The threat, however, did not appear to affect either the Europeans or
the Egyptian Commander; they went on leisurely with their work of
deliverance, dragging one slave after another out of the black hole,
and placing them on deck, where Dr. Delange attended to the worst
cases. M. de Morin alone, after having exchanged a few words in a
whisper with the Commander, went over the side, descended the rope
ladder attached to it, got into the boat which had brought him, and,
rowed by a couple of men, pulled towards the flotilla.
At length, the last slave was brought on deck; he was still
breathing, and M. Delange managed, in a minute or two, to set him on
his legs again, but of the hundred and twenty beings who had been set
free, eight were suffocated, and defied every effort to restore
animation to them. The remainder were as well as ever, despite their
incarceration.
M. Périères asked himself whether it would not be better to order the
slaves to rush all at once aft and massacre their former masters
before the latter had time to set fire to the powder barrels with the
matches they were seen to hold in their hands. But one glance at the
human crowd surrounding him sufficed to dispel the idea, for he saw
that it consisted of men barely adults, a large proportion of women,
and children of from eight to twelve years old. It would have been
imprudent, in spite of their numbers, to rely upon such allies.
Action, and that too of the most energetic sort possible, must be
taken without any assistance from them. The reis and his men, in
order to rouse themselves to courage and revenge, had just broached a
cask of brandy, and, notwithstanding the precepts of the Koran, which
they, in all probability, habitually set at nought, they were
drinking bumpers of the ardent spirit. There was everything to be
feared from their drunken excitement.
The Egyptian officer saw the danger, and, advancing alone along the
deck, until within about a couple of yards from the barricade, he
addressed the reis, who, though placid enough at the commencement
when he thought he could escape any inspection, was now furious at
seeing himself unmasked, ruined, and exposed to severe punishment.
"You will immediately order your men," said the Commander firmly, "to
put out their portfires, and lay down their arms. In that way alone
will you save your lives, for, if you have not complied in five
minutes' time, I will have the whole lot of you put to death."
"There will be no need for you to put us to death," shouted the reis.
"If your men make a single movement against us, or if they load their
guns, I will set light to the powder, and we will all be blown up
together, you, I, our men, my slaves, and your Egyptians. You have
given me five minutes to surrender," he continued, becoming more and
more excited as he spoke. "I give you three to leave my boat, but
without taking with you one of my slaves. As soon as you have
regained your ship, if you attempt to chase us, there will still be
time to blow myself up, and every man you seek to set free shall
perish with me."
The Egyptian officer shrugged his shoulders, and, turning towards the
Europeans, said—
"Did you understand what he said?"
"Tolerably well," replied M. Périères.
"What is to be done?" asked the officer. "You are my guests, and I am
responsible for your safety. I have no right to expose you to any
risk without your consent."
"Act," said Madame de Guéran, "as you would act if we were not with
you. They are not Frenchmen who would counsel you to allow yourselves
to be intimidated by such brigands as these, or to abandon all these
slaves to their anger and revenge."
"Then, madam, I have but one course to pursue—to make a rush with my
men against that barricade and break through it before those wretches
can get at the powder."
"Do so," simply replied Madame de Guéran.
"And we go with you,' said MM. Périères and Delange to the Captain,
as they took their places by his side.
"And I, too—have I not my revolver?" said a third voice.
It was brave Miss Poles, who, coquette as she was, resolved to enjoy
male society at all hazards.
The Egyptian officer conversed in a low tone with his sailors, giving
them orders, but appearing anxious and ill at ease on seeing their
disinclination to obey him. These sailors, not nearly so well
disciplined as the French, seemed desirous of arguing with their
officer, and trying to make him understand that they would be all of
them exposing themselves to certain death if they attacked the
barricade in accordance with his orders. Indeed, their fears were
reasonable, for the Mussulman reis and his men, more and more excited
every moment, had just unheaded the powder barrels so that a spark
alone was now needed to cause an explosion; and the staves and hoops
of these barrels would be shattered to pieces, and would deal death
on all around.
The position was as critical as could well be imagined—in spite of
the danger of an attack, and its too probably fatal result, the
Egyptian officer, his natural pride being roused, and his _amour-propre_
at stake in the presence of his stranger guests, wished to
lead on his men.
They refused to obey him.
Exasperated by this mutiny, and beside himself with anger, he was
going to fire on his own men, when suddenly, under a cloudless sky,
studded with stars innumerable, and with a moon of marvellous
brightness, an overwhelming shower, a veritable deluge, a sort of
water-spout burst upon the deck of the vessel.
The occurrence appeared almost phenomenal; in reality it was very
simple. M. de Morin, it will be remembered, had, about a quarter-of-an-hour
previously, left the boat for the "Khedive," bearing an order
for the steamer to close up. Whilst this manoeuvre was being carried
out, he was anxiously watching every movement of the Mussulman, and
he began to tremble for his friends. His fears suggested to him a
happy thought, almost an inspiration. He at once ordered the fire
pump, which is to be found on board all men-of-war, to be manned, and
told the sailors to play upon the after part of the slaver. This
order was executed, and in a moment barricade, men, and powder were
all inundated.
Thanks to M. de Morin, who, doubtless, remembered the way in which
Marshal Lobau, in 1832, quelled a rising in Paris, the situation was
changed, and there was no longer anything to fear from the reis or
his men.
The sailors of the "Khedive" rushed on them, and had them bound in a
very short time.
But what was to be done with the slaves? That was a somewhat
difficult question to answer. If they were left in possession of the
boat they would be incapable of managing her, and would inevitably
run her ashore, and, in all probability, perish. If, on the other
hand, they were to be landed on the banks of the White Nile, they
would run a great risk of again being made prisoners.
On questioning some of the poor creatures, it was discovered that the
majority belonged to the tribes bordering on the Bahr-el-Ghazal, or
Gazelle River. Taken captive by Moflo, the powerful chief of the
Niam-Niam territory, who was annually accustomed to make razzias on a
large scale amongst the neighbouring tribes, they had been sold some
months previously to slave dealers.
As soon as she was made acquainted with these details, Madame de
Guéran resolved to take charge of the liberated slaves, as they
belonged to the districts through which she intended to pass. She
ordered Nassar to take the new arrival in tow, and the little
flotilla, following in the wake of the steamer, was thus augmented by
another sail.
On their return to the "Khedive," the band of Europeans lost no time
in thanking M. de Morin for the service he had rendered them, whilst
the Commander ordered the slave dealers to be put in irons and lodged
in the hold, intending to bring them up before General Baker for
trial.
It was not until an hour past midnight that the flotilla resumed its
voyage up the White Nile, hugging the western bank, whence in the
clear moonlight could be distinctly seen Arrache-Kol, an abrupt and
rugged mountain, which seemed to spring up from the flat plains
surrounding it. The river being both wide and deep, rapid progress
was made, and the silence of the night was broken only by the noise
of the "Khedive's" engines, and the continuous snoring, a rumbling
sound, of the numerous hippopotami sleeping near the banks of the
river. From time to time were mingled with these noises, the distant
cries of some animal attacked by hyænas, and the occasional roaring
of a lion, who thus saluted the flotilla as it passed on.
M. de Morin and Périères, their nerves still under the influence of
the past excitement, and charmed by the beauty of the night, gave up
all thoughts of sleep, and walked up and down the deck, listening
intently to every sound that ushered in a world entirely new to them.
Suddenly, behind the "Khedive," and in the midst of the vessels she
was towing, countless tongues of flame leapt up into the air.
The two watchers, in alarm and dismay, called on the officer of the
watch, and he speedily discovered that the slave boat which had just
been added to the flotilla was on fire.
The steamer was at once stopped, the boats were lowered, and the
sailors on watch were speedily afloat.