IS DIPLOMATIC AND OTHERWISE.

Just after the escape of the slaves, as already narrated, the British

consul demanded a private audience of the Dey. His request was granted,

and one morning early he set off on horseback to the city. Arriving

there too soon, he put up his horse, and, threading his way through the

streets of the old town, soon found himself in front of the small and

unpretending, though massive, portal of Bacri the Jew.

He found the master of the house seated in the central court, or skiffa,

drinking coffee with his wife and children.

"Bacri," said the Colonel, "may I venture to interrupt your present

agreeable occupation? I wish to have a talk with you in private."

"With pleasure," replied the Jew, rising and ushering his visitor into a

small apartment, the peculiar arrangement and contents of which

betokened it the wealthy merchant's study or office,--indeed, it might

have been styled either with equal propriety, for Bacri, besides being

an able man of business, was learned in Arabic literature--of which the

town possessed, and still possesses, a valuable library,--and was a

diligent student of the Hebrew Scriptures.

"You are aware," said the Colonel, "that I am, at your request, about to

use my influence with the Dey in behalf of certain friends of yours.

Now, there is an old saying--and I have great respect for many old

sayings,--that `one good turn deserves another.' May I, then, ask you

to do me a favour?"

"Certainly," said the Jew. "Name it."

"You must know, then, that the Dey has been pleased to send me a pretty

Portuguese girl as a slave, along with her infant child."

"I know it," said Bacri.

"You do? Well, this poor girl turns out to be a very sweet creature,

and my wife, although somewhat annoyed at first by the unexpected gift,

and puzzled what to do with her, is now so fond of her, and finds her so

gentle as well as useful, that she has set her heart on having Paulina

Ruffini--that is her name--freed and sent home. This, however, is not

the point. Paulina has a sister named--"

"Angela Diego," interrupted the Jew.

"Oh! you know that too?" said the Colonel, with some surprise. "You

seem to know everything that goes on in this curious city! Indeed, it

is a belief in this general knowledge of yours that brings me here.

Well, poor Paulina is naturally in great anxiety about her sister's

fate, not having heard of her since the day they were cruelly separated

by Sidi Hassan. The latter is now my janissary, and tells me that he

sold Angela to a Jew in the public market, and does not know where she

is. Believing that you can find this out for me, I have come hither

this morning on my way to the palace. Do you think you can?"

"I think I can," said the Jew, opening a door and beckoning to some one

without. "Come hither, Angela. A gentleman wishes to see you."

"What! is this Paulina's sister?" said the consul in surprise, as a

pretty bright-eyed girl obeyed the summons.

"Speak, fair one," said the Jew. "Dost know of one Paulina Ruffini, and

her infant Angelina?"

We need scarcely add that Angela admitted, with a look of surprise, that

she did, and was overwhelmed with joy on finding that her sister was a

happy inmate of the consul's villa, and that in a short time she would

be permitted to see her.

Leaving the Jew's house, well satisfied with his unlooked-for success in

this matter, the consul proceeded to the palace, and was at once

admitted into the audience-chamber.

According to custom, the Dey was seated on a sort of throne, with the

huge lion-pup serving as a footstool. We have said before that this

lion had a decided antipathy to the British consul. Not being able to

speak, it could not give the reason why! Perhaps, although unable to

speak, it might have been able to understand what was said, and,

possibly, had taken offence at the straightforward manner in which the

consul had more than once remonstrated with the Dey for allowing so old

a pup to be at large. Be this as it may, certain it is that, on the

present occasion, the lion raised its head when the consul was

announced. On seeing his hated scarlet uniform, it uttered a savage

growl, sprang up, and ran out of the room by another door, with its tail

between its legs. In springing up, the brute had forgotten its

temporary character of footstool. The result was that the Dey was

tilted violently backwards, and fell off his throne in a confused and

most undignified heap!

Fortunately for the lion--perchance also for the consul--Achmet

possessed too much native dignity and common-sense to allow such an

accident to ruffle his temper. He rose and resumed his seat with a

hearty laugh, as he said--

"You see, Monsieur le Consul, that even lions are afraid of the English

uniform!"

"Your highness is pleased to be complimentary," replied the consul, with

a bow; "and that emboldens me to observe that a Dey should not retain

the services of one who is capable of showing fear."

"Perhaps you are right," returned Achmet, with a smile; "especially one

who has had the audacity to dethrone me.--And now, what demand have you

to make of me to-day? Not, I trust, that old one--the liberation of

slaves!"

"No, not exactly that," replied the consul. "Nevertheless," he added

earnestly, "I do come to make an appeal in behalf of slaves."

The Dey's countenance became grave.

"I refer," continued the consul, "to those unfortunate slaves who

recently attempted to escape, and are now lying in chains condemned to

be bastinadoed, thrown on the hooks, and otherwise tortured to death."

"How!" exclaimed the Dey, frowning darkly, while a flush of anger

covered his face, "can you plead for slaves who have not only rebelled

and fled, but who have disabled two of my janissaries, and some of

whom--especially their leader Castello and the young Sicilian Mariano--

are so turbulent as to be an absolute nuisance to their guards?"

"Your highness is aware," answered the consul respectfully, "that

British ideas in regard to slavery and all connected with it are widely

different from those entertained by Algerines, and I do not presume to

pass an opinion on the sentences pronounced on men who are held guilty

of having violated your laws. I merely plead that you will extend to

them the royal prerogative of mercy--especially to two of their number,

Francisco and Mariano."

"On what ground do you ask mercy for these?" demanded Achmet sternly.

"On the ground that courageous and worthy men, although tempted to rebel

in order to regain their liberty, are not deserving of death; that the

Portuguese girl your Highness was so generous as to send me, and who was

captured along with them, has interested me deeply in their history, and

also on the ground that one is the father and the other the brother of

your scrivano Lucien Rimini."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the Dey in surprise, "Lucien never told me that,

although his own hand made out the order for their execution!"

"That," answered the consul, with a smile, "is because I advised him to

leave the pleading of their cause to me."

"Believing, no doubt," returned the Dey, with a laugh, "that your powers

of persuasion are superior to his. Well, Monsieur le Consul, you may be

right; nevertheless, let me tell you that short though the time be in

which Lucien has been my scrivano, there is that in his modest air and

ready will, as well as his talent, which constitutes a sufficient plea

to induce me to pardon his relations."

"It rejoices me," said the consul, "to find that, as I expected, your

highness's--"

"Yes, yes; say no more on that head," interrupted the Dey. "Here!

Lucien," he added, calling aloud to his secretary, who, clad in superb

Oriental costume, appeared at the door which led into his office, "make

out an order to cancel the sentence against your father and brother, and

let them be sent to the palace immediately. I will speak with thee

again on the matter.--Meanwhile, will Monsieur le Consul come and behold

the present which I am preparing for my royal master the Sublime Porte?"

There was a touch of sarcasm in the tone in which he used the words

"royal master," which the consul understood well enough, for he was

aware that although nominally subject to Turkey, Algiers was to all

intents and purposes an independent power, and that the present referred

to was almost all the benefit derived by the Sultan from his piratical

vassal.

It was costly enough, no doubt, viewed simply in the light of a gift,

and afforded a subject of great interest to the consul when permitted to

survey it--an honour, by the way, which the Dey would not have conferred

on the consul of any of the other nations represented at the Algerine

court, for the British consul at that time was, as we have said, a

special favourite. It consisted of two magnificent milk-white Arab

horses, richly caparisoned; their saddles and bridles being profusely

ornamented with diamonds and other gems, and their shoes being made of

pure gold; several boxes of rare and costly jewels; six women-slaves

with skins of the most beautiful ebony tint; a number of black-maned

lions, several parrots, and a few monkeys.

"Your highness is resolved to please the Sultan by means of variety,"

observed the consul, with a smile, after commenting on the gift in

detail.

"That," replied Achmet, "would have little power to please if the jewels

were not numerous and costly. But happily our treasury can afford it,

although we have not been very successful in war of late."

He looked at the consul with a sly smile as he spoke, but the latter

deemed it wise to be lost in admiration of some of the jewels in

question.

After examining the "present," the consul retired, and Achmet went to

his private apartments to enjoy a cup of coffee and a pipe.

The room in which he sat was similar to that already described as being

the reception-room of the bridal party, only the decorations were if

possible more elaborate and sumptuous. Here, seated on rich cushions,

with, not his most beautiful, but his wisest wife beside him, Achmet--

once a petty officer of janissaries--gave himself up to the enjoyment of

the hour. Christian slaves--once the happy butterflies of European and

other lands--attended on him, filled his pipe, brought him hot coffee,

and watched his every movement. They were richly dressed, more richly

and gaily, perchance, than they had ever been in the days of freedom,

when they had been wont to chat and laugh with careless hilarity. But

they were mute enough now. A few of them had tasted the bastinado and

been tamed; most of them had been wise enough to tame themselves. If

Shakespeare had been a Turk he would probably have written a very

different version of the Taming of the Shrew!

When coffee was finished, the Dey ordered the attendants to withdraw,

and then settling himself comfortably on the cushions, and puffing two

white streams of smoke slowly through his nose, in order to gather the

fullest enjoyment therefrom, he thus addressed himself to his

better-proportion--we had almost said "half," but forgot for the moment

that there were several Sultanas!

"Ashweesha, thou art a wise woman. I might almost style thee my

guardian angel, for not only hast thou often guided me on the right

road, but sometimes thou hast prevented me from straying into the

wrong."

Ashweesha, who was a sweet and passably good-looking woman of about

thirty, raised her large dark eyes to the face of Achmet with a look of

gratitude, but did not reply. Indeed, her husband did not seem to

expect an answer, for he continued to smoke for some time in silence,

with his eyes fixed abstractedly on a tame gazelle--the kitten of the

harem--which tried to attract his attention.

"Thou art sad, or anxious, to-night," said Ashweesha, at length breaking

silence.

"Both sad and anxious," replied the Dey slowly. "My position is indeed

one of power, but not of comfort or safety."

A shade rested for a moment like a flitting cloud on the face of

Ashweesha. Gladly would she have exchanged her high estate, with all

its costly and gorgeous array, for a life of humble toil accompanied

with peace and security--for she was of gentle nature--but this was

denied her.

"Listen," said the Dey, laying aside his pipe and talking earnestly; "it

may well chance, as it has happened before, that thy counsel may lighten

my care. I am sad because two of my chief officers are snakes in the

grass. They are venomous too, and their bite will prove deadly if it be

not avoided. Canst thou guess their names, Ashweesha?"

"Sidi Omar and Sidi Hassan," said Ashweesha.

Achmet looked surprised.

"Thou art partly right, though I did not expect thy swift reply. Is it

a guess, or hast thou obtained information?"

"I have heard of it from one who is our friend."

"Indeed. Well, thou art right as to Omar, and it is that which makes me

sad. Thou art right also in regard to Sidi Hassan, but I care little

for him. He is but a tool in the hands of one whose power is great--

Hamet, our Aga of cavalry. Omar I had hoped better things of; but fear

him not. The Aga, however, is a dangerous foe, and unscrupulous. I do

not clearly see my way to guard against his wiles. My chief safeguard

is that he and Omar are bitter enemies. I know not what to do."

"The bow-string," suggested Ashweesha.

The reader must not think this suggestion inconsistent with the

character of one whom we have described as gentle and sweet. The

Sultana had been trained in a peculiar school, and was as much

accustomed to hear of disagreeable and troublesome people being

strangled as Europeans are to the drowning of inconvenient kittens.

The Dey laughed.

"Alas! my gentle one," he said, "all powerful and despotic though I be,

there are a few officers around me whom I dare not get rid of in this

way--at least not just now. But it amuses me to hear thee recommend

such strong measures, thou who art always on the side of mercy."

"Truly," said Ashweesha, with a flash in her dark eyes that proved the

presence of other elements besides sweetness in her disposition, "my

leanings are always towards mercy, save when you have to deal with those

who possess no mercy. If you do not apply the bow-string to Hamet in

good time, rest assured that he will apply it to you."

The Dey became more serious at this, yet still smiled as he gazed in the

flushed countenance of his spouse and adviser.

"Thou art right, Ashweesha," said he, in a meditative tone, "and it is

for the purpose of finding out, if possible, when it is the right time

to strike that I now take counsel with thee. What wouldst thou advise?"

"Sidi Hassan, you say, has been sent to be the British consul's

janissary?"

"Yes."

"For what purpose?" asked the Sultana.

"Partly to keep him out of the way of the mischief which is always

brewing more or less in this warlike city; partly to flatter his vanity

by placing him in the service of one for whom he knows that I entertain

great respect, personally, as well as on account of the powerful nation

which he represents; and partly to remind him gently of my power to

order him on any service that I please, and to cut off his insolent head

if so disposed."

"That is so far well," said Ashweesha, letting her delicate

henna-stained fingers play idly with the gorgeous pearls which fell like

a lustrous fountain from her neck, "but it is possible that he may

reflect on the propriety of trying to secure, at no distant date, a

master who will reward him more liberally without conveying covert

threats. But much good," she hastened to add, observing that her lord

did not much relish her last remark, "much good may result from his

being placed under the British consul's roof; for the consul's wife is a

wise woman, and may help us to discover some of his plots; for plotting

he is certain to be, whether in the city or out of it, and you may be

sure that a clever woman like Madame Langley will have her eyes open to

all that goes on in her own palace."

"Nay, then, Ashweesha," returned the Dey, laughing, "thou hast studied

the lady to small profit if thou dost believe her capable of acting the

part of a spy on her own domestics."

"And thou hast studied thy wife to small profit," retorted Ashweesha

playfully, "if you think I could make such a mistake as to ask her to

become a spy. Does not all the city know that Madame Langley has over

and over again refused the most costly bribes offered to induce her to

use her influence with her husband? and is it not also well-known that

if her influence is to be gained at all, it must be by touching her

heart? She is so open, too, in her conduct, that her domestics know all

she does. Did I not tell you, the other night, how the chief from

Marocco offered her a splendid diamond ring to induce her to intreat her

husband's favour in something--I know not what,--and how she flushed

with indignation as she refused it, and told the chief that all the

diamonds in the world could not move her to attempt the leading of her

husband from the path of duty? No, I will not ask her to become a spy,

but I will lead her, in conversation, to tell me all she knows, or at

least is willing to communicate, about Sidi Hassan; and perchance some

good may come of it."

"It may be so," said the Dey; "and where and when dost thou propose to

meet with her?"

"Here, and to-morrow."

"How! in the palace?"

"Yes. Ask her and her little girl to come and dine with me," said

Ashweesha.

"That would be a high compliment," returned the Dey dubiously; "such as

has never been paid before, methinks, by a Dey of Algiers to any

consul's wife."

"No matter," returned the Sultana; "you have a high regard for Colonel

Langley, and have often paid him unusual compliments,--why not

compliment his wife?"

"Well, it shall be done. To-morrow afternoon prepare to receive her."

The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale · 第 21 / 56 题