"After all, you run little risk, as you shall see. When I asked the
Dey, with whom I am familiar, for the pardon of the slave Sommers, he
did not seem pleased, and objected that there had been too many revolts
of late; that this man's case was a bad one, and that it was necessary
to make an example or two.
"`Very true, your highness,' I replied, `but may I beg you to make an
example of some other slaves, and forgive Sommers?'
"`Why do you take so much interest in this man?' demanded the Dey, who
seemed to me rather short in his temper at the time.
"`Because he is the father of one of my female slaves, your highness,' I
replied; `and it is the fear that they will be separated for ever that
makes the man desperate and the girl miserable. If you will permit me,
I should like to reunite them. Your highness has often expressed a wish
to do me some kindness for the privilege I once had of saving your
highness's life. Will you now refuse me this man's life?' `Nay, I will
not refuse you, Ben-Ahmed. But I do not see that my granting your
request will reunite the father and child, unless, indeed, you are
prepared to purchase the man.'
"`I am prepared to do so, your highness,' I said.
"`In that case you are at liberty to go to the Bagnio and take him out.
Here is my ring.'
"Now, Foster," continued the Moor, drawing the ring in question from his
vest-pocket, "take this. Show it to the captain of the guard at the
Bagnio, who will admit you. Tell him that I sent you for one of the
slaves. After that your own intelligence must guide you. Go, and God
go with you."
"I will do as you command, Ben-Ahmed," said Foster; "but I must tell you
frankly that I will not--"
"Silence!" thundered the Moor, with a look of ferocity which the amazed
midshipman could not account for. "Have you not understood me?"
"Yes, sir, perfectly, but--"
"When a slave receives a command," cried Ben-Ahmed in rising wrath, "it
is his duty to obey in silence. Again I say--go!"
The middy bowed with feelings of indignation, but on reaching the door
paused, and again essayed to speak.
"I give you fair warning, Ben-Ahmed, that I will _not_--"
"Silence!" again roared the Moor, seizing an ornamental box and hurling
it violently at his slave, who, dipping his head, allowed it to go
crashing against the wall, while he went out and shut the door.
"Well, old boy, I'm absolved from any allegiance to _you_," he muttered,
as he walked smartly down the garden walk towards the gate; "so if I do
a good deal more than your bidding you mustn't be surprised. But your
sudden burst of anger is incomprehensible. However, that's not my
business now."
Had any one been there to observe the Moor after the middy had taken his
departure, he would have seen that the passion he had displayed
evaporated as rapidly as it had arisen, and that he resumed the amber
mouthpiece of his hookah with a peculiar smile and an air of calm
contentment. Thereafter he ordered out his horse, mounted it in his
usual dignified manner, and quietly rode away into the darkness of the
night.
It may be observed here our middy had improved greatly in the matter of
costume since his appointment to the rank of limner to Ben-Ahmed. The
old canvas jacket, straw hat, etcetera, had given place to a picturesque
Moorish costume which, with the middy's fine figure and natural bearing,
led people to suppose him a man of some note, so that his appearance was
not unsuited to the mission he had in hand.
We need scarcely say that his spirit was greatly agitated, as he walked
towards the town, by uncertainty as to how he ought to act in the
present emergency, and his mind was much confused by the varied, and, to
some extent, inexplicable incidents of the evening. His thoughts
crystallised, however, as he went along, and he had finally made up his
mind what to do by the time he passed the portals Bab-Azoun and entered
the streets of Algiers.