Let us turn now, good reader, to a scene more congenial--namely, the
garden in front of the British consul's country residence.
One evening, two weeks after the event just narrated, Ted Flaggan and
Rais Ali chanced to meet at the gate.
"Ye've got stirrin' times of it here intirely. Mister Ally Babby," said
the tar, whose familiarity almost verged on impudence; "what betwane you
an' the 40,000 thieves--more or less--in the town, I find it rare
entertainment."
"Yoos complimentary dis marnin'," returned the interpreter, with a
smile.
"It's always the way with me. I howld that purliteness is chape.--Ye've
heard the noos, I s'pose?"
"W'at noos?" demanded Ali.
"W'y, the noos that the war betwane this Raigincy of Algiers an' Tunis
is goin' on raither favourable, and that forty mules were brought in
this morning loaded with human heads."
"Oh yes, I heers dat," replied Ali carelessly, as he filled his pipe
from Flaggan's tobacco-pouch. "I sees all de hids as I comes up de road
dis marnin'. Twinty more mule hims 'xpec' for come in de morrer
mornin'."
"You don't mane it!" said Ted. "They seem to be free of their heads
away at Tunis.--But there's more noos than that," continued the seaman,
calmly scanning the seaward horizon, as he filled his pipe. "Have 'ee
heard that the Dey Omar has cut off the head of Sidi Hassan for nothin'
worse than a touch of imperliteness?"
"No, I not heers dat," answered Ali, with a look of interest. "I's
werry glad."
"Glad! why so?"
"'Cos Sidi Hassan hims gib me reason to 'xpec' hims cut off _my_ hid
soonerer or laterer."
"It's my opinion," said Flaggan, with a peculiar smile, "that if ye go
cutting away at one another like that, soonerer or laterer you'll all be
like the converse o' the Kilkenny cats, and have nothin' left of 'ee but
your heads stickin' on spikes above your gates and walls."
"Pr'aps so," was Ali's complacent reply.
At this point the conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearance
of Angela and her sister Paulina, who carried in her arms the little
Angelina. Following them at some distance came the amiable Zubby,
bearing aloft on her shoulder--as being the place of greatest safety--
Colonel Langley's youngest hope. Master Jim's back-bone had not at that
time attained sufficient stiffness to warrant the position, but Zubby
never thought of that; and Master Jim consequently complained in a
series of yells and wry faces; but Zubby, being ignorant of the state of
his feelings, did not mind that. Master Jim soon became purple in the
visage, but Zubby, looking up at him, and supposing the effect to be the
result of an unusual flow of spirits, rather enjoyed that than
otherwise.
"Pr'aps I may be excused for the observation," said Flaggan, removing
his pipe for a moment, and gazing over Paulina's shoulder, "but if that
youngster ain't being strangulated he looks oncommon--"
A scream from Paulina, as she rushed back and bestowed on Zubby a box on
the ear cut short the seaman's observation.
"Have I not told you again and again, girl, _never_ to put the child on
your shoulder?"
"Oh, mim, me forgit," exclaimed the penitent Zaharian.
"That will keep you in remembrance, then," said Paulina, giving her
another slap.
Her own little one woke up at this point and crowed, being too young, we
presume, to laugh.
"Oh, Signor Flaggan," said Angela earnestly, while her sister entered
into converse with the interpreter, "have you heers yit 'bout de Signors
Rimini?"
Angela had already acquired a very slight amount of broken English,
which tumbled neatly from her pretty lips.
"Whist, cushla, whist!" interrupted the seaman, leading the girls slowly
aside; "ye mustn't spake out so plain afore that rascal Ally Babby, for
though he's a good enough soul whin asleep, I do belave he's as big a
thafe and liar as any wan of his antecessors or descendants from Adam to
Moses back'ard an' for'ard. What, now, an' I'll tell 'ee. I _have_
heerd about 'em. There's bin no end a' sbirros--them's the pleecemen,
you know miss--scourin' the country after them; but don't look so
scared-like, cushla, for they ain't found 'em yet, an' that feller
Bacri, who, in my opinion, is the honestest man among the whole bilin'
of 'em, he's bin an' found out w'ere they're hidin', an--" here the
seaman's voice descended to a hoarse whisper, while his eyes and
wrinkled forehead spoke volumes--"an' he's put me in commission to go an
help 'em!"
"Dear man!" exclaimed Angela.
"Which,--Bacri or me?" asked Flaggan.
"Bacri, o' course," returned Angela, with a little laugh.
Flaggan nodded significantly.
"Yes, he _is_ a dear man w'en you go to his shop; but he's as chape as
the most lib'ral Christian w'en he's wanted to go an' do a good turn to
any one."
"And yoo sure," asked the girl, with rekindled earnestness in her large
black eyes, "dat _all_ Rimini safe--Francisco an' Mar--"
"Ah, all safe,--Mariano inclusive," said the sailor, with an intelligent
nod. "I sees how the land lies. Depend on it that young feller ain't
likely to part with his skin without a pretty stiffish spurt for it."
Although much of Flaggan's language was incomprehensible to the pretty
Sicilian, it was sufficiently clear to her sharp intelligence to enable
her to follow the drift of his meaning; she blushed, as she turned away
her head with a queen-like grace peculiarly Italian, and said--
"When yoo go hoff--to seek?"
"This werry minit," answered the sailor. "In fact I was just castin'
about in my mind w'en you came up how I could best throw Ally Babby off
the scent as to w'ere I was goin'."
"Me manages dat for yoo," said Angela, with a bright significant smile,
as she turned and called to the interpreter.
Ali, who was rather fond of female society, at once advanced with a bow
of gracious orientality.
"Com here, Ali; yoo most 'xplain de flowers me bring hom yiserday."
The polite Moor at once followed the pretty Italian, leaving Ted Flaggan
with her sister.
"You'll excuse me, ma'am, if I bids you raither an abrup' good marnin'.
It's business I have on me hands that won't kape nohow."
Leaving Paulina in some surprise, the blunt seaman put his hands in his
pockets, and went off whistling in the direction of Algiers. Turning
aside before reaching the town, he ascended the Frais Vallon some
distance, meeting with a few Arabs and one or two soldiers, none of
whom, however, took much notice of him, as his stalwart figure and
eccentric bearing and behaviour had become by that time familiar to most
of the inhabitants of the town. It was known, moreover, that he was at
the time under the protection of the British consul, and that he
possessed another powerful protector in the shape of a short, heavy
bludgeon, which he always carried unobtrusively with its head in the
ample pouch of his pea-jacket.
As he proceeded up the valley, and, gradually passing from the broad
road which had been formed by Christian slaves, to the narrow path at
its somewhat rugged head, which had been made by goats, he grew more
careless in his walk and rollicking in his air. At last he began to
smile benignantly, and to address to himself a running commentary on
things in general.
"You've got a fine time of it here all to yersilf, Mister Flaggan. Ah,
it's little the Dey knows what yer after, me boy, or it's the last day
ye'd have to call yer own. Well, now, it's more like a drame than
anything I knows on. What wid Turks an' Moors an' Jews, an' white
slaves of every lingo under the sun, I can't rightly make out to
remimber which it is--Europe, Asia, Afriky, or Ameriky--that I'm livin'
in! Never mind, yer all right wid that blissid cownsl at yer back, an'
this purty little thing in yer pokit."
He became silent, and seemed a little perplexed at this point, looking
about as if in search of something.
"Coorious; I thought it was here I left it; but I niver had a good
mimory for locality. Och! the number of times I was used to miss the
way to school in Ould Ireland, though I thravelled it so often and
knowed it so well! Surely an' it worn't under this rock I putt it, it
must have bin under a relation. Faix, an' it was. Here ye are, me
hearty, come along--hoop!"
Saying this, he gave a powerful tug at something under the rock in
question, and drew forth a canvas bag or wallet, which had the
appearance of being well filled.
Slinging this across his shoulder, Ted Flaggan pursued his way,
moralising as he went, until he came to a rugged hollow among the hills,
in which was a chaos of large stones, mingled with scrubby bushes. Here
he paused again, and the wrinkles of perplexity returned to his brow, as
he peered hither and thither.
Presently he observed a sharp-edged rock, which, projecting upwards,
touched, as it were, the sky-line behind it. Moving to the right until
he brought this rock exactly in line with another prominent boulder that
lay beyond it, he advanced for about fifty yards, and then, stopping,
looked cautiously round among the bushes.
"It must be hereabouts," he muttered, "for the Jew was werry partikler,
an' bid me be partikler likewise, seein' that the hole is well hid, an'
wan is apt to come on it raither--hah!"
Suddenly poor Ted fell headlong into the very hole in question, and
would infallibly have broken his neck, if he had not happened to descend
on the shoulders of a man who, crouched at the bottom of the hole, had
been listening intently to the sound of his approach, and who now seized
his throat in a grip that was obviously not that of a child!
The British tar was not slow to return the compliment with a grasp that
was still less childlike--at the same time he gasped in much anxiety--
"Howld on, ye spalpeen, it's after yersilf I've come, sure; what,
_won't_ ye let go--eh?"
It was quite evident, from the tightening of the grip, that Mariano had
no intention of letting go, for the good reason that, not understanding
a word of what was said, he regarded the seaman as an enemy. Feeling
rather than seeing this, for the hole was deep and dark, Flaggan was
under the necessity of showing fight in earnest, and there is no saying
what would have been the result had not Lucien suddenly appeared from
the interior of a subterranean cavern with which the hole communicated.
Lucien understood English well and spoke it fluently. One or two of
Flaggan's exclamations enlightened him as to the true character of their
unexpected visitor.
"Hold, Mariano!" he cried; "the man is evidently a friend."
"What's that ye're saying?" cried Flaggan, looking up, for he was still
busy attempting to throttle Mariano.
"I tell my brother that you are a friend," said Lucien, scarce able to
restrain laughter.
"Faix, then, it don't look like it from the tratement I resaive at yer
hands.--Howsoever," said the seaman, relaxing his grip and rising, while
Mariano did the same, "it's well for you that I am. Bacri sent me wid a
few words o' comfort to 'ee, an' some purvisions, which I raither fear
we've bin tramplin' about in the dirt; but--no, here it is," he added,
picking up the wallet, which had come off in the struggle, "all right,
an' I make no doubt it'll be of use to 'ee. But it's a poor sort o'
lodgin' ye've got here: wouldn't it be better for all parties if we was
to go on deck?"
"Not so," said Lucien, with a smile, as he fell in with the seaman's
humour. "'Twere better to come to our cabin; this is only the hold of
our ship.--Follow me."
So saying he went down on his hands and knees and disappeared in an
impenetrably dark hole, not three feet high, which opened off the hole
in which they stood.
Mariano pointed to it and motioned to the sailor to follow.
"Arter you, sir," said Ted, bowing politely.
Mariano laughed and followed his brother, and Ted Flaggan, muttering
something about its being the "most strornar companion hatch _he'd_ ever
entered," followed suit.
A creep of two or three yards brought him into a cavern which was just
high enough to admit of a man standing erect, and about eight or ten
feet wide. At the farther extremity of it there was a small stone lamp,
the dim light of which revealed the figure of stout Francisco Rimini
sound asleep on a bundle of straw, wrapped negligently in his burnous,
and with a stone for his pillow. Beside him stood an empty tin dish and
a stone jar of the picturesque form peculiar to the inhabitants of the
Atlas Mountains; the sword given to him by Bacri lay within reach of his
half-open hand.
Neither the scuffle outside nor the entrance of the party had disturbed
the old man.
"My father is worn out with a fruitless search for food!" said Lucien,
sitting down on a piece of rock and motioning to the seaman to do
likewise. "We can venture out in search of food only at night, and last
night was so intensely dark as well as stormy that we failed to procure
anything. Our water jar and platter are empty."
"Then I've just come in the nick of time," said Flaggan, proceeding to
unfasten his wallet and display its much-needed contents.