SOME NEW CHARACTERS WALK, GLIDE, AND FURIOUSLY GALLOP INTO THE TALE, AND
OTHERWISE INTRODUCE THEMSELVES TO NOTICE.
In the interior court of a beautiful Moorish villa not far from the
city, sat Mrs Langley, wife of Colonel Langley, British consul at the
"Court" of Algiers.
The lady of whom we write was unusually romantic, for her romance
consisted of a deep undercurrent of powerful but quiet enthusiasm, with
a pretty strong surface-flow of common-sense. Her husband was a man of
noble mind and commanding presence--a magnificent representative John
Bull, with the polish of a courtier and the principles of a Christian;
one who had been wisely chosen to fill a very disagreeable post, full of
responsibility and danger.
On a stool at the feet of Mrs Langley sat a sunny second edition of
herself, about eight years of age, named Agnes. In the cradle which
Agnes had formerly occupied reposed a remarkably plump and dimpled
representative of the Colonel. When respectfully addressed he was
called Jim, but he was more familiarly known as Baby.
A small negress from beyond the Zahara, and blacker than any coal,
rocked Jim violently. For this--not the rocking, but the violence--she
had been unavailingly rebuked by Mrs Langley, until that lady's heart
had nearly lost all hope.
"There--you have done it again, Zubby," said Mrs Langley, referring to
a push that well-nigh rolled Master Jim, (as a sea-captain once said),
out at the starboard side of the cradle.
Zubby confessed her guilt, by looking abashed--and what a solemn look an
abashed one is in a negress with very large eyes!--as well as by rocking
more gently.
Agnes vented a sudden little laugh at the expression of Zubby's face;
and, the door opening at that moment, Colonel Langley entered the court,
and sat down beside his wife under the giant leaves of a small
banana-tree, whose life was drawn from a boxful of earth about three
feet square.
"My dear," said the Colonel, "I have two rather amusing things to lay
before you this evening. One is a gift from the Dey, the other is a
letter. Which will you have first?"
"The gift, of course," replied the lady.
"Let her come in, Ali," called the Colonel to his interpreter, who stood
in the passage outside.
Rais Ali, a Moor clad in the usual Turkish garb, but with a red fez or
skull-cap on his head instead of a turban, threw open the door leading
out of the court, and ushered in poor Paulina Ruffini with her child.
"Is _this_ the Dey's gift?" asked the astonished lady, rising hurriedly.
"It is; at least she is lent to us, and we are bound to accept her.--
Address her in French, my dear; she does not understand English. In
fact, you'd better take her to your own room and have a talk."
Mrs Langley addressed to the poor captive a few reassuring words, and
led her away, leaving the Colonel to amuse himself with Agnes.
"What has she been sent to us for?" asked Agnes.
"To be a serv--a companion to you and baby, my pet."
"That was kind of the Dey, wasn't it?" said the child.
"Well--ye-es; oh yes, doubtless, it was very kind of him," replied the
Colonel.
We fear that the Colonel did not fully appreciate the kindness that
resulted in the gift either of Paulina Ruffini as his servant, or of
Sidi Hassan as his attendant, for he saw clearly that the former was
unaccustomed to menial work, and he knew that Sidi Hassan was a
turbulent member of the community. However, being a man of prompt
action, and knowing that it was of the utmost importance that he should
stand well in the good graces of the Dey, he resolved to receive Paulina
into his establishment as governess of the nursery and companion to his
wife, and to leave Sidi Hassan very much to the freedom of his own will,
so long as that will did not interfere with the interests of the
consulate.
On the return of his wife he listened to her pathetic account of
Paulina's sad history, and then produced the letter to which he had
referred on first entering.
"This letter necessitates my riding into town immediately. It is a
curious document in its way, therefore lend me your ear."