CAPTIVES AMONG THE MOORS
A week later the _Tartar_ proceeded to the Mediterranean. One morning
after cruising there for some weeks, when the light mist lifted, a vessel
was seen some three miles away. The captain looked at her through his
telescope.
“That is a suspicious-looking craft,” he said to the first lieutenant, Mr.
Roberts. “We will lower a cutter and overhaul her.”
The cutter’s crew were at once mustered. Will was the midshipman in charge
of her, and took his place by the side of the third lieutenant, Mr.
Saxton. The lieutenant ordered the men to take their muskets with them.
“May I take Dimchurch and Stevens?” Will asked.
“Yes, if you like. There is room for them in the bow, and two extra
muskets may be useful.”
The two men, who were standing close by, took their places when they heard
the permission given.
“I certainly don’t like her appearance, Gilmore,” the lieutenant said. “I
cannot help thinking that she is an Algerine by her rig; and though every
Algerine is not necessarily a pirate, a very large number of them are. I
fancy a breeze will spring up soon, and in that case we may have a long
row before we overtake her.”
The breeze came presently, and the Algerine began to slip away. It was,
however, but a puff, and the boat again began to gain on her. When they
were five miles from the ship they were within a quarter of a mile from
the chase.
“Confound the fellow!” the lieutenant muttered; “but I think I was
mistaken, for there are not more than half a dozen men on her deck.”
At length the boat swept up to the side of the craft. As the men leapt to
their feet a couple of round shot were thrown into the boat, one of them
going through the bottom. The cutter immediately began to fill, and the
men as they climbed up were confronted by fully a hundred armed Moors.
Lieutenant Saxton was at once cut down, and most of the sailors suffered
the same fate. As usual, Will, Dimchurch, and Stevens held together and
fought back to back. The contest, however, was too uneven to last, and the
Moorish captain came up to them and signed to them that they must lay down
their arms.
“Do it at once,” Will said. “They evidently prefer to take us prisoners to
killing us, which they could do without difficulty. We have been caught in
a regular trap, and must make the best of it.”
So saying he threw down his cutlass, and the others followed his example.
They were taken down below with three other unwounded sailors, and the
wounded and dead were at once thrown overboard.
“This is the worst affair we have been in together,” said Dimchurch,
“since we fell into the hands of those negroes. Unless the _Tartar_
overtakes us I am afraid we are in for a bad time.”
“I am afraid so, Dimchurch, and I fear that there is little chance indeed
of the frigate overtaking us. In such a light wind this craft would run
away from her, and with fully five miles start it would be useless for the
boats to try to overtake her.”
“What are they going to do with us?”
“There is very little doubt about that. They will make slaves of us, and
either set us to work on the fortifications or sell us to be taken
up-country.”
“I don’t expect they will keep us long,” Dimchurch said grimly.
“I don’t know; they have great numbers of Christians whom they hold
captive, and it is rare indeed that one of them escapes. I suppose some
day or other we’ll send a fleet to root them out, but our hands are far
too full for anything of that sort at present. If we have a chance of
escape you may be sure that we’ll take it, but we had better make up our
minds at once to make the best of things until opportunity offers.”
“I only hope we’ll be kept together, sir. I could put up with it if that
were so, but it would be awful if we were separated; for even if one saw a
chance for escape he could not let the others know.”
“You may be sure, Dimchurch, that whatever opportunity I might see I would
not avail myself of it unless I could take you both off with me.”
“The same here, sir,” Dimchurch said; and the words were echoed by Tom.
Six days later they heard the anchor run down, and presently the hatchway
was lifted and they were told to come on deck. They found, as they had
expected, that the craft was lying in the harbour of Algiers. At any other
time they might have admired the city, with its mosques and minarets, its
massive fortifications, and the shipping in the port, but they were in no
humour to do so now. They regarded it as their jail. They and the three
sailors were put into a boat and rowed ashore, the captain of the craft
going with them. They were met at the wharf by a Moor, who was evidently
an official of rank. He and the captain held an animated conversation, and
by their laughter Will had no doubt whatever that the captain was telling
the clever manner in which he had effected their capture. Then the
official said something which was not altogether pleasing to the captain,
who, however, crossed his hands on his breast and bowed submissively. The
official then handed the six prisoners over to some men who had
accompanied him, and they were immediately marched across to a large
barrack-like building, which was evidently a prison. Two hours afterwards
a great troop of captives came in. These were so worn and wearied that
they asked but few questions of the new-comers.
“Don’t talk about it,” one said in answer to a question from Will. “There
is not one of us who would not kill himself if he got the chance. It is
work, work, work from daybreak till sunset. We have enough to eat to keep
us alive; we are too valuable to be allowed to die. We get food before we
start in the morning, again at mid-day, and again when we get back here.
Oh, they are very careful of us, but they don’t mind how we suffer! The
sun blazes down all day, and not a drop of drink do we get except at
meals. In spite of their care we slip through their hands. Sunstroke and
fever are always thinning our ranks. That is the history of it, mate, and
if I were to talk till morning I could not tell you more. I suppose by
your cut that you are a man-of-war’s-man?”
“You’re right,” Dimchurch said. “We got caught in a trap, and our nine
mates were killed without having a chance to fire a shot.”
“Ah!” the man said with a sigh, “I wish I had had their luck, and you will
wish so too before you have been here long.”
Rough food was served out, and then the slaves, after eating, lay down
without exchanging a word, anxious only to sleep away the thought of their
misery. The three friends lay down together. To each prisoner a small rug
had been served out, and this was their only bedding.
“We are certainly in a bad corner,” Dimchurch said, “but the great point
will be to keep up our spirits and make the best of it.”
“That is so,” Will agreed. “I am convinced that, however sharp a watch
they may keep, three resolute men will find some way of escape. We’ll know
a little more about it to-morrow. If there are windows to this building we
ought to be able to get out of them, and if it is surrounded by walls we
ought to be able to scale them. Besides, if we are set to work in the city
we might find an opportunity of evading the diligence of our guards. For
one thing, we must assume an air of cheerfulness while we work. In time,
when they see that we do our work well and are contented and obedient,
their watch will relax. Above all, we must not, like these poor fellows,
make up our minds that our lot is hopeless. If we once lose hope we shall
lose everything. At any rate, for the present we must wait patiently. We
have still got to find out everything; all we know is that we are confined
in a prison, and that we shall have to do some work or other during the
day.
“We have got to find out the plan of the city and its general bearings, to
learn something, if we can, of the surrounding country, and to see how we
should manage to subsist if we got away. Of course the natural idea would
be to make for the sea and steal a boat. But we came up from the shore
through an archway in the wall; it was strongly guarded, and I fear it
would be next to impossible to get down to the port. Our best plan, I
think, would be to take to the country if we can, and go down to the shore
some distance from the city. We might then light upon a boat belonging to
some fisherman. Of course all this is pure conjecture, and all we can
arrange is that we shall keep our eyes about us, and look for an empty
house in which we might hide and discover how we might leave the town on
the land side, where it is not likely the fortifications will be nearly so
strong as on the sea-face.”
The next morning the captives were deprived of their clothes, and in their
place were given dirty linen jackets and loose trousers. Their shoes were
also taken away. They then fell in with the rest of the captives. On
leaving the prison they were formed into companies, each of which, under a
strong guard, marched off in different directions. The three friends kept
close together, and were assigned to a company which was told off to clean
the streets of a certain quarter of the town. They were furnished with
brooms and brushes, and were soon hard at work. As the morning went on,
the heat became tremendous. Several men fell, but the overseers lashed
them until they got upon their feet again.
“My eye! this is like working in an oven,” Dimchurch muttered; “the dust
is choking me. We must certainly get out of this as soon as we can, sir.”
“I agree with you, Dimchurch. I feel as if I were melting away. If I were
to put a bit of food in my mouth I believe the heat would bake it in no
time.”
“I couldn’t swallow anything,” Tom said, “not even a mackerel fresh out of
the sea.”
“You know we agreed that we must make the best of everything,” Will said.
“If we work as we are doing we can’t but please our overseers, and shall
save ourselves from blows.”
“They had better not strike me,” Dimchurch said; “the man that did it
would never live to strike another.”
“That might be,” Will said, “but it would be a small satisfaction to you
if you were to be flogged to death afterwards.”
“No, I suppose not, sir; but flesh and blood can’t stand such a thing as
being struck by one of these yellow hounds.”
At twelve o’clock the gang returned, and the men drank eagerly from a
fountain in the courtyard of the prison.
“Take as little as you can,” Will said; “if you drink much it will do you
harm. You can drink often if you like, provided that you only take a sip
at a time.”
“It is easy to say, Mr. Gilmore, but it is not so easy to do. I feel as if
I could drink till I burst.”
“I dare say you do; I feel the same myself; but I am sure that to take a
lot of water just now would do us harm instead of good.”
Their abstinence so far benefited them that they felt their work in the
afternoon less than they had done in the morning, though the heat was, if
anything, greater.
That evening they examined their prison. It consisted of one great hall
supported by rows of pillars. Here the whole of the prisoners were
confined. It was lighted by windows five-and-twenty feet from the ground.
There was no guard inside, but fifty men, some of whom were always on
sentry, slept outside the hall. It was clear to them, therefore, that no
escape could be made after they were once locked up, and that if they were
to get away at all they must make the attempt when they were employed
outside.
On the third day one of the sailors from the _Tartar_, who had disregarded
Will’s advice to drink sparingly, fell down dead after drinking till he
could drink no more. Scarcely a day passed without one or more of the
captives succumbing; some of them went mad and were at once despatched by
their guards.
After working for a fortnight in the streets the gang were marched in
another direction, and were put to labour on the fortifications. This was
a great relief. They were now free from the choking dust of the streets,
and obtained a view of the surrounding country. The three, as usual,
laboured together, and showed so much zeal and activity that they pleased
the head of their guard. They had the great advantage that they were
accustomed to work together, while the majority of the gang had no such
experience. There were men of all nationalities—French, Spanish, Italians,
Maltese, and Greeks, and though most of them were accustomed to a warm
climate, they had nothing like the strength of the three Englishmen. In
moving heavy stones, therefore, the three friends were able to perform as
much work as any dozen other prisoners. They were the only Englishmen in
the gang, for the other two sailors had been from the first placed with
another party.
On the march to their work they passed by a palace of considerable extent,
surrounded by grounds which were entered on that side by a small postern
gate. “I would give a good deal to know if that gate is locked,” Will
said.
“What good would that do, sir?”
“Well, if we could get in there we might hide in the shrubbery, and stop
there till the first pursuit was over. No one would think of searching
there. I should say we might, if we had luck, seize and bind three of the
gardeners or attendants, and so issue from one of the gates dressed in
their clothes without exciting suspicion.”
“What should we do for grub, sir?”
“Well, for that we must trust to chance. There are houses that might be
robbed, and travellers who might be lightened of their belongings. I can’t
think that three active men, though they might be unarmed, would allow
themselves to starve. Of course we should want to get rid of these
clothes, and find some weapons; but the great point of all is to discover
whether that door is locked.”
“All right, sir! I am ready to try anything you may suggest, for I am sick
to death of this work, and the heat, and the food, and the guard, and
everything connected with it.”
They looked at the door with longing eyes each time they passed it. At
last one day a man came out of the gateway just as they were passing, and,
pulling the gate to behind him, walked away without apparently thinking of
locking it.
“That settles that point,” Will said. “The next most important question
is, Are there people moving about inside? Then how are we to slip away
unseen? To begin with, we will manage always to walk in the rear of the
gang. There are often rows; if some poor wretch goes mad and attacks the
guard there is generally a rush of the others to his assistance. If such a
thing were to happen near this gate we might manage to slip in unnoticed.
Still, I admit the chances are against anything of the sort taking place
just at that point, and I expect we must try and think of something
better.”
A fortnight later, just as they were passing the door, a small party of
cavalry, evidently the escort to some great chief, came dashing along at
full speed. The road being somewhat narrow the slaves and guards scattered
in all directions, several of them being knocked down.
“Now is our chance!” Will exclaimed; and the three ran to the gate and
entered the garden. There was no one in sight; evening was coming on, and
any men who might have been working in the garden had left. They closed
the gate behind them and turned the key in the lock, then ran into a
shrubbery and threw themselves down. They trusted that in the confusion
their absence would not be noticed, and this seemed to be the case, for
they heard loud orders given and then all was quiet.
“So far so good,” Will said. “The first step is taken, and the most
difficult one. To-morrow, when the gardeners come, we will spring upon
three of them and bind them. I should not think that there will be more
than that.”
Fortune favoured them, however, for an hour later three servants came
along, laughing and talking together. The sailors prepared to act, and as
the men passed their hiding-place Will gave the word, and, leaping out
upon them, they hurled them to the ground. Tom and Dimchurch both stunned
their men, and then aided Will to secure the one he had knocked down.
Without ceremony they stripped off the clothes of the fallen men, tore up
their own rags, and bound the captives securely, shoving a ball of the
material between the teeth of each, and then secured them to three trees a
short distance apart.
“That is good,” said Will, as they put on the servants’ clothes; “they are
safe till they are found in the morning. In these clothes we can boldly
venture out from the town gate as soon as it is opened. There is always
the risk that our colour may betray us, but we are all burnt nearly as
dark as mahogany and may very well pass.”
“Shall we start now, sir?”
“No, they will find out when they get to the prison that we are missing,
and there will be a keen hunt for us. And now I come to think of it, the
guards at the gate will be warned of our escape, and will probably
question us, particularly as these bright-coloured garments would attract
their attention. I really think our best plan would be to go out into the
town at once and try to get hold of other disguises.”
“It would be a good thing if we could do so, sir.”
“Dear me, how stupid I am!” exclaimed Will after a pause. “You know that
wall we were repairing to-day? It was only about fourteen feet above the
ground outside, so we should have no difficulty in dropping down.”
“That is so, sir. It is an easy drop, and by leaving in that way we’ll
avoid being questioned, and get well away before the alarm is given.”
“Then we will lose no time,” said Will. “We have to pass through a busy
quarter, but if we go separately we shall attract no notice, though no
doubt by this time the search will have begun. They will be looking,
however, for three men together. Of course they will not so much as cast
an eye upon the servants of this palace, for they will know nothing of our
doings here till to-morrow morning. I will go first when we get into the
street. You, Dimchurch, follow me forty or fifty yards behind, and Tom the
same distance behind you.”
“I hardly think they will be in search of us yet,” Dimchurch said. “It is
little more than an hour since we escaped, and they won’t find out till
they get to the prison and count the gang. When they have done that they
would have to see who it was that was missing, and then they would take
some time to organize the search.”
“That is so, Dimchurch; still, we will take every precaution.”
So saying they started. When they were half-way to the wall they saw a
number of soldiers and convict guards come running along, questioning many
people as they passed. They trembled lest they should be discovered, but
fortunately no question was put to any of them, and they kept on their
way. Presently Will emerged upon the open space of ground between the wall
and the houses, and when Dimchurch and Tom had come up they went together
along the foot of the wall until they came to the place where they had
been working.
“Keep your eyes open,” Will said as they climbed up, “there are crowbars
and hammers lying about, and, where the stone-cutters were working,
chisels. A crowbar or a heavy hammer is a weapon not to be despised.”
In a few minutes each was armed with a chisel and a light crowbar. They
then went to the edge of the wall, and, throwing these weapons down,
lowered themselves as far as they could reach and dropped to the ground.
“Thank God we are out of that place!” Will said fervently; “we won’t enter
it again alive. Now, the first thing is to get as far away as possible,
keeping as nearly parallel to the line of the coast as we can, but four or
five miles back, for we may be sure that when they cannot find us in the
town they will suspect that we have made for the coast, and a dozen
horsemen will be sent out to look for us along the shore. It is no use our
thinking of trying to get to sea until the search has been given up. Our
principal difficulty will be to live. From the walls the country looked
well cultivated in parts, and even if we have to exist on raw grain we
shall not be much worse off than when we were in prison.”
“I don’t care what it is,” Tom said, “so long as there is enough of it to
keep us alive; but we must have water.”
“I don’t think there will be much difficulty about that, Tom, as every one
of the houses scattered over the plain will have wells and fountains in
their gardens. Thank goodness, they won’t miss any we take, and we could
go every night and fetch water without exciting any suspicion that we had
been there!”
“One of the first things we must do,” said Will, “is to dirty these white
jackets and trousers so that we may look like field labourers, for then if
anyone should catch sight of us in the distance we should attract no
attention.”
They walked all night, and just as morning was breaking they saw a large
country house with the usual garden. They climbed over the wall, which was
not high, and drew some water in a bucket which they found standing at the
mouth of the well.
“This bucket we will confiscate,” Will said; “we can hardly lie hidden all
day without having a drink. Of course they will miss it; but when they
cannot find it they will suppose that it has been mislaid or stolen. One
of the gardeners will probably get the blame, but we can’t help that. Now
we will go another mile and then look for a hiding-place. There are a lot
of sand-hills scattered about, and if we can’t find a hole that will suit
us we must scoop one out. I believe they are pretty hard inside, but our
crowbars will soon make a place large enough.”
After an hour’s walk they fixed upon a spot on the shady side of a hill
and began to make a cave that would allow the three to lie side by side.
The work was completed in less than an hour, and they crawled in and
scraped up some of the fallen sand so as partially to close the mouth
behind them.
“Thank goodness, we have got shelter and water!” Will said. “As for food,
we must forage for it to-night.”
“I am quite content to go without it for to-day,” Dimchurch said, “and to
lie here and sleep and do nothing. I don’t think anything would tempt me
to get up and walk a mile farther, not even the prospects of a good
dinner.”
“Well, as we are all so tired we shall probably sleep till evening.”
In a few minutes all were asleep. Once or twice in the course of the day
they woke up and took a drink from the bucket and then fell off again. At
sunset all sat up quite refreshed.
“I begin to feel that I have an appetite,” Will said; “now I think, for
to-night, we will content ourselves with going into one of the fields and
plucking a lot of the ears of maize. Messages may have been sent out all
over the country, and the people may be watchful. It will be wise to avoid
all risk of discovery. We can gather a few sticks and make a fire in there
to roast the maize; there are sand-hills all round, so what little flame
we make would not be noticed.”
“But how about a light?” Dimchurch asked.
“I picked up a piece of flint as we came along this morning,” Will said,
“and by means of one of these chisels we ought to be able to strike a
light; a few dead leaves, finely crumbled up, should do instead of
tinder.”
“It is a good thing to keep one’s eyes open,” Dimchurch remarked. “Now if
I had seen that piece of stone I should not have given it a thought, and
here it is going to give us a hot dinner!”
As there were numbers of fields in the neighbourhood they soon returned
with an armful of maize each. Dried weeds and sticks were then collected,
and after repeated failures a light was at last obtained, and soon the
grain was roasted. A jacket was stretched across the entrance of their den
so that, should anyone be passing near, they would not observe the light.
“Now,” Will said as they munched some maize the next evening, “we must
start foraging. We will go in opposite directions, and each must take his
bearing accurately or we’ll never come together again.”
They were out for some hours, and when they returned it was found that
Will had come across four fowls, Tom had gathered a variety of fruit,
consisting chiefly of melons and peaches, while Dimchurch, who was the
last to come in, brought a small sheep.
“We only want one thing to make us perfect,” Will said, “and that is a
pipe of ’bacca.”
“Well, that would be a welcome addition,” Tom admitted, “but it does not
do to expect too much. I should not be at all surprised if we were to
light upon some tobacco plants in one of the gardens, but of course it
could hardly be like a properly dried leaf. I dare say, though, we could
make something of it.”
So they lived for a month, sometimes better, sometimes worse, but with
sufficient food of one sort or another. So far as they knew no suspicion
of their presence had been excited, though their petty robberies must have
been noticed. One evening, however, Will, on going to the top of the
sand-hill, as he generally did, saw a large detachment of soldiers coming
along, searching the ground carefully. He ran down at once to his
companions.
“Take your weapons, lads,” he said, “and make off; a strong party of
soldiers are searching the country, and they are coming this way. No doubt
they are looking for us.”
They had run but a few hundred yards when they heard shouts, and, looking
round, they saw a Moorish officer waving his hands and gesticulating. This
was alarming, but they reckoned that they had fully five hundred yards
start.
“Keep up a steady pace,” Will said; “I don’t expect the beggars can run
faster than we can. It will be pitch dark in half an hour, and as,
fortunately, there is no moon, I expect we’ll be able to give them the
slip.”
As they advanced they found that the vegetation became scarcer and
scarcer.
“I am afraid we are on the edge of a desert,” Will said, “which means that
there are no more fowls and fruit for us. I see, Dimchurch, that you have
been the most thoughtful this time. That half sheep and those cakes will
be very valuable to us.”
“I wasn’t going to leave them for the soldiers if I knew it, sir; they
wouldn’t have gone far among them, while they will last us some time with
care.”
They changed their course several times as soon as it became quite dark,
and presently had the satisfaction of hearing the shouts of their pursuers
fade away behind them.
“Now we can take it quietly, lads. We can guide ourselves towards the sea
by means of the stars. I fancy it must be fully twenty miles away. We must
hold on till we get to it, and then gradually work our way along among the
sand-hills or clumps of bush bordering it till we come to a village. Then
we must contrive to get a good supply of food and water, steal a boat, and
make off. If galleys were sent out to search for us they must have given
it up long ago. As for other craft, we’ll have to take our chance with
them.”
They kept steadily north and at last came down to the coast. As it was
still dark they lay down till morning. When the sun rose they thought they
could make out a village some eight miles away.
“Now it will be quite safe to cook our breakfast,” Dimchurch said.
“Yes, I think so,” Will answered, “but we must be sparing with the mutton;
that is our only food at present, and it may be some little time before we
get hold of anything else.”
After breakfast they lay down among the bushes and slept till evening.
Then they started along the shore towards the village. When they got
within half a mile of it they halted. They could see some boats on the
shore, so they felt that the only difficulty in their way was the question
of provisions. When it was quite dark they went into the village and
started to forage, but on meeting again they had very little to show.
Between them they had managed to take five fowls; but the village was
evidently a poor place, for with the exception of a few melons there was
no fruit.
“The beggars must have grain somewhere,” said Will. “They can’t live on
fowls and melons.”
“I expect, sir, they live very largely on fish.”
“That is likely enough,” Will agreed. “Let us put down these fowls and
melons under this bush, and have a nap for a couple of hours, till we are
sure that everyone is asleep. We can then go down and have a look at the
boats. Those of them that come in late may probably leave some of their
catch on board.”
When they went down to the boats they found that three of them contained a
fair quantity of fish. They helped themselves to some of these, and then
retreated some distance from the village, picking up the other provisions
on the way, and then, going into a clump of bushes, cooked a portion of
the fish.
“That pretty well settles the question of provisions,” Will said. “We must
choose a night when there is a good wind blowing offshore, so that we may
run a good many miles before morning. Then we must trust to falling in
with one of our cruisers.”
“Fish won’t keep long in this climate,” suggested Tom.
“No,” said Will, “but we can dry some of them in the sun and they will
then keep good for some time. Then we might clean half a dozen fowls and
cook them before we start.”
“The great difficulty will be water.”
“Yes, but we can get over that by stripping the gardens clean of their
melons. They weigh four or five pounds apiece and would supply us with
fluid for a week easily.”
The next evening they went down and made a more careful examination of the
boats. One in particular attracted their attention. She was nearly new,
and looked likely to be faster than the rest. She was anchored some fifty
yards from the shore. Three more evenings were spent in prowling about the
village collecting food. It was evident that the villagers were alarmed at
their depredations, for on the third evening they were fired at by several
men. In consequence of this they moved a mile farther away, in case a
search should be made, and the next night carried the provisions down to
the shore. As they were all expert swimmers they were soon alongside the
chosen craft. They pushed the provisions before them on a small raft, and
when they had put them on board they made a trip to one or two of the
other boats and brought away some twenty pounds of fish. Then they cut the
hawser and hoisted sail. As they did so they heard a great tumult on
shore, and the villagers ran down to the water’s edge and opened fire upon
them. The shooting, however, was wild, and they were very soon out of
range. Several boats put off in pursuit. This caused them some uneasiness,
and they watched them somewhat anxiously, for the wind, though favourable,
was light, and they felt by no means certain that they would be able to
keep ahead of the rowers. The stolen craft, however, proved unexpectedly
fast, and the boats, after following fifteen miles without sensibly
gaining, at last gave up the chase. About this time, too, the wind, to
their great relief, became stronger, and the little vessel flew more and
more rapidly over the sea.
“She is a fine craft,” Dimchurch said; “these Moors certainly know how to
build boats. It would require a smart cutter to hold her own with us.”
Dimchurch kept at the helm and the other two investigated their capture.
She was three parts decked. In the cabin they came upon a lantern and
flint and steel, and soon had light, which helped them greatly in their
work. In the bow ropes were stored away, while in a locker they found some
bread, which, although stale, was very acceptable. They also unearthed two
or three suits of rough sea clothes with which they were glad to replace
the light clothes they had carried away with them from the palace grounds,
for though the weather on shore was warm the sea-breeze was chilly. Among
other useful things they also discovered several long knives, and axes,
and a flat stone for cooking upon.
“Now it is all a question of luck,” Will said; “the danger will be greater
when we get a bit farther out. All vessels going up and down the
Mediterranean give the Barbary coast a wide berth. Of course those pirate
fellows are most numerous along the line of traffic, but they are to be
found right up to the Spanish, French, and Italian coasts, though of late,
I fancy, they have not been so active. There are too many of our cruisers
about for their taste, and the Spaniards, when they get a chance, show the
scoundrels no mercy.”
When morning broke not a sail was visible.
“I think, sir,” Dimchurch said, “that there is going to be a change of
weather, and that we are in for a gale.”
“It does not matter much. I fancy this boat would go through it however
severe it might be.”
“Yes, sir, but it would check our progress, and we want to run north as
fast as we can. I see, by the line you are making, that you are aiming at
Toulon, and at our present pace it would take us something like four days
to get there. If we are caught in a gale we may take two days longer.”
“That is so,” Will agreed; “but on the other hand, if the wind becomes
much stronger we’ll have to take in sail, and in that case we should have
more chance of escaping notice if we come near any of those Moorish craft.
Besides, if the sea were really rough it would be difficult for them to
board us even if they did come up with us.”
“You are right, sir; still, for myself, I should prefer a strong southerly
wind and a clear sky.”
“Well, I am afraid you will not get your wish, for the clouds certainly
seem to be banking up from the north, and we’ll get a change of wind ere
long.”
By night the wind was blowing fiercely and the sea rapidly rising. The
sails were closely reefed, and even then they felt with pleasure that the
little craft was making good way. The wind increased during the night, and
was blowing a gale by morning. Just at twelve o’clock a craft was seen
approaching which all were convinced was an Algerine. She changed her
course at once and bore down upon them, firing a gun as a signal for them
to stop.
“She is rather faster than we are,” Dimchurch said, “but we’ll lead her a
good dance before she gets hold of us. She could not work her guns in this
sea, and if she is the faster, at least we are the handier.”
For three hours the chase continued. Again and again the Algerine came up
on them, but each time the little boat, turning almost on her heel, so
cleverly was she handled, glided away from underneath the enemy’s bows.
Each time, when they saw the chase slipping away from them, the angry
Moors sent a volley of musketry after her, but the fugitives took refuge
in the cabin, or lay down on the deck close under the bulwarks, and so
escaped.
Soon the Moors were so intent on the chase that they began to take great
risks with their own vessel. In fact, they became positively reckless. For
this they paid very heavily. After many disappointments they felt that the
fugitives were at last in their clutches, and were preparing to board her
when suddenly Dimchurch put down his helm sharply. He nearly capsized the
little craft, and indeed they would rather have gone down with her than
fall into the hands of the Moors again, but she righted immediately, and
once more skimmed away from her pursuers. In the excitement of the moment
the Moorish steersman attempted the same manœuvre. If he had succeeded he
would probably have run down the cockle-shell that had baffled him so
long. But at that moment a violent squall struck his ship with its full
force, and her mainmast snapped a few feet above the deck. The three
fugitives jumped to their feet and cheered, and then calmly proceeded on
their way.