr. Beveridge,” he said to Horace, “that
your party is to remain here for the present with these twenty Greeks.
You are to spread along the edge here for a bit and keep up a fire, if
the Turks try to climb the hill hereabouts. The captain is with a
party away there on that high ground back on the left, and Mr.
Tarleton with the rest back there on the right, so as to prevent the
varmint working round in front of us. You are to let them know if you
see any large bodies of men climbing the hill, either right or left of
you.”
Horace divided his party in two, telling Jones with five sailors and
ten Greeks to take post a hundred yards to the left of the path, while
he with the others went the same distance to the right.
“Don’t let them waste their ammunition, Jones. My father and Zaimes
will go with you, and as you three have rifles you may do something to
check those fellows from climbing up away to the left. It is no use
the others firing, their guns won’t carry half the distance. Of course
if the Turks try to come straight up from the wood your party will all
open fire upon them.”
As soon as he got to his station Horace lay down, and with one of the
sailors with him who had a rifle, opened fire upon the stream of men
ascending the hillside near the head of the valley. After firing three
or four rounds he told the sailor to desist.
“We are only wasting our ammunition, Frost,” he said. “They are seven
or eight hundred yards away, and the rifles are of no real use at more
than half that distance.”
Ten minutes later he sent off sailors to Martyn and Tarleton, to tell
them that the Turks continued to climb the hill in large numbers, and
that he should think that at least two hundred men must have gone up
on each flank, that flames had broken out in the village, and numbers
of men were pouring out from there, and would probably join in the
attack. A few minutes later a message came from Martyn:
“The captain says, sir, that now the women have got half an hour’s
start we shall fall back. Your party are to retire by the path. He and
Mr. Tarleton will work down the hill on your flanks. You are to keep
your eye on them, and regulate your pace by theirs, keeping about a
hundred yards in their rear, unless you are pressed, when you can
double on till you are in line with them. He has sent orders to Mr.
Tarleton, sir.”
Horace was expecting the order. A sharp fire had broken out on either
side, and he knew that the Turks were trying to work round to cut them
off.
“Run on,” he said to the sailor, “and tell the other party over there
to join me in the path.”
In three minutes the united body was marching to the rear. The crackle
of musketry was now incessant, and Horace soon caught sight of the two
flanking parties making their way down the hill at a distance of a
hundred yards or so on either side of the path. They were in scattered
order, loading as they retired, crouching behind rocks to take a
steady aim, and then retiring again; going at a run when the ground
permitted it, hanging to the rocks and bushes when they afforded
shelter. On the higher ground, to the left of Martyn’s party, were a
number of Mussulmans. They were pursuing similar tactics to those of
their opponents--at times crouching behind rocks, and then bounding
forward with loud yells.
“Get ready to fire, lads,” Horace said. “The next time those fellows
make a rush give them a volley. They are not thinking of us yet, and
we shall take them by surprise. Take steady aim; don’t hurry. Halt;
drop on one knee. They will be crossing that open space in a minute.”
He repeated the order to the Greeks. “There they come,” he said a
moment later. “Get ready! Now fire!”
Thirty guns rang out; several of the Turks fell, and the rest, with a
shout of surprise, bounded back into the bushes.
“Now retire briskly for a bit, and load as you go.”
After a hundred yards’ running they again fell into a walk. Horace
kept his eye upon Tarleton’s party. They did not seem so severely
pressed, and had the advantage that their foes were on somewhat lower
ground than they were. Presently a sailor came in from the left.
“Captain Martyn’s orders are that the two flanking parties are to fall
back quickly to the path, then to double down the hill to that
shoulder a mile below. You are to act as rearguard, and to follow
close behind them.”
In two or three minutes the two flanking parties, taking advantage of
cover which concealed them from the enemy, made a rush to the path.
The body under Tarleton gained it first, and at once started down at
the top of their speed. Martyn’s party were but a minute later. He
himself paused till Horace came up at a run.
“We can go faster down this path,” he said, “than they can follow over
the rough ground, and there are such a lot of them that they will
jostle each other on the path, and won’t get along as fast as we
shall. How are you feeling, Mr. Beveridge?”
“I am all right now we are going downhill, Martyn. It is only the
climbing I can’t stand. This is really very exciting work, though I
don’t like running away.”
“We will make another stand presently, but I wanted to be getting on.
They will get stronger every minute, and we shall have to fight hard
presently. Do you see that the schooner has gone?”
An exclamation broke both from Mr. Beveridge and Horace. In the
excitement of the fight neither of them had thought of the schooner.
“There she is, five-and-twenty miles away to the northwest, with two
Turkish frigates lumbering after her.”
The firing had ceased; the yells of the Turks rose loudly in the air,
but they were fully two or three hundred yards in the rear.
“We are in plenty of time,” Martyn said. “We will line the other side
of that flat step when we reach it. We can keep them back there for
some time.”
There was no attempt at keeping in order, the path was too steep and
broken; but they went down running and leaping, each as he best could.
Down the path, in front, was a long straggling line of Greeks, with
the sailors, keeping in two distinct bodies, among them. As soon as
the head of the line came down on to the flat step in the hill they
spread out right and left, and in less than ten minutes from the issue
of the order to retreat the hundred and eighty men were lying down
along the lower edge of the level ground, which was some forty yards
across, the centre of the position being left vacant for the last
party that arrived. The instant the rear-guard threw themselves down
they opened a heavy fire upon the Turks, who were crowding down the
path. Horace was lying next to his father.
“Do keep your head lower, father,” he said, as the Turks left the path
and bounded in among the rocks and shrubs and opened fire.
“But I can’t take aim if I don’t see, Horace.”
“No, father, that is right enough; but you might move a foot or two
back, so as to be in shelter while you are loading. Then, if you push
your rifle up before you, you would only have to raise your head to
look along the barrel and fire. Some of these mountain fellows are
good shots.”
The firing in front of them increased every moment as the Turks poured
down and took up their positions, until puffs of smoke seemed to dart
out from every bush and rock. Martyn now went along the line posting
the men. Horace’s party were left lying thickly opposite the path, in
case the Turks should attempt a rush. The rest were disposed two yards
apart, the sailors being placed at regular intervals among the Greeks.
Fortunately the ground fell sharp away from the flat, so that even
from the higher ground those lying behind it were completely
sheltered, except when raising their heads to fire. This, by Martyn’s
orders, they did but seldom.
“Let them blaze away as much as they like,” he said, “they do us no
harm. The great thing is to have every musket loaded in case they make
up their minds to try a rush, and I don’t think they will do that. The
more smoke they make the better, for it prevents them taking aim. We
can stop them here for hours, as long as they don’t work round our
flanks.”
Satisfied that all was going on well, Martyn returned to Mr.
Beveridge.
“We have stopped them for the time effectually, sir.”
“Yes, this is a capital position, Martyn.”
“Capital as far as it goes, sir. Of course if these fellows were
soldiers they would either gather and make a rush, or march away and
work round our flanks; but being only peasants, there is no one to
command, and every man fights for himself. Macfarlane is at work with
the wounded.”
“Did you lose many men in your retreat, Martyn?”
“No; three of the Greeks were killed and half a dozen of them were
wounded, fortunately not severely. Two of our own fellows were hit,
but neither of them badly. I have sent them and the Greeks on ahead to
join the women on the shore. Tarleton lost two Greeks, killed, and had
about as many wounded as I had. One poor fellow was so badly hit that
he could not keep up with the others on the retreat. Two of our men
tried to carry him; but it hurt him so much that he begged them to put
him down; and as soon as they did he drew his pistol and shot himself.
So, altogether, we have lost six, which is little enough, considering
we are more than half-way down to the shore.”
“If they do try to outflank us, I suppose we must fall back again?”
“Yes, if they succeed we must do so. Of course we shall try to prevent
it. Directly I see any signs of their trying it on, I shall make a
strong effort to drive them back; but I don’t think they will try it
at present, the sole object of each man seems to be to fire away his
ammunition as quickly as he can. I have just been giving orders to the
Greeks and our fellows to shove their caps up in front of them on the
ends of their ramrods, so as to encourage the Turks to keep on firing,
and to push a musket up and fire occasionally, without raising their
heads to take aim. The smoke hanging about along the line will hide
the trick of the caps, and the shots will keep the Turks blazing
away.”
For two hours the firing continued; but towards the end of that time
it slackened considerably.
“I expect a good many of them are running short of ammunition,” Martyn
said. “Now they have done firing they will have time to talk a bit,
and may arrange to march off somewhere, and come down between us and
the shore; so I think it is time for us to be making a move. I will go
along and tell every third man to fall back at once. I think, Mr.
Beveridge, it would be as well that you should go with them. I shall
send Tarleton in command, and tell him to pick out a spot, from a
hundred to three hundred yards from the shore, and place the men in
position there. Five minutes later you shall pick out every second
man, Horace, and go down and join them. We will keep up a more rapid
fire now, so that they sha’n’t have any idea we are falling back. Of
course, when you join Tarleton, you will take up your position with
him. I shall be down five minutes after you. When we are all there we
can form a semicircle, with the ends resting on the sea, and there
will be an end of this constant fear of being outflanked.”
Five minutes later Tarleton, with a third of the men, went off at the
double down the path. Those left behind renewed their fire, taking aim
among the rocks and bushes, and this at once provoked a fresh outburst
of firing on the part of the Turks. In a short time Martyn told Horace
to get his men together and be off, and in twenty minutes he joined
Tarleton, who had taken up his post at a little more than a hundred
yards from the shore. The men were slashing down bushes with their
cutlasses, and piling them and stones so as to make a low breastwork.
The party Horace had brought at once joined in the work.
“It is a screen we want more than a defence,” Tarleton said. “You see
we are commanded everywhere from the hill, but these bushes will hide
us, and they will only be able to fire into them at random; besides,
we want them cut down in front of us to be able to use our guns.”
They were soon joined by the rear-guard.
“The Turks must be some distance behind,” Martyn said. “We could hear
them blazing away when we were nearly half a mile on the road. That is
a good work, Mr. Tarleton; we shall get it finished by the time they
come.”
So strong a party made quick work of it, and in another quarter of an
hour the screen of bushes was completed down to the shore on either
side, the sweep being some three hundred yards in length, and the
breastwork in most places three feet high.
“It won’t keep out bullets,” Martyn said; “but from the distance they
won’t see how thin it is. At any rate it is a good screen.”
The whole of the Greeks and twenty of the sailors were placed at
intervals of about six feet apart behind the screen, and each man was
told to dig up the soil with a knife or cutlass in front of him, and
with that and a few rocks to make a protection for himself against
stray bullets. The other twenty sailors Martyn retained under his own
command to carry to the assistance of the defenders at any point
against which a serious attack might be made. Mr. Beveridge had gone
down at once to the women and children who were sitting under shelter
of the bank by the sea-shore, and cheered them by assurances that the
schooner would be sure to return some time during the night. It was
not until a quarter of an hour after the screen had been completed
that parties of Turks could be seen descending the side of the hill.
They did not seem to be hurrying.
“They think they have got us in a trap, Horace,” Tarleton said, “and
that they have only to wait a bit to starve us out. Perhaps it is just
as well the schooner made off, for it would have been hot work all
getting on board under their fire, whereas now we shall be able to
slip off in the dark almost without their knowing it.”
When the Turks approached to within a distance of three or four
hundred yards of the breastwork, the party with the rifles opened fire
upon them, and they at once fell back some little distance. For half
an hour nothing was done, and then a party of fifty or sixty men were
seen reascending the hill.
“They are going to make a siege of it,” Martyn said. “They don’t like
the look of this breastwork.”
“But what are they sending the men away for, Martyn?” Horace asked.
“Because it is just as necessary for them to eat and drink, Horace, as
it is for us. We have got our water-bottles and biscuits, and the
Greeks have all brought something with them; they were warned to do so
before they started. But those gentlemen all came off in a hurry. I
don’t expect any of them had breakfast, and in the excitement not one
in twenty is likely to have caught up as much as a gourd of water, so
I have no doubt those men you see going up the hill are on their way
to their villages for a supply of food and water, and perhaps to get
some more ammunition if they can find any. I will warrant half those
fellows in front of us have fired away their last shot. You will see
they won’t disturb us any more to-day.”
[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN IS WOUNDED]
A few shots only were fired from either side during the course of the
day, this apparently being done on the part of the Turks from pure
bravado, as they generally showed themselves conspicuously, brandished
their long guns over their heads, and shouted defiantly before firing.
One of them, however, having been shot by a sailor armed with a rifle,
the amusement ceased, and during the afternoon all was quiet. An
anxious look-out was kept seaward all day. At five in the afternoon
one of the sailors sang out, “Sail, ho!”
“Where away, Baldock?”
“About west-north-west I should say, sir, though I ain’t sure of my
bearings here.”
Martyn went up to where the man was standing on a rock that projected
eight or ten feet above the surrounding ground, a position which would
have been dangerous had not the Turks been almost out of range.
“There, sir, do you see just under that streak of white cloud? it is a
little black patch.”
“I see it, Baldock.”
“I believe it is the schooner’s gaff top-sail, sir; it is too narrow
for a square sail.”
“I think you are right, Baldock. It might be the peak of one of the
native lateen sails, but I think it is too far away for that. It is
about the direction we might expect the schooner to come from. She was
more to the north-west when we saw her last, but to get round the
Turks she would have to bear either one way or the other, and if she
ran to the south that is just about where she would be on her way
back. Hullo! that was a near shave; we had better get off this,
Baldock.”
“Are you hit, sir?”
“Yes, but I don’t think it is of any consequence; it is in the arm,
but as I can move it all right, it is only through the flesh.”
Half a dozen guns had flashed out in reply to the shot, which had been
fired from a distance of less than a hundred yards, the man having
crept through the bushes unseen. Martyn’s coat was taken off and his
arm bandaged at once.
“It is rather foolish to expose yourself like that, Captain Martyn,”
Mr. Beveridge said as he came up. “Your life is too valuable to us all
to be risked in that way.”
“It was rather foolish,” Martyn laughed; “but I thought the fellows
were out of range, and did not give them credit for enterprise. Anyhow
there is no great harm done. I think we have made out the schooner,
sir, and it is worth getting a ball through one’s arm to know that she
is on her way back.”
“Do you feel sure it is her?”
“Well, I can say that it is not a square top-sail; that is certain,
and it must either be her gaff top-sail or the peak of a lateen sail
of one of these native craft; but I think it is the schooner. If it
is, we sha’n’t be long before we can make out her fore-top
gallant-sail. No native craft carries a lateen and anything like a
square sail.”
“If it is the schooner, how far is she off, do you think?”
“Five-and-twenty miles, I should say. There is not much breeze, but
that is all the better, for she will be slipping along now at least
two knots to the Turks’ one, while in a strong breeze she would not go
more than five to their four. It is five o’clock now, and though we
can’t feel any wind here, I expect she is making five or six knots an
hour. Anyhow she ought to be here between ten and twelve.”
A quarter of an hour later Baldock said: “May I take another squint
from the look-out, sir?”
“Yes, but don’t stand there long, Baldock. I expect that fellow has
moved off again if he was not hit by any of our shots. Still it is as
well not to give him another chance.”
Baldock stood on the rock shading his eyes from the light of the
western sun, which was now getting near the horizon. For a minute or
two he stood uncertain, and then said:
“It is the schooner, sir, sure enough. I can just make out a black
line below the sail; that must be her fore-top gallant-sail just
showing.”
A cheer broke from the sailors lying along the shelter of the screen
of bushes.
“That is good news, Baldock,” Martyn said. “Come down now; another
half-hour will settle it anyhow, and there will be light enough till
then.”
The next observation settled the question. It was certainly a square
sail underneath the sharp peak of a gaff top-sail. The joy of the
Greeks was extreme when they heard that the vessel that was to carry
them away was in sight.
“The schooner will be in a nice mess,” Martyn grumbled to Tarleton.
“With what there are on board now, and all these, there will be
something like six hundred of them; a nice cargo that.”
“There is one thing,” Horace laughed, “I expect she has carried as
many before.”
“Yes, I daresay she has taken six hundred slaves, but we can’t pack
these Greeks as they pack slaves. There will be no moving on board,
and as to fighting the guns if we fall in with a Turk, it will be
well-nigh impossible. Why, she will be as deep in the water as she was
when we sailed out of Plymouth. What is the weight of them all,
Horace, do you suppose?”
“Not very great, Captain Martyn. I don’t suppose there are a dozen of
the men weigh over ten stone. I suppose the women average seven, and
the children, counting babies, say four. As there are as many children
as there are men, that would make the average seven stone all round,
but even if you said eight stone, which is a hundredweight, and they
are certainly not that, or anything near it, that would make thirty
tons, and it won’t be over that if you throw in all the bundles. You
calculated that you got fifty tons out of her hold.”
“Oh, well, that is not so bad. If it comes on to blow we will make
shifting ballast of them, and pack them all up to windward on both
decks; that ought to make her as stiff as a church. It will be a big
job getting them all on board tonight. There is one thing, I don’t
suppose the Turks have made her out. Of course they don’t know that we
are expecting a vessel, or anything about her rig. We must make a
fire down on the shore as soon as it gets dark, and keep a sharp
look-out for her, putting the fire out as soon as she is near enough
for the light to begin to show on her sails. Then we will open fire
all along the line as if we thought we heard them creeping up towards
us, and that will cover the rattling of the anchor chain. I will hail
Miller to muffle the oars, and in that way we may manage to get most
of them on board at any rate before the Turks have an idea of what is
going on. By firing an occasional shot we shall keep their attention
fixed, and gradually withdraw from the line as we did from that place
we held up there.”