PLANNING A RESCUE
“Even Horace was obliged to admit, when he with Zaimes and their guide
had walked round the barracks, that he saw no chance whatever of being
able to get the prisoners out by force. The barracks consisted of an
old castle, a portion of which was, as the shoemaker told them, now
used as a military prison; and round this at some distance ran a
strong wall some fifteen feet high, loopholed for musketry. The troops
were lodged in huts between this wall and the castle.
“There you see,” the guide said, “what I said was true. You could not
get a bird out of that place, much less a man.”
“That is so,” Zaimes agreed. “Well, what cannot be done, cannot.
However, we will talk it over this evening at your house. Now let us
walk about and view the city. Truly it is a fine one.”
Few towns, indeed, have a finer situation than Adalia, standing as it
does at the head of a noble bay, a great portion of which is fringed
with lofty and precipitous cliffs. The town, which at that time
contained some ten thousand inhabitants, stands on ground sloping
upwards from the sea in terraces rising one above another. It was
surrounded by a ditch and a double wall of massive construction, with
square towers every fifty yards. Beyond the walls stretched gardens
and groves of orange, lemon, and mulberry trees. Ten mosques with
their domes and minarets reared themselves above the houses, and there
were several churches belonging to the Christian population, which
was, the guide told them, about two thousand in number, the great
proportion of whom spoke only the Turkish language. “I can talk
equally well in both, for it is but fifty years since my father
settled here, and we always talked Greek in the family as long as he
lived. Now I always speak Turkish; it is safer, and does not remind
the Turks continually that we are of Greek race.”
“Where does the pasha reside?” Horace asked presently.
“I will show you his place; it is at the lower corner of the north
wall. His gardens stretch down to the wall by the water, and another
high wall on this side separates them from the town.”
Passing through several streets they arrived opposite the residence of
the pasha of the sanjak of Tekeh, of which Adalia is the chief town.
The residence itself stood at the angle of the two walls dividing the
garden from the town. It was a massive building. Some soldiers sat on
benches at either side of the gate that opened into the court-yard,
and townspeople and officials passed in and out.
“The public offices are in the court-yard,” the guide said. “The
pasha’s private dwelling and his harem lie behind it.”
“I suppose we can walk in?”
“Certainly,” the guide said; and they passed through the gates into
the court-yard. On one side was a guard-room, stables, and other
offices; on the other were the rooms of the secretaries and officials
and that in which the pasha transacted business and received visitors.
The portion of the house facing the gates was blank on the basement
story, except that a door faced the gateway. Above were a line of
windows, all closed with jalousies. “That is the dwelling-house,”
their guide said. “I believe all the apartments of the family face the
garden. Those windows you see there are only those of the apartments
of the servants and slaves.”
After leaving the pasha’s they walked down to the bottom of the town,
where two gates with strong flanking powers opened upon the port,
which was smaller than Horace had expected to find it. However, he was
glad to see that there were several craft anchored in the roadstead,
some near the port, some at a distance, showing that vessels did not
come in unless for shelter in bad weather or to discharge heavy
cargoes. Whatever the craft, then, in which the crew of the schooner
might arrive, it would not attract attention by anchoring outside the
port, as arranged. They returned with their guide to his house and had
a meal there. Zaimes was profoundly discouraged. He saw no prospect
whatever of rescuing his brother or the other prisoners, and the
strength of the walls and the guns that were mounted upon them--a step
which, the host told him, had been taken a few months before to defend
the town against the Greek fleet, should it make its appearance
there--showed that there was no prospect of the Turks being alarmed by
the appearance or threats of a craft like the schooner.
“It seems altogether hopeless,” Zaimes said to the Greek.
The latter shook his head, “I can see no possible way,” he replied.
“If it had been an ordinary prisoner in the jail it could be managed
without difficulty. I could have got one of our countrymen of some
influence to have approached the prison officers, or I myself could
have worked with the warders; a small sum of money would have done it.
But now it seems to me hopeless, and even if we stop the messenger and
gain another eight days while the pasha sends again to Smyrna, we
should only run some risk and gain nothing.”
Zaimes assented mournfully.
“You had better make the man a present, Zaimes,” Horace said when they
were alone for a minute after the meal was finished. “Tell him that it
seems to us to be hopeless, and that we shall probably go right away;
but that if, thinking it over, we can hit upon any possible plan we
will be back again this evening and sleep here.”
Zaimes carried out the suggestion, gave their host a gold coin, and
said that they saw no use in staying longer, but would think it over
in every way and might return that evening.
“If you go outside the town you must be back by sunset,” the man said;
“the gates are closed at that hour.”
“We will not forget, but I do not think you will see us again.”
“Even if our people don’t arrive this evening, Zaimes, I think it will
be just as well not to go back into the town,” Horace said as they
issued out through the gates into the country. “I don’t say for a
moment that the man is not honest, but it is just as well not to put
temptation in his way. He knows that we are friends of the prisoners,
and he, no doubt, guesses that we belong to the craft that captured
the polacca that was wrecked. No doubt he would not openly betray us;
that would bring him into discredit with all the Christians in the
town. But a few words whispered to some Turk, and an agreement to
share any reward that may be given for our capture, would answer the
purpose just as well. I don’t say he would do it, you know, but it
would be just as well not to run the risk.”
On issuing from the gate, Horace saw that there was a narrow road
running between a deep dry ditch at the foot of the city walls and the
outlying gardens and orchards.
“This will be our shortest way down to the water, Zaimes, let us
follow it.”
The Greek turned without question. When they had gone half-way down
between the gate and the bottom of the hill, Horace stopped. “Now, let
us have a good look at this place. On the other side of that wall is
the garden of the pasha’s house. I counted the number of steps up from
the house to the cross-road leading to the gateway, and I have counted
them coming down again; we are about fifty yards below the upper wall
of the garden.”
“I daresay it is so,” Zaimes replied listlessly.
“This ditch is about ten feet deep, and from the bottom of the ditch
to the top of that first wall is from five-and-twenty to thirty;
between that wall and the higher one inside it is about fifteen feet;
and the inner wall is about fifteen feet higher than the outer one;
those square towers form junctions between the two walls. Now, we may
be quite sure that there are no sentries either on the wall or on the
square towers. I don’t suppose there are sentries anywhere except in
the batteries on the water-face, but there certainly won’t be here,
for they would command a view down into the pasha’s garden; so we may
quite conclude that except for the trouble of scaling the walls there
is nothing to prevent our getting over. A couple of rope-ladders and
one or two twenty-foot planks with bits nailed across them to give a
foothold would take us on to the inner wall; then we should need
another long ladder to get down into the garden. That would be about
thirty-five feet, I should say.”
“Yes, I see all that,” Zaimes, whose face had again become animated as
he listened, agreed; “but what would be the good of getting into the
pasha’s garden?”
“No good at all, if we were by ourselves, Zaimes, but with Martyn and
twenty men from the schooner a good deal of good, I should say. We
have only got to make a sudden rush into the house, which will, of
course, be open to the garden, seize the pasha, and carry him and some
of his wives and children off to the craft that our fellows come in,
and then on to the schooner. Then we can send ashore to say that
unless the prisoners are sent off in a boat to us by twelve o’clock in
the day we shall hang the pasha. Maybe when we get hold of the pasha
there will be no occasion to carry him and his women off; the mere
threat of it might be enough. We can tell him that it will be painful
to us to have to hoist them up to the top of the wall in sacks, but
that we shall be obliged to do it unless he signs an order for the
prisoners’ release, and sends it off at once by an officer to the
jail. A handsome bribe that will enable him to make his peace with his
superior at Smyrna may help to quicken his perception.”
Zaimes seized Horace’s hand with fervour, shook it wildly, clasped his
hands on his breast, raised them to heaven, and poured forth a stream
of exclamations of delight. The quiet habits of many years had been
thrown to the winds in a moment, and the excitable Greek nature burst
through all restraints. “You have given me new life,” he exclaimed as
soon as he had calmed down a little. “Just now there did not seem even
a shadow of hope. Now there is a chance that once again I may clasp my
brother in my arms. Your plan is difficult, it is dangerous, and yet
we may succeed. It is a desperate undertaking, but what is that? I
would give my life for my brother, and your sailors would all risk
theirs for their comrades.”
“Let us sit down here quietly for a few minutes, Zaimes, and take a
good look at these walls. It is evident by the look of this road that
it is very little used, and even if anyone did come up they would only
think that we had been working in the orange groves behind us and were
taking a quiet smoke. It is lucky that there is a moon to-night; it
would be an awfully difficult job to get over those walls and into a
place we know nothing of if it were a dark night. There will be no
difficulty in throwing up a grapnel and getting on to the first wall.
The greatest difficulty will be in crossing from that one to the one
behind it. Of course with a regular gangway it would be easy enough,
but we should not be able to get materials for making one. However,
with a couple of stout spars put up a foot apart with ropes between
them a foot from each other so as to make ratlings, we could get up,
though it wouldn’t be a very easy job passing women down. Still, I
hope it won’t come to that. I should think if we capture the pasha and
his children, if he has any--and I suppose with half-a-dozen wives he
will be sure to have some--we might leave the women alone, though, of
course, we should threaten to take them. But I’ll tell you what we
shall want, and that is a man who can speak Turkish well, so as to
explain exactly to the pasha the fix he is in.”
“Yes, we shall want such a man,” Zaimes agreed.
“Very well, Zaimes, then I think you had better go back to our friend
at once. Even if he did mean treachery, he would have taken no steps
yet, as he won’t expect us back till the evening if we come at all.
Tell him that you want a service of him in which he will run no
personal danger--for you know we can dress him up in some of our
things, and put a bit of black cloth as a mask half over his face--and
that he will be paid twenty pieces of gold for a night’s work. That
will be a fortune to him.”
“That will be the best plan,” Zaimes said. “Where shall we meet you?”
“I will go down the hill to the bottom to see what sort of a road
there is along the sea, and I will wait there for you. If the road is
exposed to the view of the sentries on the batteries at the sea wall
we must make our way through the orchards to this point; if not, we
will move along there.”
“Do you think that Captain Martyn is sure to be here this evening?”
“He is quite certain to be. He knows that every hour is of importance,
and he will get hold of some craft or other early this morning even if
he has to go into a fishing port to get it.”
Zaimes retraced his steps up the hill, while Horace sauntered down
until he came out on to the road leading to the port along the shore.
A good many small houses were scattered along by its side, and some
fishing-boats drawn up on the beach. At the angle of the wall there
was a battery. Three guns pointed along the road and the Turkish
sentry was leaning against the parapet by the side of them.
“We shall have to make our way through the orchards,” he said to
himself. “There will be no getting along this road with the moon up.
The sentry would notice us a quarter of a mile away. Besides, the
tramp of so many feet would be certain to bring people to their doors.
And we must come early if we can, so as to catch the pasha before he
goes to bed.”
In half an hour Zaimes and the cobbler came up.
“It is agreed,” the former said in English; “twenty pounds will make
him what he considers rich, and he declares he is ready to run any
risk for a single night’s work in order to gain it. I think he is an
honest fellow. I watched him closely when I went in, and if he had any
thought whatever of betraying us, I think I should have seen it in his
face.”
It was now four o’clock in the afternoon, and they soon made out a
small brigantine anchored a quarter of a mile out, and about a mile
and a half along the shore.
“I expect that is her,” Horace said. “She has only just come in, for
there are some men upon the yards stowing away the sails, and that is
just the position we agreed she should take up.”
When they had gone a mile farther they could see that she had small
red and white flags at her mast-head. When they got opposite to her
they went down to the water’s edge. Horace waved a white handkerchief
for a moment and then sat down. A minute later the boat towing behind
the brigantine was hauled up. Two men got into her and rowed leisurely
to the shore. They were dressed as Turkish sailors, but Horace
recognized them as they came close as two of the crew. They stepped
in at once, and the boat rowed out again.
“Have you any news of Mr. Miller and the others, Mr. Horace,” one of
them said, “if I might make so bold as to ask?”
“Certainly you may. They are in prison, and there is no possibility of
getting them out with the strength we have got; it would need three or
four hundred men at least. But we have another plan, which we hope
will be successful.”
“You will find the captain down in the cabin with your father, Mr.
Horace. Everyone is keeping below except three or four of our chaps,
who are got up, like us, in the clothes of the crew of the craft.”
“Come along, Zaimes,” Horace said as he stepped on board. “You had
better come with me. This man is going to help us, Davidson, so make
him as comfortable as you can till Zaimes comes out again.”
Horace found his father, Martyn, and the doctor in the little cabin.
He was heartily welcomed back, and eagerly questioned as to his news.
He first told them of the impossibility of doing anything to effect
the rescue of the prisoners, guarded as they were; and then explained
the position of the pasha’s house and garden, and his own plan.
“Well, it is a bold scheme, Horace, but I should think it might
succeed,” Martyn said when he concluded. “We ought certainly to be
able to get hold of the pasha before an alarm is given, and if we do
we might manage to make terms with him without the women knowing
anything about it. That would be a great point, if it could be
managed, for if they begin screaming they will bring the whole town
upon us. You say there is one door from that part of the house into
the court-yard on the other side, and of course there is a
communication from the public rooms into the house. The first thing to
do when we get in will be to post a couple of men at each of these
doors to prevent anyone from running out and giving them the alarm.
After that we can tackle the pasha quietly. As you say, though we may
threaten, there would be no getting women up over those walls; they
would have to be slung up like bales, and if the alarm were given we
should have the town upon us before we had half finished the job. We
could bundle the pasha off, tied up if he would not walk, and take a
dozen children if there are as many, for the sailors could carry them
if they were small; if not, they could be gagged and made to walk with
a pistol at their heads; but with women, and especially Turkish women,
it would be an awful business. Many of them are fat, and some of them
I suppose would faint. If we can get the pasha himself and some of his
children that will be enough; but as you say, I expect he will give in
when he finds himself in our hands, and we tell him that we are going
to carry him and his whole family off. Your idea of a bribe in
addition is a very good one. Of course, as you say, if we were sure
the men at Smyrna would send an order for them to be sent to him, we
should be all right, for we could attack their guard at some lonely
spot along the road; but the betting is ten to one that he orders them
to be hung at once, and if the pasha here writes in return describing
how he has been obliged to give them up, and sending a handsome
present, he will hear nothing more about it. What time do you think we
had better start, Horace?”
“About nine o’clock, I should say. It will take us a good hour getting
from here and scaling the walls. It is not likely the pasha will be
turning in before eleven, but it is as well to give a good margin.”
“I should recommend you not to go, Mr. Beveridge,” Martyn said. “You
are not accustomed to climb rope-ladders. It is a job that is only fit
for sailors.”
“I do not think I should be of much use,” Mr. Beveridge replied. “If I
did, I would go gladly; but after the hindrance I was to you all at
Cyprus, I will take your advice and stay here.”
“I will leave a couple of men with you.”
“No, Captain Martyn, you may want every man. Zaimes will remain with
me. If you were going to attack the prison no doubt he would wish to
be there and help to rescue his brother; but as it is, someone must
stay here as we have eight prisoners down in the hold, and as he is no
more accustomed to climbing ropes than I am, it is better that he
should remain here.”
“Very well, sir, then I will see about getting the things we shall
want made.”
The crew were at once set to work to prepare the ladders.
“We had better not make regular rope-ladders,” Martyn said. “They are
well enough for us; but if we have to get people over the wall, we had
better put in wooden rungs.”
Accordingly some spare oars were sawn up into lengths, and with these
and four ropes, two ladders each forty feet long were manufactured.
Then two spars twenty-five feet long were chosen. Cross-pieces were
nailed to these a foot apart, and a long piece of canvas was nailed
under this gangway, so that, as Martyn said, if any of the captives
made a false step in going across it, they would not fall through. A
single block was fastened to a grapnel, and a long rope attached for
getting up the ladder to the top of the first wall. All this was but
an hour’s work for twenty men. The doctor had been asked whether he
would prefer staying on board or going with the party. He decided upon
staying.
“If you were going to fight I would certainly go with you, Martyn; but
I am no more accustomed to climbing up ropes than Mr. Beveridge is,
and I should only be in your way, so I will stay with him and Zaimes
and keep watch on board.”
“I think that is the best plan, doctor. It is sailors’ work. We shall
have trouble as it is in hoisting that fellow Horace brought on board
over the walls.”
The cobbler had turned pale with fright when Zaimes explained to him
that they were going to take the pasha a prisoner, and that he would
be wanted to interpret to him, and he protested that nothing could
tempt him to undertake such a business.
“Nonsense, man!” Zaimes said. “You will run no more risks than the
others. Look at them laughing and joking. They don’t look like men who
are about to embark on a perilous expedition. However, I promised you
twenty pounds, but if you do your work well and speak out boldly and
firmly what you are told, you shall have another five.”
“It is a big sum for a poor man,” the cobbler replied. “I will do it,
but I won’t answer for speaking out loud and bold; my teeth chatter at
the very thought of it. If he should ever recognize me again, he would
chop me up into mince meat.”
“How can he recognize you? You can either fasten a piece of black
cloth over your face, or what will do just as well, get a cork and
burn it, and rub it over your face till you are as black as coal. Your
own brother wouldn’t know you then, and the pasha will have enough to
think about without staring at you.”
“I like that better than the cloth,” the man said. “If there is a
scuffle the black cloth may come off.”
“We will rig you up in the clothes of one of the sailors here. You can
put them on over your own if you like, and then you will have nothing
to do but to throw them away, wash your face, and walk boldly into the
town in the morning.”
The brigantine had two boats. These were, as soon as it became dark,
lowered, and a quarter before nine the landing party mustered. The men
had already torn up some blankets and old sail-cloth, and wrapped them
round their cutlasses and muskets so as to deaden the sound should
these strike against the wall. The guns were not loaded, but each man
carried thirty rounds of ammunition and a brace of pistols, which were
to be loaded as soon as they got down into the garden, Martyn,
however, giving the strictest orders that whatever happened not a shot
was to be fired without his permission.
“I do not think it is likely that we shall meet with any resistance,
lads,” he said before they stepped down into the boats. “If there is,
knock them down with your fists; or if there is anything serious, use
your cutlasses. Mr. Horace will place the four men told off for the
doors, at their posts. These will follow him through the house
regardless of anything that is going on around. Everything depends
upon our preventing anyone from leaving the house and giving the
alarm. I shall myself post men at all the lower windows before we
enter. Their duty will be to prevent anyone from coming out into the
garden. If there is yelling or shrieking in the garden it will alarm
the town. As long as they only shriek in the house there is no fear of
its being heard. Now you each know what you have got to do. As to
scaling the wall, this must be done as quietly as if you were making
sail on board a smart frigate.”