A WHITE SQUALL
All hands were called at five o’clock, when daylight was beginning to
break in the east; the anchor was got up, sail set, and the decks
washed down, the usual scrubbing being for once omitted in order to
avoid disturbing their passengers.
“What are we going to do about feeding them, Miller?” Horace asked.
“It was all very well for the people we had on board before to get
their meals anyhow they could, but these have been accustomed to
wealth and luxury, and, as the leading merchants of Chios, were people
of importance.”
“Your father and the two Greeks were talking it over yesterday
evening before you landed, Horace. Of course it is out of the question
that they could all take their meals in the cabin, which your father
at first proposed to give up to them. Marco suggested that a table
should be rigged on the quarterdeck. We reckoned that there would be
about fifty grown up or nearly so, that was allowing five for each
family. Of course the children would have their meals with their
nurses below.”
“That would certainly be the pleasantest way, Miller. There is plenty
of room for two tables, and as far as length goes twelve or fourteen
could sit on each side easily enough without the tables extending
forward of the mainmast. I see Tarleton is getting the awning rigged
up already. But the tables will want to be cleared away after each
meal, or there will be no room for anything.”
“Oh, yes, five minutes will be enough for that. The men will bring up
all their mess tables, they can be rigged and unshipped in no time.
The order is that the men are all to get into their white ducks at
eight bells, as your father means to show these Greeks what an English
yacht is. Your men have rigged up another stove in their cooking
place, and have borrowed a couple of the sailors, I suppose to wash
and cut up vegetables, and to act as kitchen-maids.”
At seven o’clock the Chiots began to come up. Mr. Beveridge was
already on deck, and requested Horace to assist him to set them at
their ease. The men were all of the best Greek type, courtly and
gentle in manner, with refined faces. The older women were all more or
less inclined to corpulence, while some of the young ones fully
deserved the terms of praise in which Mr. Beveridge had spoken of them
the evening before. At first they looked timid at finding themselves
in scenes so strange to them, but they were soon chattering and
laughing with each other. They were immensely astonished at the
exquisite neatness and cleanliness of the vessel and her fittings.
“Are all English ships as white and clean as this?” one of them
asked.
“All ships of war and yachts. A yacht is a vessel kept by a gentleman
simply for his own amusement and not for trade. This is a yacht,
though we have mounted guns, and have come out prepared to fight.”
“It would be a great pity to fight and spoil everything,” the girl
said.
“Oh, we can fight without spoiling everything; though of course
sometimes a shot may knock things about a bit, the damage would soon
be repaired.”
“But you can’t have been fighting yet,” one of the younger men said,
looking round.
“We have only had one fight, and that was when most of us were ashore.
That officer, whom you see there, was on board, and he only had ten
men with him; but for all that he engaged two Turkish frigates, and
destroyed one of them.”
There was an exclamation of astonishment, mingled with a little
incredulity, from the group round Horace, some of whom thought he was
trying to make fun of them.
“I can assure you that it is a fact,” Horace said. “He first crippled
her, and then set her on fire by firing red-hot balls into her.”
“Was that near Cyprus?” one of the young men asked.
“Yes; the rest of us were on shore there, and we brought off five
hundred Christians from a village that was besieged by the Turks.”
“Yes, that is true,” the young fellow said. “I was told about it by
one of the officers who lodged in our house. He said it was wonderful,
and so it was; and the men you have here all look so quiet too.”
“They are on their best behaviour now,” Horace laughed; “but they are
all picked men, and have all served in British men-of-war.”
As eight bells rang out a party of sailors came along to the
quarter-deck, bringing with them half a dozen mess tables, which they
arranged together, according to the direction of Zaimes.
“But these are nothing like enough, Zaimes,” Horace said, going over
to him.
“We are not going to sit down, Mr. Horace. We shall have two
meals--one at eleven and one at six. We shall put things on the table
now, and let them eat standing.”
The cloth was soon spread, and upon it were placed fruit, bread and
butter, and eggs, a great tureen filled with coffee, and another with
hot milk; the whole of the cabin tea and coffee cups, and a score of
the men’s mugs.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Beveridge said, “you must help
yourselves. I am sorry to say that our breakfast service is quite
insufficient for our needs, and that the gentlemen will have to put up
with the sailors’ mugs.”
Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal; the women sat about on the deck in
little groups, and the men waited upon them, the three officers making
themselves very busy in this work.
“It is disgusting, Horace,” Miller said, “to hear you jabbering away
with these girls, while we poor beggars can’t say a word to them.”
“But you speak a little Italian, don’t you, Miller?”
“Yes, I picked up a little when I was on the Mediterranean station.”
“Oh well, a little will go a long way sometimes, Miller, and some of
them are sure to know something of Italian. I will soon find out which
they are, and introduce them specially to you.”
Five or six of the girls knew a little Italian, and most of the young
men could speak it, Italian being the general language of commerce in
the Mediterranean, and Miller was soon engaged in conversation with
some of them. Martyn had broken the ice for himself with a mixture of
French and Italian; but Tarleton, who knew no language but his own,
kept away from the quarter-deck.
“What’s the odds,” he said, when Horace tried to induce him to go aft.
“If they were going to be on board for a year, I would try to get hold
of a few Greek words, and do what I could; but as it is, it is not
worth while bothering one’s self. It is no use my trying to make
myself agreeable to girls when I haven’t a word to say to them. On the
whole I am rather glad I can’t talk, to them. I never had any practice
at that sort of thing; and if I ever do fall in love, I hope it will
be with an Englishwoman. Look at Miller there,” he laughed, “jawing
away with five or six girls at once, and I don’t believe one of them
has the least idea of what he is saying, though they all try to look
interested.”
“They understand he is trying to make himself agreeable, Tarleton, and
I have no doubt they are grateful and pleased. I daresay some of them
don’t understand any more Italian than he does. Still they are just as
much amused, if not more, as if they understood him perfectly.”
After the meal was over some chairs and benches were brought up, but
the ladies all preferred sitting on the deck, and were much pleased
when a number of the men’s hammocks were brought up, unrolled, and
laid down for them to sit upon. Mr. Beveridge chatted with the
merchants, the younger men smoked and lounged about, Martyn and Miller
and Horace devoting themselves to the ladies, until eleven o’clock,
when two long tables were set. Zaimes arranged them tastefully with
flowers and silver, and a very excellent meal was served. After the
meal was finished, and the decks cleared, the men were exercised at
cutlass drill and in getting down and setting the sails, and the
Chiots were astonished at their discipline and activity.
“I have seen vessels get up sail at Chios hundreds of times,” one of
the young men said to Horace, “and everyone shouts and bustles about;
but with all the noise they take five or six times as long to get them
up as your men do, and, except when the officer gives orders, there is
no more sound than there would be if they were all dumb.”
“Captain Martyn says that he will have gun drill to-morrow,” Horace
said, “and you will see that they are just as quiet at their work then
as now. You see the three officers have all served in our navy as
well as the men, and we have just the same discipline as there would
be in a king’s ship.”
“One would scarcely think,” Horace remarked to his father that evening
as they were standing together looking at the groups scattered about
the deck, “that these people were fugitives who have just left their
native land, probably for life.”
“I don’t think they quite realize that at present, Horace. One or two
of the men have been telling me what anxiety they have suffered at
Chios since the revolution broke out. When the news came of some of
the massacres of the Greeks, they were in constant fear of a
retaliation upon them by the Mussulmans, and they made sure that
sooner or later, if the war went on, Chios would become involved in
it. Of course they did not suppose that such a mad-brained expedition
as that of Lykourgos would be undertaken, but supposed that a
sufficient force would be sent to ensure the capture of the island,
accompanied by a fleet that would protect it from that of the Turks;
but even that was greatly dreaded by them.
“They knew that the Turkish provinces governed by Greek officials were
much more heavily taxed and oppressed than those in which the Turks
collected the taxation, and knew that the change would be, for them,
very much for the worse. Except that they have the same religion, they
have little in common with the Greeks in the mainland, and dreaded the
thought of the Albanians, who would be sure to send over armed bands,
who would harass and oppress them. Of course they have been for
centuries under Turkish rule, and the island has certainly flourished
exceedingly under it. Their trade has been almost entirely with
Constantinople, and all their connections are Turkish. I can quite
understand, therefore, their repugnance to a change which would ruin
their trade and vastly increase their burdens; while, as to masters, I
should imagine that no one in their senses could prefer Albanians to
Turks.
“Seeing the storm coming, most of the wealthy Chiots have prepared in
some way for it by sending much of their available capital, for
safety, to correspondents abroad, or by investing in foreign
securities. I believe that all these merchants have done so; and as
the greater part of their money and valuables that remained are at
present down in the hold, they will be able to live, if not in as
great luxury as before, at any rate in comfort at Corfu, or wherever
they may settle themselves; while several of them have told me that
they intend again to embark in trade, and, if possible, under our
flag. They have been asking me a good many questions about ourselves,
and don’t seem at all able to comprehend the interest that the Greek
revolution has created in Europe; still less that an Englishman like
myself, who could live comfortably at home, should come out here to
take part in a struggle that in no way concerns him.”
“What did you answer, father?” Horace asked with a slight smile.
“I told them that I was but half an Englishman, and that my mother was
Greek, and that I was devoted to the study of the language and customs
of the ancients.”
“I suppose they knew nothing about the ancients, father?”
“No,” Mr. Beveridge admitted reluctantly. “They had heard of the name
of Homer, and had a vague sort of knowledge of the early history of
Greece--about as vague as the ordinary Englishman has of King Arthur
and the Knights of the Round Table. An English school-boy of twelve
knows more about ancient Greece than do nineteen Greeks out of twenty;
though, seeing the interest felt by civilized Europe in the matter, it
is the fashion among them now to pretend to feel great enthusiasm on
the subject. No; I am not surprised at these poor people being
cheerful, Horace. They have escaped the risk of a terrible fate; and
as to patriotism, it is a feeling of which people who have been under
foreign masters hundreds of years know absolutely nothing. They may
regret their easy, quiet life in Chios; but beyond that, I think they
have little feeling in the matter.”
The next morning, after breakfast, the sailors were exercised at the
guns, three rounds being fired from each piece. Scarcely were the men
dismissed from their quarters, and the guns secured, before the
boatswain went up to Martyn.
“I beg your pardon, captain, but look over there. Do you see that
white cloud?--how quick it rises. I know these seas, sir; and that is
a white squall, or I am a Dutchman. We sha’n’t have more than three or
four minutes before it is on us.”
“By Jove, you are right, Tom! All hands get off sail. Look smart, my
lads; there is a bit of a squall coming down on us. Down topsails; in
jibs. Miller, take six hands and get this awning off. Horace, get the
ladies below at once.”
As Martyn began to give his orders, Tarleton had run forward to see
them carried out; but Miller and Horace had continued their
conversation without paying much attention to them, believing that he
was only giving the orders as an exercise to the crew, and to show the
passengers how quickly they could get off sail. His sharp, decided
tone, however, soon showed them that he was in earnest. Horace looked
round almost bewildered, for there was scarcely a breath of wind; the
sky was a deep blue overhead. Miller’s experience in the
Mediterranean, however, told him which way to look.
“White squall, by Jove!” he muttered, as his eye fell on the cloud
that had attracted the boatswain’s attention. Springing forward he
called six of the men, and ran aft with them again. Horace, still in
ignorance of the reason for the order given him, at once proceeded to
carry it out.
Calling out in Greek, “Please go below at once, ladies;” and then to
the men, “Escort the ladies below as quickly as you can, please.”
Then, running forward, he shouted to the Greek servants, “All below,
all below! Take the children with you; you are in the way here. Hurry
down.”
His orders on the quarter-deck were more quickly obeyed than he had
expected, for the Chiots, accustomed to these sudden and tremendous
squalls of the Ægean, glancing round when they heard the order,
perceived the reason for it at once, and hurried the ladies below with
all speed.
With so strong a crew it took but a minute to lower the gaff topsail
from the mainmast and to get the foretop gallant sail and topsail down
on the caps, and almost before the halliards had been let go a dozen
men were aloft furling the sails. The foresail came down with a run,
and the jibs flew in from the bowsprit. Martyn himself saw to the
lowering of the mainsail.
“Belay there!” he called when it was half-way down. “Reef it down
fully, Mr. Tarleton,” as the young officer, with twenty men, sprang to
the reef-points. “Now haul on the reef-earing. That is it. Well
together, lads. Harden it down; that will do. Now a pull on the main
halliards; that is enough. Belay. Lower the peak a bit more; that will
do. Now we are ready for it. Boatswain!”
“Ay, ay, sir,” came from forward.
“Lower that fore-staysail down, and reef it fully.”
He looked to windward. A white bank of clouds extended half-way up the
sky, in front of which were white streamers blown out ahead of it. The
schooner had already been brought round with her head in the direction
of the wind, and an extra hand had been placed at the wheel.
“Starboard a little,” Martyn cried to the men at the wheel. “Slack off
the mainsheet a bit, Mr. Miller. I don’t want to be taken aback.”
A minute later a white line was seen approaching them on the water
with the speed of a race-horse, and then with a shriek the squall was
upon them. Stripped as the vessel was of all her canvas, save the
diminished fore-staysail, the mainsail being too far over to draw, she
lay down until the water poured in over the lee gunwale from the
pressure of wind on her masts and rigging. Her head payed off.
“Now haul on the mainsheet,” Martyn shouted to a dozen sailors who had
hold of it, and dragged it in hand over hand. As the sail fluttered in
her head again came up into the wind. “That will do. Belay there!
keep her at that, lads,” Martyn said, taking his place by the side of
the men at the helm. “Keep the staysail full, but nothing more.”
The schooner had now begun to move fast through the water as
close-hauled to the wind as her sails would stand. Though still
heeling over, her deck was now free of water, as that which she had
taken on board had rushed out through the port-holes.
“She will do nicely now,” Martyn said to his first lieutenant. “You
can get the peak up again, Mr. Miller; she will stand it now.”
The schooner was now retracing the course she had before been sailing
on.
“It is lucky it came when it did, Miller. Another couple of hours and
we should have been in the thick of the islands. As it is now, we have
clear water, and at any rate, if we are obliged to change our course,
we can run down south comparatively clear of everything. It is lucky
we saw it coming in time. It was the boatswain warned me. If we had
not got the sail off her we should have lost our spars, and perhaps
been dismasted, and with all these islands down to leeward we should
have been in an awkward fix.”
“Yes, indeed;” Miller agreed. “We are all right now. Of course we
shall get some sea soon, but these squalls don’t last many hours. It
is only the first blow that is to be feared.”
“Do you think, Miller, you could get that pivot-gun sent down below?
It is a big weight on deck, and when the sea gets up she will feel
it.”
“I think so, sir. There is no sea on yet to speak of.”
The gun was amidships, half-way between the fore and mainmasts, and
there was a hatchway just beyond the framework on which it travelled.
Calling the crew together, Miller got tackles on the mainmast, and
these with the blocks of the throat halliards of the foresail were
hooked on to strops round the gun. Ropes were attached to it and
manned to prevent it from swinging away to leeward when hoisted from
the carriage.
“Now all ready,” Miller said. “Hoist on the falls handsomely, inch by
inch. Stand fast to those stay-ropes; that is right. Now haul her aft.
Lower away a little forward and let her swing gradually aft; that does
it. Now she is over the hatchway. Lower away a little aft. Let her go
down, breech foremost; that will do. Now a dozen of you go down to the
main deck. You go down with them, Mr. Tarleton, and steer her clear
through the lower hatchway.”
Gradually the muzzle of the heavy gun sank below the deck, and in five
minutes it was safely stowed in the bottom of the hold. Then the
hatches were put on again and battened down securely, and Miller went
aft.
“That is a good job, Miller,” Martyn said. “The sea is getting up
fast, and in another five minutes it would not have been safe to do
it. It will make all the difference to us in such a short choppy sea
as we shall be having.”
For six hours the wind blew with unabated force. A heavy sea got up,
and, buoyant as she was, the schooner shipped water heavily over the
bow, the seas being too short to give her time to rise and fall
regularly over them. At the end of that time the wind fell almost as
suddenly as it had risen, and half an hour later the schooner was on
her course again, with all her lower sails set. It was not until
evening that the sea had gone down sufficiently for the passengers to
begin to make their appearance again on deck, looking worn out and
exhausted by sea-sickness.
By this time the schooner was among the islands, and was passing
through the Mykonos Channel, between the island of that name and
Tenos. Syra rose above the water almost ahead, while Rhenea and Delos
lay on her beam to the south. Her topsails were set now, and she was
running fast through the water, her course being laid to pass between
Seriphos and Siphnos, beyond which it was a straight course to Cape
Malea, at the southern point of the Morea. A sharp look-out was kept
at night for Anti-Melos on the one hand, and Falconera on the other.
The former was made out, the land being high; but Falconera, a mere
rock, was passed unobserved. In the morning the schooner was running
through the Cervi Channel, between Cythera and Cervi, which island
almost touches the mainland. A quiet night’s rest had completely
restored the passengers, who came on deck early, and watched with
interest the rocky shore of the Morea as they coasted along it.
Three days later the _Misericordia_ dropped her anchor in the harbour
of Corfu.
Mr. Beveridge was again overwhelmed with thanks by the grateful
Chiots. Upon the way they had inquired of him if he had a wife or
daughters, and were quite disappointed at hearing that he had no near
female relatives, as they had intended to send a consignment of choice
stuffs and embroideries to them in token of their gratitude. Before
landing they handed to Martyn a hundred pounds to be divided among the
crew, and on the day after landing sent off a very handsome case of
pistols to each of the officers. As their goods were being got up from
the hold they pointed out four barrels which were to remain behind.
“We brought them off specially for you, Mr. Beveridge,” they said.
“They are the very choicest vintage of Chios, and we do hope that
though you have refused to accept any substantial proof of our
gratitude, you will not refuse to take these.”
The decks of the _Misericordia_ seemed curiously still and deserted
after the departure of their guests. It had been a very pleasant week
while the Chiots had been on board, and Martyn and Miller both looked
out of spirits, having temporarily lost their hearts to two of the
Greek girls.
“We have the best of it now,” Tarleton laughed to the doctor. “What is
the use of a week’s flirtation? Look at the parting at the end of it.
The girls were pretty enough, no doubt; but what good would it be to
take home a wife who did not speak your language, who was ignorant of
English ways, and would be miserable in our climate, besides being of
a different religion. I think it is just as well that the voyage was
not longer; as it is, they will soon get over it.”
The captain and first officer had indeed but little time to think over
it, for on the evening of the day after their arrival sail was again
set on the schooner, and she started on her return to Chios, where, as
Mr. Beveridge said, they were likely to find plenty more opportunities
for doing good. The wind held steady, and they made a quick passage.
Scarcely had they dropped anchor when a boat came off to them bearing
an angry message from Lykourgos.
“You have assisted deserters to escape from the island,” he said, “and
if any of you set foot on shore you will at once be arrested.”
They learned shortly afterwards from a boat that came alongside to
sell fish that many of the richer inhabitants had been arrested and
very heavily fined upon the accusation that they also intended to
desert, and that all who had property had been compelled to pay
considerable sums for protection against the excesses of the troops
who had come, as they pretended, to deliver them. The officers were
furious at the message from Lykourgos, and proposed going ashore with
a strong party of armed sailors. Mr. Beveridge, however, decided that
no steps should be taken for a day or two.
“We don’t want to become actually embroiled with these people unless
it is necessary,” he said. “The Turkish fleet is expected here every
day now, and Lykourgos and his crew will, we may be sure, take flight
as soon as they appear, and we shall then have plenty of scope for our
work. At any rate we will wait two or three days and see how matters
turn up. If necessary we can then do as you propose, seize half a
dozen of the ships, and tell the rest we will sink them if they don’t
put to sea; that will bring the fellow to his senses at once. I don’t
want to do it if I can help it, because we should afterwards be liable
to attack at any of the islands we might happen to put into.”
A few hours later a fast Greek felucca came up and anchored between
the schooner and the other vessels. A boat was lowered and rowed at
once towards the transports.
“I fancy that fellow must have brought some news,” Martyn said.
“Horace, will you go on board of him and find out where he comes from,
and whether he has heard anything of the Turkish fleet?”
In ten minutes Horace reported:
“The Turks are only a few miles from the north of the island. The
felucca has been watching them for the last week. They have been
taking troops on board at all the ports on the mainland as they came
down.”
Already the fleet had diminished by at least two-thirds since
Lykourgos landed; but a small proportion of the plunder had fallen to
the sailors, and as it was for this alone that the craft had taken
part in the expedition, the greater portion soon became discontented
and sailed away. As the Turkish fleet approached the island, a Turkish
sloop, which had gone on ahead to ascertain the position of the
Greeks, ran ashore and fell into the hands of the Greeks, who at once
put to death every soul on board--the fate that had befallen every
prisoner they had taken. Having thus done their utmost to exasperate
the Turks, and to imperil the safety of the Christian inhabitants of
the island, the Greeks made no effort to oppose the landing of the
Mussulmans, but retired precipitately on their approach, and the Turks
entered Chios, plundering the town of everything that had escaped the
bands of Lykourgos, the irregulars who formed part of the army
murdering every Christian they met.
Lykourgos had retreated to the village of St. George, whence, after a
feeble attempt at defence, he escaped with his followers on board some
Psarian ships that had, fortunately for him, arrived. These islanders
had strongly opposed the expedition to Chios, and had taken no part in
it, fearing to bring down the Turkish fleet upon themselves, as Psara
lay but a short distance north of Chios. They maintained their fleet
in port to aid in its defence should the Turks attack them. As soon,
however, as they saw the Turkish fleet sail past Psara on its way to
Chios they at once put to sea with the intention of harassing the
Turks and rendering some assistance to the Christians.
The vengeance of the Turks now fell upon the unfortunate Chiots, who
had been perfectly innocent of all share in the proceedings of
Lykourgos, and who had already suffered so heavily at the hands of him
and his robber bands. In the city the wealthier class generally
succeeded in purchasing the protection of Turks in authority by paying
large sums of money, but the rest were either slaughtered or seized to
be sold into slavery. Three thousand Chiots, mostly the peasantry that
had come down from the hills, retired to the monastery of Aghios
Minas, five miles south of the city. The Turks surrounded them and
summoned them to surrender. They refused to surrender, and the
building was carried by storm, and all within it put to death. Two
thousand persons were similarly slain at the capture of the monastery
of Nea Mone; most of them were put to death by the sword, and the rest
perished in the conflagration of the monastery.
Kara Ali, the capitan-pasha, did all in his power to save the island
from being laid waste, knowing that the loss of the revenue derived
from the island would greatly vex the sultan and his seraglio, to whom
this revenue was specially appropriated. The regular troops were kept
fairly in order, but the Bashi-Bazouks, that is the volunteers who had
flocked to his standard, scattered over the island, plundering and
slaying, but more especially carrying off women and children for sale
in the slave-markets. The sultan, determined to strike terror into the
hearts of the Greeks of the island, executed at Constantinople some
Chiot hostages that had been sent there, and ordered the archbishop
and seventy-five other Chiots to be executed by the capitan-pasha.
During the whole time Lykourgos had been there the vessels from Psara
they had been carrying off the Chiots from small ports and quiet bays
round the island, and it was estimated that some fifteen thousand had
been taken off in this way either before the arrival of the Turks or
during the continuance of the massacres by them. The work was carried
on with great vigour by the Psarians who reaped a rich harvest from
their operations, demanding and receiving all the valuables of the
unfortunate fugitives as the price for their passage to another
island. Thus large numbers of wealthy Chiots were reduced to the most
abject poverty by the avarice and extortion of those who professed to
save them.
The _Misericordia_ was very busy during the three weeks that followed
the Turkish re-occupation of the island. Cruising round and round she
carried off large numbers of fugitives, conveying them across to the
nearest Greek islands. After making three such trips, and carrying
over some twelve hundred fugitives, she left the work of rescue to the
Psarians, and took up her station between the island and the mainland
to cut off the craft that were, as they learned, conveying the women
and children to the slave-markets of Smyrna. As speed was here of the
greatest utility, vessel after vessel was overhauled and compelled to
bring to by her guns. Then the boats went alongside, forced the
Turkish sailors and Bashi-Bazouks to take to their boats, and then
after transporting the rescued women and children to the schooner, set
fire to the ships.
No less than eighteen were overhauled and destroyed in the course of a
week--fourteen hundred women and children being rescued, the first two
batches being landed at Psara as the nearest Greek island, while the
last batch was taken to Athens. On returning from that trip they found
that the destruction they caused had so alarmed the ship-owners of
Smyrna that the traffic by sea had almost entirely ceased, and that
the slaves were now carried across in boats or small vessels to the
mainland opposite the island, which was but six or seven miles away.
Here it was difficult to interrupt it, for the Turkish fleet lay off
the town of Chios, and the smaller ships cruised about in the
channel.
Trusting to her superior sailing power, the _Misericordia_ entered by
the southern, which was the broader end of the straits, and kept
hovering about between the island and the mainland. She was frequently
chased by the Turks, and several times engaged their cruisers at a
distance, the superior rapidity of her fire, and the ease with which
she manœuvred, giving her a great advantage over her clumsy
opponents. Two of the Turkish corvettes were so severely handled that
they had to retire under the shelter of the guns of the fleet. Over a
score of small craft were intercepted and destroyed, and two hundred
and fifty more slaves rescued. At night she generally ran across and
anchored in some indentation on the Turkish side, going in after
nightfall, knowing that the Turkish cruisers always retired before
dark to their anchorage off Chios.
One night they were at anchor in a deep bay near the narrow and
northern mouth of the straits. At about three in the morning Horace
was on the watch with Miller, and was walking up and down the
quarter-deck with him, when one of the quarter-masters came aft.
“It seems to me, sir,” he said to the first lieutenant, “that I can
hear some sort of noise out seaward.”
Miller stopped in his walk and listened intently. “There is some sort
of noise, sure enough, quarter-master.”
It was a quiet night, not a breath of wind was stirring, but a
confused sound was audible like that of small waves breaking on a
stony beach. “What do you make it out to be?” he asked the
quarter-master. “It is too irregular and confused for oars.”
“I don’t know, sir; it ain’t the sound of the oars of one boat or of
two, but I should say that it might be the sound of a dozen.”
“I think you are right,” Miller said after listening for a while. “I
don’t see what else it can be. Go down and call Captain Martyn.”
In two or three minutes Martyn was on deck. “You make out oars, I
hear, Miller?”
“I am not sure that it is the sound of oars, but it may be.”
Martyn listened attentively.
“I have very little doubt it is that,” he said. “It is possible some
boat may have gone over from this side with the news that we are here,
or they may have arranged some fire signal and given notice in that
way, and they have sent the boats of the fleet across to cut us out.
Well, if so, we have got to fight; there is not a breath of wind. Call
the other watch on deck, quarter-master.”
The men soon tumbled up.
“Will you see to getting the boarding nettings up, Mr. Miller. Mr.
Tarleton, get a boat put in the water, ship a light anchor, and drop
it a cable length of her quarter. Get springs into both cables, so
that we can work her round and keep her broadside on to an attack.
Horace, will you call up your father in the first place, and go down
with the two Greeks to the lower deck and get all that mob of women
and children down into the hold. Call the men to quarters, boatswain;
open the magazine, get up canister and grape; let the men muster with
muskets and boarding-pikes.”
The guns were run in and loaded, and when everything was in readiness
a dead silence reigned fore and aft. The noise was now much louder,
and there could be no doubt any longer that it was caused by the
approach of a large number of boats; then Martyn spoke in a clear
voice that could be heard from end to end of the schooner.
“As you can hear for yourselves, men, it is evident that we are about
to be attacked by a flotilla of boats. Well, we have got to beat them
off. You know, without my telling you, that there is no mercy to be
expected at the hands of the Turks if they become the masters of this
ship, so we have got to beat them off; and as it is a choice between
doing so and of being murdered afterwards, I am sure I need not tell
you that we must fight to the last, and I for one have very little
fear of what the result will be. We have done good work as British
sailors in saving life up to this point, and now we have got to show
them what British sailors can do when they are fighting for their own
lives. Don’t cheer, lads, they might hear it across the water, and
they may as well think they are going to take us by surprise; we will
cheer when we have beaten them off.”
A hum of approval ran round the ship, and then the men stood to their
guns with their pistols in their belts, and their muskets and
boarding-pikes ready at hand. Mr. Beveridge with the two Greeks had
taken their positions, armed with rifles, near the wheel.
“They must be coming very slowly, Tarleton,” Miller muttered
impatiently. “They must be a mile away still.”
“I expect the boats are crowded with troops, Miller, and I daresay
they are rowing easily so as to keep well in a body.”
“I suppose that is it; but I wish the beggars would make haste. I hate
this waiting.”
“So do I,” Tarleton agreed. “Well, we shall give them a hot reception
when they do come. If it were anyone but Turks, I should say we were
going to have very hot work of it. The Turks are good fellows to fight
on shore, but they are no good on the water, and I expect they will
attack us pell-mell without the least plan or order. Well, we shall
soon know; another ten minutes, and they will be near enough to
begin.”