As soon as the white slaves recognised the messenger to Mogador, they
all rushed forward to meet him.
"Speak, Krooman!" exclaimed Harry. "Ask him if the money for our ransom
will be paid? If so, we are free, and they dare not sell us again."
"Here--here!" exclaimed Bill, pointing to the man who came along with Bo
Muzem. "Axe this man where be brother Jim an' Master Terence?"
Harry and Colin turned towards the man, from whom Bill desired this
inquiry to be made, and recognised in him the grazier to whom Terence
and Jim had been sold.
The Krooman had no opportunity for putting the question; for Bo Muzem,
on drawing near to the gate of the town, had allowed his passion to
mount into a violent storm. As soon as he beheld the slaves, he shouted
out, "Christian dogs! you have deceived me! Let every man, woman, and
child, in this town assemble, and be witnesses of the fate that this
lying infidel so richly deserves. Let all witness the death of a slave,
who has falsely declared he has an uncle in Swearah, named
`For-God's-sake-bias'. Let all witness the revenge Bo Muzem will take
on the unbelieving dog who has deceived him."
As soon as Bo Muzem's tongue was stopped sufficiently to enable him to
hear the voices of those around him, he was informed that the white
slaves were all sold, the nephew of "For-God's-sake-bias" among the
rest, and on better terms than he and his partners had expected to get
at Swearah.
Had Harry Blount been reserved, Bo Muzem would have been much pleased at
this news; but he now declared that his partners had no right to sell
without his concurrence--that he owned an interest in the slaves; and
that the dog who had deceived him should not be sold, but should suffer
the penalty incurred, for sending him, Bo Muzem, on his long and
bootless journey.
Rais Mourad now came upon the ground. The Moor was not long in
comprehending all the circumstances connected with the affair. He
instantly ordered his followers to gather around the white slaves, and
escort them outside the walls of the town.
Bo Muzem attempted to prevent the order from being executed. He was
opposed by everybody, not only by by the Moor, but his own partners, as
also the sheik of the town, who declared that there should be no blood
spilt among those partaking of his hospitality.
The slaves were now mounted on the horses that had been provided for
them, and conducted through the gateway, leaving Bo Muzem half frantic
with impotent rage.
There was but one man to sympathise with him in his disappointment--the
grazier to whom Terence and Jim had been sold, and who had made
arrangements for the purchase of the other three.
Riding up to the Moor, this man declared that the slaves were his
property, that he had purchased them the day before; and had given for
each four horses, and ten dollars in money.
He loudly protested against being "choused" out of his bargain, and
declared that he would bring two hundred men, if necessary, for the
purpose of reclaiming his own.
Rais Mourad, paying no attention to this threat, gave orders to his
followers to move on; and, although it was now almost night, he started
off in the direction of Agadeer.
Before he had proceeded far, he perceived the Arab grazier riding at
full speed in the opposite direction, and towards his own home.
"I wish," said Colin, "that we had made some inquiries of that fellow
about Jim and Terence; but it's too late now."
"Yes, too late," echoed Harry; "and I wish that he had obtained
possession in the place of our present master; we should then have all
come together again. But what are we to think of this last turn of
Fortune's wheel?"
"I am rather pleased at it," answered Colin. "A while ago we were in
despair because the Moor had bought us. That was a mistake. If he had
not done so, you, Harry, would have been killed."
"Bill!" added the young Scotchman, turning to the sailor, "what are you
dreaming about?"
"Nothink," answered Bill, "I'm no goin' to drame or think any mair."
"We are agwine straight for Swearah," observed the Krooman, as he spoke
glancing towards the north-west.
"That is true," exclaimed Harry, looking in the same direction. "Can it
be that we are to be taken to Mogador, after all? If so, there is hope
for us yet."
"But Bo Muzem could find no one there who would pay the money for our
ransom," interposed Colin.
"He nebba go thar," said the Krooman. "He nebba hab de time."
"I believe the Krooman is right," said Harry. "We have been told that
Mogador is four days' journey from here; and the merchant was gone but
six days."
The conversation of the slaves was here interrupted by the Moors, who
kept constantly urging them to greater speed.
The night came on very dark, but Rais Mourad would not allow them to
move at a slower pace.
Sailor Bill, being as he declared unused to "navigate any sort o' land
craft", could only keep his seat on the animal he bestrode, by allowing
it to follow the others, while he clutched its mane with a firm grasp of
both hands.
The journey was continued until near midnight; when the old sailor,
unable any longer to endure the fatigue, managed to check the pace of
his animal and dismount.
The Moors endeavoured to make him proceed, but were unsuccessful.
Bill declared that should he again be placed on the horse, he should
probably fall off and break his neck.
This was communicated to Rais Mourad, who had turned back in a rage to
inquire the cause of the delay. It was the Krooman who acted as
interpreter.
The Moor's anger immediately subsided on learning that one of the slaves
could speak Arabic.
"Do you and your companions wish for freedom?" asked Rais Mourad,
addressing himself to the Krooman.
"We pray for it every hour."
"Then tell that foolish man that freedom is not found here, that to
obtain it he must move on along with me."
The Krooman made the communication as desired.
"I don't want to hear any more about freedom," answered Bill; "I've
'eard enough av it. If any on 'em is goin' to give us a chance for our
liberty, let 'em do it without so many promises."
The old sailor remained obstinate.
Neither entreaties nor threats could induce him to go farther; and Rais
Mourad gave orders to his followers to halt upon the spot, saying that
he should stay there for the remainder of the night. The halt was
accordingly made, and a temporary camp established.
Although exhausted with their long, rough ride, Harry and Colin could
not sleep. The hope of liberty was glowing too brightly within their
bosoms.
This hope had not been inspired by anything that had been said or done
by Rais Mourad, for they now placed no trust in the promises of any one.
Their hopes were simply based upon the belief that they were journeying
towards Mogador, and that the Moor, their master, was an intelligent
man--a man who ought to know that he would not lose his money by taking
English subjects to a place where they would be sure of being ransomed.