Breathless and faint from their tremendous exertions, the knights
removed their helmets.
“By St. Mary,” Sir Louis said, “this has been as hard a fight as I have
ever been engaged in, and well may we be content with our victory! Well
fought, my brave comrades! Each of these vessels must have carried twice
our number at least, and we have captured four of them; but I fear the
cost has been heavy.”
Seven knights had fallen, struck down by sword, arrow, or thrust of
spear. Of the rest but few had escaped unwounded, for, strong as was
their armour, the keen Damascus blades of the Moslems had in many cases
cut clean through it, and their daggers had found entry at points where
the armour joined; and, now that the fight was over, several of the
knights sank exhausted on the deck from loss of blood.
But the dressing of wounds formed part of a knight of St. John's
training. Those who were unwounded unbuckled the armour and bandaged the
wounds. Others fetched wine and water from the galley. The chains of the
galley slaves were removed, and these were set to clear the decks of the
Moslem corpses. The anchors were dropped, for what little wind there
was drifted them towards the shore. They had learned from a dying pirate
that the vessels were part of the fleet of Hassan Ali, a fact that added
to the satisfaction felt by the knights at their capture, as this man
was one of the most dreaded pirates of the Levant. They learnt that he
himself had not been present, the expedition being under the command of
one of his lieutenants, who had fallen in the fight.
“Now, comrades, let us in the first place take food; we have not broken
our fast this morning. Then let us consider what had best be done, for
indeed we have got as much in our hands as we can manage; but let us
leave that till we eat and drink, for we are faint from want of food
and from our exertions. But we shall have to eat what comes to hand, and
that without cooking, for our servants all joined the pirates when they
boarded us, and are either dead or are ashore there.”
A meal was made of bread and fruit, and this with wine sufficed to
recruit their energies.
“It seems to me, comrades,” Sir Louis said, when all had finished, “that
the first thing is to search the holds of these vessels and see what
valuables are stored there. These may be all carried on board one ship,
and the others must be burnt, for it is clear that, as there are four of
them, we cannot take them to Rhodes; and even with one and our galley
we should fare but ill, if we fell in with two or three more of Hassan's
ships.”
“But how about the pirates on shore, Sir Louis?” a knight asked. “There
were very many who could not get off to their ships during the fight,
and scores must have swum ashore. I should say that there must be full
two hundred, and it will be a grievous thing for the islanders if we
leave them there.”
“It is certain,” the commander said, “that we are not strong enough
to attack them, for were we to land, a party would have to be left on
board, or the pirates might elude our search, seize some fishing boats,
and regain possession. Certainly, we are in no position to divide our
forces.”
“Methinks,” Sir John Boswell said, “that the best plan would be to send
a boat, manned with ten galley slaves, taking two or three of us to the
rendezvous, to fetch hither the other two galleys. With their aid we
might take all the four ships safe into port, after first clearing the
island of these pirates. It is but forty miles away, and eight hours'
rowing would take us there.”
There was a general murmur of assent, for all wished that the trophies
of their bravery should, if possible, be carried to Rhodes.
“That will certainly be the best plan, Sir John, though it may detain us
here for two or three days, or even more, for it is quite uncertain when
the other two galleys may put in at the rendezvous. Will you yourself
undertake the mission?”
“With pleasure.”
“How many will you take with you?”
“Two will be sufficient, for we shall have no fighting to do, as we
shall have to trust to our speed if we fall in with an enemy. I will
take, with your permission, Sir Ralph Harcourt and Sir Gervaise Tresham,
both of whom have today fought with distinguished bravery. Indeed, I
owe my life to them, for more than once, when I was hotly pressed, they
freed me from my assailants. Truly none bore themselves better in the
fray than they did.”
Three or four others joined in hearty commendations of the two young
knights.
“Indeed,” one said, “I was greatly surprised to see how Tresham bore
himself. He is but a lad, with scarce, one would think, strength to hold
his own in such a fray. It chanced that he was next to me in the circle,
and for a time I kept my eye on him, thinking he might require my aid;
but I soon saw that I need not trouble myself on his account, for he
wielded his weapon as doughtily as the best knight of the Order could
have done, and one of the proofs is that, while most of us bear marks of
the conflict, he has escaped without scratch. I trust, Sir Louis, that
when you give an account of the fighting you will specially mention that
this, the youngest knight of the Order, bore himself as stoutly as any
of them. I say this, Sir John, because, not being of your langue, I can
speak more warmly than you can do of his skill and bravery.”
“I thank you, De Boysey,” Sir John Boswell said, “and I am proud that
my young countryman should have so gained your approbation. And now,”
he went on, “while the galley slaves are getting a meal--which they have
right well earned today--I should like to see what there is under the
hatches of these ships, so that I can give our comrades in the other
galleys some idea of the value of this booty we have taken.”
They rose from the table, and, going on board the prizes, lifted the
hatches.
“Beware!” De Boysey exclaimed, looking down into the hold, when the
first hatch was taken off. “There are people below.”
A chorus of cries followed his exclamation.
“They are the voices of women and children,” Sir Louis exclaimed. “They
must be captives.”
This turned out to be so. In the holds of the four ships were found over
a hundred and fifty women and children; these had been brought on board
in the first boat loads by the pirates, and when the Christian galley
had been seen coming round the point, had been thrust below, and the
hatches thrown over them. They had heard the din of battle above, but
knew not how the conflict had terminated, and, being afraid to cry out,
had remained silent until, on the hatch being lifted, they had seen the
figures of Christian knights standing in the bright sunshine. All had
come from the village on the other side of the island. They related how
the pirates had suddenly burst upon them, had slaughtered all the men,
set fire to the village, and had driven them before them across the
island to the ships. The poor creatures were delighted at their escape
from slavery, but at the same time were full of grief at the loss of
husbands, fathers, and sons.
Some laughed, others cried; while some thanked God for their rescue
others heaped imprecations upon the authors of their misfortunes.
The knights explained to them that for a short time they must remain on
board, as half the pirates were still on shore, but that aid would soon
arrive that would enable them to clear the island.
Half an hour later Sir John Boswell, with the two young knights, started
in a rowing boat, manned by ten of the galley slaves. The wind had
sprung up since the fight ceased, and as it was nearly astern, they
anticipated that they would make a good passage, and be at the little
islet, named as the place of rendezvous, before nightfall.
Among the many bales of rich merchandise in the hold of the pirate
vessels an abundance of wine had been discovered, and of this a tankard
had been given to each of the slaves, by Sir Louis's orders, as a token
of satisfaction at their work in the morning.
They had gone some two miles when, from one of the inlets in the island
they had left a large fishing boat was seen to issue out.
“By St. George!” Sir John exclaimed, “that boat must be full of pirates.
And if they see us, which they cannot help doing, and take it in their
heads to chase us, we shall have a hard time of it.”
The fishing boat for a few minutes kept along the coast, and then
suddenly her course was altered, and her head directed towards their
boat.
“Now stretch to your oars,” Sir John, who spoke some Turkish, said to
the slaves. “Keep ahead of that boat, and I promise you, on my honour as
a Christian knight, that I will myself purchase your freedom as soon as
we get to Rhodes.”
With a shout of delight, the galley slaves bent to their oars, and the
boat flew along at a greatly increased speed.
“There is but small chance of our getting away,” Sir John said quietly.
“At present we must be rowing as fast as they sail; but wind never
tires, while there are limits to the powers of muscle and bone. If those
fellows follow us--and I doubt not that they will, for they must be
thirsting for vengeance--they will overtake us long before we get to the
rendezvous; and even did we reach it, the chances are that we should not
find either of the galleys there. We must hold on as long as we can,
and as a last resource must run ashore. Unfortunately there are no large
islands on our way. Nor have we any hope of assistance from our friends
behind. The inlet looks east, and they will know nothing of our danger;
nor, if they did, could they help us. The galley is short handed now,
and there are the captured ships to look after, and the captives we
rescued. We have only ourselves to depend on.”
At the end of an hour's rowing the boat astern had gained little; but
the exertions of the rowers were telling severely upon them. They were
still doing their best, but their breath came in short gasps, the rowing
was getting short and unsteady, and there was a sensible decrease in the
speed of the boat. Three miles ahead of them was an islet about half
a mile in diameter. In some parts it was covered with foliage, but
elsewhere it was bare rock.
“That must be our goal,” Sir John said. “They will be close to us by the
time we get there.” Then he said to the rowers, “Stop for a minute to
get breath. We will land at that islet ahead, and I shall hold to my
promise if we get there in time. Those of you who like can remain in the
boat until your countrymen come up; those who choose can leave the boat
and hide yourselves as best you may. I leave the choice to yourselves.
If we are overtaken and fall, I cannot keep my promise, and it will be
best then for you to remain in the boat.”
For three or four minutes the slaves bent forward over their oars; but
as soon as Sir John gave the word they straightened themselves up and
began rowing again. The rest had done them good, and they again fell
into a long, steady stroke.
“Shall we buckle on our armour again?” Sir Ralph Harcourt asked; for
they had not put it on when they left the ship, as the heat was very
great.
“I think we had better don our mail shirts only. In climbing about that
rock ahead of us, the less weight we carry the better, and with this
heat I would rather fight unprotected than in casque and armour.
Besides, there can be little doubt that, if they come upon us, it will
be our last battle. That craft behind is crowded with men, and, armour
or no armour, it will come to the same in the end. If it were not that
we have a mission to fulfil, and that it is of all things important to
send the galleys to aid our friends, I would say let us choose a spot
at the foot of the rocks there, where they cannot attack us in the rear,
and there fight it out as becomes knights of the Cross; but as it is our
duty above all things to carry this message, we must strive to preserve
our lives, and must, if we can, conceal ourselves from these paynims.”
“What are you going to do?” Sir John asked the slaves, when they were
within a quarter of a mile of the islet. “I should think, after we have
left the boat, it will be best for you to sit quietly on your benches
till our pursuers arrive.”
“They would cut our throats at once, Sir Knight; they will be furious at
our having given them so long a chase. Hassan Ali's men care little whom
they slay, and, irritated by their misfortune, it will be naught to them
whether we are Moslem or Christian. I, for one, shall take to the woods,
and hide.”
There was a chorus of assent among the other rowers.
“I trust that you may escape,” the knight said. “It is for us they
will be hunting, and if they catch and slay us they will not trouble to
search the island further.”
“It seems to me, Sir John,” Gervaise said, “that with the aid of these
good fellows we may yet have a chance of escape.”
“What is your plan, Sir Gervaise?”
“I think, Sir John, that if, when we land, we climb straight up that
hill, in full sight of the shore, the pirates, when they see us, will
follow at once. The slaves should, therefore, be safe for a time if they
hide in that wood to the left of the spot we are making for. Will you
tell them to keep down by the water's edge among the bushes, and that
after crossing that crest, we will try to make a dash round, so as to
join them there. 'Tis probable that most of the pirates will start in
pursuit of us, and if we and the slaves make a rush for the shore we may
seize our boat, push off, and capture their craft, if there are but
a few left on board, knock out a plank and scuttle her, and then row
away.”
“By St. George, your plan is a good one, Tresham! A right good scheme,
and we will try it.”
He at once translated what Gervaise had said to the rowers, by whom
it was received with short exclamations of approval, for they were too
breathless and exhausted for talk. Already they could hear the yells of
the pirates, who, as the boat ran up on the beach were but a quarter of
a mile behind.
“Now, away for that wood!” Sir John cried, as he leapt ashore. “Now,
comrades, for a climb up the hill!”
It was a steep ascent, and more than once one had to be helped up by the
others, and then in turn to assist them to get up beside him. Louder and
louder rose the shouts of the pirates, but the knights did not glance
back until they reached the top of the hill; then they turned and looked
round. A swarm of men were climbing after them, and were already halfway
up the cliff.
“Heave them down!” Sir John exclaimed, pointing to some loose rocks, and
set the example by lifting a great stone and hurling it over the edge.
Harcourt and Gervaise at once did the same, and twenty or thirty rocks
were speedily sent rolling down the steep ascent, and yells, shouts, and
cries were heard below.
“That will check them a bit. Now let us be off,” Sir John Boswell said,
and they at once started. After crossing a hundred yards of bare rock
they stood at the edge of another slope into a deep valley, beyond which
rose the central hill of the island. The valley ran right across,
and was filled with trees extending to the sea at either end. Running
rapidly down, the knights were within the shelter of the wood before the
Moslems had reached the brow behind them. A minute later they heard the
shouts of their enemies. Once in the wood they turned to the left, and
in a few minutes stood on the sea shore. It was a little bay some two
hundred yards across, and at either point the cliffs rose abruptly from
the water.
“We shall have to swim round the point,” Sir John said.
“Take off your mail shirts. We will make our way along the rocks as far
as we can, and then drop them into the sea, otherwise they will know
that we have taken to the water.”
They hurried along the rocks, and were able to make their way to within
fifty yards of the point; then, throwing their mail shirts into the sea,
they plunged in. All knew the importance of getting round before any of
the pirates, who would be searching the valley, came down on the shore,
and they swam their hardest until they rounded the corner. The wood
rang with the shouts of their pursuers, but no yell had risen from the
water's edge. A hundred yards farther, and they were able to land, and
were in a short time in the shelter of the trees that fringed the water
to the point where they had left the boat. There was no longer any
occasion for speed, and they made their way through the thick bushes and
undergrowth quietly, until they recovered breath after their exertions.
They had gone a few hundreds yards when from the bushes the slaves
suddenly rose up.
“All has gone well,” Sir John said to them in their own language. “The
pirates are searching for us on the other side of the hill. There are
not likely to be many of them left here. We shall soon be in possession
of our boat again.”
Followed by the slaves, they made their way forward until they stood at
the edge of the wood. Five or six pirates were standing on the shore.
“I expect they have been left there,” Harcourt said, “to prevent the
slaves from carrying off the boat. They must have seen them run into the
wood. They won't reckon on our being with them.”
Drawing their swords, the three knights rushed out, followed by the
slaves. They had but a hundred yards to run. The pirates, on seeing
them, raised a yell and drew their scimitars; but the sight of the
knights rushing upon them, when they had expected but a few unarmed
rowers, was too much for their courage, and when their assailants were
still fifty yards away they turned and fled. The fishing craft had been
run ashore but a few yards from their boat.
“Get her afloat, Harcourt, and bring her to the stern of the fisherman.
Now, Tresham, follow me.”
Sir John Boswell climbed up on to the fishing boat, which was a craft of
some fifteen tons burden. She was entirely deserted, but the sail still
hung from the yard, and a fire was burning on a stone hearth, raised on
some logs of wood in the centre of the deck.
“Look for something to stave in a plank, Tresham.”
Gervaise leapt down into the hold. There were some nets and spare sails
lying there, but nothing that would answer the purpose. He examined the
planks. The boat was very strongly and roughly built.
“There is nothing here, Sir John, that will do, and nothing short of a
heavy sledge hammer would suffice to smash one of these planks.”
“There are a lot of them coming down the hill, Tresham. We have not many
minutes to spare, but we must disable the craft. They will soon be after
us again; they have run her hard and fast here, but when they all come
back they will soon get her off. Let us try one of these sweeps.”
He lifted one of the heavy oars, and holding it upright he and Gervaise
together tried to drive the handle through the bottom. Again and again
they raised it and drove it down; but the plank was too strong, and too
securely fastened to the timbers.
“We must give it up,” the knight said, with a sigh. “Fortune has
befriended us so far, Tresham, but she has deserted us at last. Another
three minutes, and we shall have thirty or forty of them upon us.”
At this moment the lad's eye fell upon the fire.
“We shall manage yet,” he exclaimed, and, seizing a blazing brand, he
jumped below and set fire to the sails stowed there; they were as dry as
tinder, and the flame shot up at once.
“That is good, Tresham,” the knight said; “but they will put it out
before it has caught the boat.”
“Not before it has burnt the sails,” Gervaise replied. “Now for this
one,” and he applied the brand to the lower edge of the great sail.
Without a word Sir John seized another brand, and fired the sail on the
other side of the deck. The flames flashed up, and a wild yell of rage
and alarm broke from the pirates, who were now rushing down towards the
beach.
“Now to the boat, Tresham; we have no time to lose if we would avoid
being pounded with stones.”
They dropped over the stern into the boat. The galley slaves dipped
their oars into the water, and she shot away just as the foremost of the
pirates reached the edge of the water. A few stones were thrown; but
the pirates were so anxious about the craft, by which alone they could
escape from the island, that the majority at once climbed on board.
At a word from the knight, the slaves stopped rowing a hundred yards
from the shore. The sail was already consumed, and the yard and the
upper part of the mast were in flames. A dense smoke was rising from the
hold, and the pirates were throwing buckets of water down into it. In a
few minutes the smoke decreased.
“I thought that they would be able to put it out; but, as far as we are
concerned, it matters little. They have lost their sails, and as I saw
but four sweeps, we can travel five miles to their one. If we find the
galleys we will look in here on our way back, and if they have not left
we will fire that craft more effectually, and then the pirates will be
trapped, and we can leave them till we have fetched off Sir Louis
and his prizes, and then have a grand hunt here. We took no prisoners
before, and a hundred slaves will be a useful addition to our wall
builders. Now, Tresham, I have to thank you warmly, for Harcourt and I
doubly owe our lives to you. It was thanks to your quickness of wit that
we regained our boat, for I would not have given a ducat for our chances
had you not thought of that scheme. In the second place, we should
assuredly have been overtaken again had it not been for your happy
thought of crippling them by burning their sails. By St. George,
Harcourt, this young countryman of ours is as quick and as ready of wit
as he has shown himself a brave and gallant fighter! We have no lack of
sturdy fighters; but the wit to devise and to seize upon the right thing
in the moment of danger is vastly more rare. As for myself, I have no
shame that this lad, who is young enough to be my son, should have thus,
twice in a single hour, pointed out the way to safety. With sword and
battleaxe I can, I trust, hold my own with any man; but my brain is dull
when it comes to hatching schemes. If we live, we shall see Sir Gervaise
one of the most distinguished knights of the Order.”
“While I feel gratified indeed, as I may well be by your commendation,
Sir John, I must, under your favour, say that you have given me a far
greater degree of credit than is my due. There was the fire, and there
was the sail, and the thought that the one would destroy the other was
simply a natural one, which might have occurred to a child. As to the
plan about the boat, seeing that there was the hill and the wood, it
flashed upon me at once that we might make a circuit and come back to
her.”
“Just so, lad; but those thoughts did not flash upon my mind, nor upon
that of Harcourt. It is just because those sort of ideas do flash upon
the minds of some men, and not of others, that the first rise to the
rank of distinguished commanders, while the others remain simple knights
who would play their part in a charge or in the defence of a breach, but
would be of no account as leaders.
“Now row along steadily, men,” he went on, speaking to the slaves.
“We are still in good time, for it was not an hour from the moment we
touched the island to our departure from it, and much of that time we
have gained by the speed with which you rowed before. At any rate, we
shall make out the island before sunset, and whether we arrive there a
little sooner or later matters little. Harcourt, hand me that wineskin
and a goblet. A draught will do us good after our climb and swim, and
these good fellows will be none the worse for a cup also.”
Inspired with the hope of freedom, the slaves rowed steadily, and the
sun had just set when they entered a little inlet in the rocky isle that
was their place of rendezvous.
“Thanks be to the saints!” Sir John exclaimed, as they reached the
entrance. “There is Santoval's galley.”
There was a stir on board the galley as the boat was seen approaching.
The knights had put on their armour, which they had found still lying
in the boat, the pirates, in their haste to pursue, having left her
unexamined, while those who had remained on guard had abstained from
touching anything until the return of their captain and comrades.
“Whence come you, Sir John, and what is the news? No misfortune has
befallen Ricord's galley, I hope?” the Spanish knight in command
shouted, as the boat came near enough for him to recognize the features
of its occupants.
“All is well,” Sir John shouted back; “but we have taken more prizes
than we can manage, though not without hard fighting. Seven knights have
fallen, and at least ten others will not be able to buckle their armour
on again for some time to come, so I have been sent here to beg your
assistance; and it is well that it should be given speedily, for if more
pirate vessels come up before you join, Ricord and his companions will
be in a sorry plight.”
By this time the boat had reached the side of the galley, and as Sir
John and his two companions stepped on board, the knights crowded
round to hear the details of the news. Exclamations of approval and
satisfaction arose when Sir John related the incidents of the fight, and
told them that the four vessels that had fallen into their hands formed
part of Hassan Ali's fleet.
“That is good news indeed, Boswell,” Don Santoval said; “and I would I
had been there to take part in so gallant a fight. It is well you found
us here, for with four prizes on hand, and with half his strength dead
or disabled, Ricord must be in sore need of aid. We will start tomorrow
morning at daybreak. As all the ships were taken, there is little fear
of any of the other pirates hearing news of what has happened.”
“I don't know,” Sir John replied. “There were, as I told you, some two
hundred pirates left on the island. About half those, we know, seized a
fishing boat and escaped, for they chased us, and we have had as narrow
an escape from death as has ever fallen to my lot, though I have been
in over a score of hard fought battles. The rest may well have taken
another fishing boat and made off also, for we saw several craft along
the shores of the island. If so, they may have made for Hassan Ali's
rendezvous, wherever that may be, just as I made here, and by this time
some of his ships may be on the way there.”
“By St. Anthony, this alters the situation gravely!” Don Santoval said.
“Fellow knights, we must lose no time in going to Ricord's assistance.
The slaves have had a long row today, but they must start on another.
Let them have a good meal to strengthen them, and a cup of wine each.
Whatever their scruples at other times, they never refuse wine when
there is heavy work to be done, knowing full well that a draught of it
helps them mightily in their labours. Your men must have rowed well, Sir
John, to have brought you here so quickly?”
“I have promised them their freedom,” Sir John said; “and they shall
have it, even if I have to pay their value into the treasury. As I told
you, we were hotly pursued, for the craft with her sail went faster than
we with our oars; and, knowing the importance of bringing the news here,
I encouraged them by promising them their freedom, should we get away.
Not only did they row right manfully, but they proved faithful in our
extremity, and, when all seemed lost, stuck to us instead of deserting
and joining the pirates.”
“But how did you get away, Sir John, if their craft outsailed you?”
“I owe my life entirely to the quick wit of my young countryman, Sir
Gervaise Tresham here.” And Sir John then related the incidents of their
adventure on the island, his narrative eliciting warm expressions of
approval from the knights.
“Of course, you will go with us, Boswell?” Don Santoval said, when the
master of the slaves announced that these had eaten their meal, and were
ready.
“I must do so,” Sir John replied. “I want you, on your way, to look in
at that island where we had so narrow an escape, and if we find their
craft still there we can destroy it. The place is directly in our
course; we shall, therefore, lose but little time in looking in. Of
course, they may have gone as soon as they got their vessel afloat,
but it is hardly likely. They would have no idea of my returning with
a galley so soon, and will probably set to to make a dozen more oars
before they start, for she had but four on board, which will scarce
suffice to send her a mile an hour through the water. Therefore, I fancy
they will not put off until tomorrow morning. If that is so, and we
destroy their craft, they will be trapped in the islet, and on our
return we can capture them all. I think of leaving Harcourt and Tresham
in the boat, in order that when Piccolomini's galley comes in, they may
direct him also to join us.”
“He may be in at any moment; we met him three days since. He had
captured a pirate, and sent her off under charge of ten of his knights.
We agreed to meet him this evening; and as he is not here, he will
probably be in the first thing in the morning.”
Gervaise and Harcourt took their places in the boat again. The galley
got up its anchor and started. Just as she reached the mouth of the
inlet another galley rounded the point and nearly ran into her.
“I am going to Ricord's assistance, Piccolomini,” Don Santoval shouted.
“Is it urgent?” the commander of the galley shouted back. “We have had
a very long row, and can go no farther, unless his strait is a very sore
one.”
“No. Come on in the morning. You will hear all the news from a boat
lying two hundred yards astern. Two young English knights are waiting in
her to give you the news. Ricord has made a fine capture. Row on, men.”
And the galley proceeded on her way, while the newcomer proceeded up the
harbour.
Harcourt and Gervaise at once went on board, and the former gave the
Italian commander an account of the battle that had taken place, and
the capture of the four pirate vessels. After the exclamations
of satisfaction by the knights had ceased, he recounted their own
adventures, which were heard with lively interest.
“I hope indeed that Santoval will burn that fishing boat, and that we
shall capture the pirates,” the commander said. “We have need of
more slaves to carry out the works at Rhodes. Now, let us to supper,
gentlemen, and then to sleep. In six hours we will be off again, for if
some more of these villains have escaped and carried the news to Hassan
Ali, our swords may be sorely needed by Ricord and Santoval tomorrow.”