William Neave, the governor of the prison, looked astonished indeed
when, upon his opening the door, the grand master and the bailiff of
the English langue, with the twelve knights behind them, entered. He had
been puzzled when, four days before, he had received an order from
the grand master that Ahmet, a servitor in the auberge of the English
langue, should be permitted to pass the night in his house, with
authority to move freely and without question, at any hour, in the
courtyard of the gaol, and to depart at any hour, secretly and without
observation, by the private gate. Still more had he been surprised when
he received the message that the grand master would pay him a secret
visit at eleven o'clock at night.
“Let no word be spoken until we are in your apartments,” D'Aubusson said
in a low voice, as he entered. “But first lead four of these knights and
post them so that none can enter the gaol from the house. If there are
more than four doors or windows on that side, you must post a larger
number. It is imperative that there shall be no communication whatever
between your servants and the gaol.”
As soon as this was done, the rest of the party were taken to the
governor's rooms.
“I can now explain to you all,” the grand master said, “the reason of
our presence here. I have learned that at twelve tonight there will be
a general rising of the slaves in this prison, and that, aided by
treachery, they will free themselves from their fetters, overpower and
slay such of the guards in their rooms as have not been bribed, throw
open the gates, make their way down to the port, burn all the shipping
there, and make off in the six galleys manned by them, having first
overpowered the sentries in the three forts commanding the entrance, and
spiked the guns.”
Exclamations of astonishment burst from the knights, who now, for the
first time, learnt the reason of their being called out. The governor
listened with an expression of stupefaction.
“With all deference to your Highness,” he said hesitatingly, “it seems
to me that some one must have been deceiving you with this tale. It is
altogether incredible that such a plot should have been hatched without
a whisper of the matter coming to my ears. It could only be possible
were there, not one but many, traitors among the officials; if this is
so, then indeed am I a dull ass, and unfit for my duty here, of which
I shall pray you to relieve me, and to order such punishment as the
council may deem just to be allotted to me for having so signally been
hoodwinked.”
“My news is sure,” the grand master said; “but I deem not that you are
in any way to blame in the matter. The plot has been matured, not as
a consequence of any laxity of discipline in the prison, but from
deliberate treachery, against which no mortal being can guard. The
traitors are two of the officials who, being members of the Order, none
would suspect of connivance in such a deed. With them are several--I
know not how many--under officials, warders, and guards; all these have
been bribed by an emissary from Constantinople, now in the town, and
who is doubtless furnished with large means. It is well, indeed, for the
Order, that this terrible act of treachery has been discovered in time
to prevent the plot from coming to a head, for the loss of all our
galleys, to say nothing of the disgrace of having been thus bearded by
slaves, would be a very heavy blow to it.
“Now that the house is safely guarded, William Neave, you can admit
the rest of the knights, who are waiting outside. Then you will, in the
first place, conduct a party, and post them so that they may arrest,
as they come out to perform their share of the work, all officials,
warders, and guards, of whatever rank. When you have posted knights to
carry out this--and I need not say that the operation must be performed
as silently as possible, for it is above all things necessary that
the men concerned shall have no suspicion that their plot has been
discovered--you will conduct other parties to the various rooms occupied
by the slaves. The guards on duty inside will be made prisoners. The
doors will then be locked and barred as before. The appearance of the
knights and the arrest of the guards will be sufficient to show the
slaves that their plot has been discovered, and there will be no fear of
their making any attempt to carry it into execution. I will myself post
the main body of the knights in the courtyard. The arrest of the guards
is to be carried out at once, as all those not concerned in the plot
would be killed when the hour comes for the rising. Therefore this part
of the business must be carried out immediately. I should not, however,
lead the guards away to a cell, for the less tramping of feet the
better. Therefore I shall place two knights in each room, and beg them
to remain inside in charge until the traitors outside are secured.”
The knights outside were now marched up. The grand master ordered half
those of Auvergne to go round to the main gate, which would be opened
for them by the governor; they were to enter quietly, and remain in a
body close to it until they received further orders. Sir John Kendall
told off the rest of the knights to the various duties of watching the
houses occupied by the officials and warders, and of entering the prison
rooms and remaining in them on guard. The governor, with his private
servants, bearing a supply of torches, was to lead them to the various
cells, and unlock the doors. The knights were enjoined to move as
noiselessly as possible, and to avoid all clashing of arms against
armour.
The governor produced a number of cloths intended to be served out to
the slaves. Strips of these were cut off and wrapped round the feet of
the English knights, so as to deaden the sound of their boots on the
stone pavement. Then, accompanied by the grand master and Sir John
Kendall, he went the round of the cells.
In some of these the slaves were found standing up in an attitude of
eager expectation, which, as the door opened, and the light of the
torches showed a party of knights, changed into one of terror and
consternation. Scarce a word was spoken. The guard was ordered to
lay down his arms, and to take one of the torches. Two knights placed
themselves, one on each side of him, with drawn swords. The door was
again locked and barred, and the party proceeded to the next cell. In
less than a quarter of an hour this part of the work was finished,
and D'Aubusson, Sir John Kendall, and the governor, then took up their
station with a party of knights who, concealed behind a buttress, were
watching the doors of the officials' houses.
Ten minutes later one of these doors was heard to open, and five dark
figures came noiselessly out. They were allowed to go a short distance,
in order to see if any others followed; but as no others came out, the
governor stepped forward.
“Whither are you going, at this time of night?” he asked. There was a
momentary pause, a few hasty words were exchanged, then the five men
rushed towards him with bared swords or knives; but before they reached
him the knights poured out from their hiding place.
“We are betrayed,” one of the men shouted in Turkish. “Fight to the
last. Better be killed than tortured and executed.” With a yell of fury
and despair, they rushed upon the knights. So desperate was their attack
that the latter were forced to use their swords, which indeed, burning
with rage at the treachery of these men, they were not backward in
doing, and in less than a minute the five traitors lay, with cloven
heads, dead on the pavement.
“It is as well so,” D'Aubusson said, looking sternly down upon them;
“perhaps better so, since it has saved us the scandal of their trial.
We might have learned more from them, but we have learnt enough, since,
doubtless, they have no accomplices among the warders, or they would
have been with them. Now we will deal with the arch traitors. There is
no need for further concealment; the noise of this fray will assuredly
have been heard by them, for they will be listening for the sounds that
would tell them the slaves had been liberated.”
Followed by the knights, he went to the door of the house occupied
by the overseers, all of whom were members of the lower branch of the
Order. It was indeed evident that an alarm had been given there, for
lights appeared at the windows. As they opened the door and entered the
hall, several half-dressed men rushed down the stairs with drawn swords,
two of them carrying torches in their left hands. As the light fell
upon the figures of the grand master and the knights, they paused in
astonishment.
“There is treachery at work in the prison,” D'Aubusson said quietly. “I
pray you to collect your comrades and to assemble here at once.”
In a minute or two some twenty officials were gathered in the hall.
“Are all here?” D'Aubusson asked the governor.
The latter counted the men.
“There are two short,” he said--“Pietro Romano and Karl Schumann. They
occupy the same room. Go and fetch them down, four of you.”
The four men nearest to the stairs at once went up with two torches.
They returned in a minute.
“The door is fastened on the inside, and we can obtain no response.”
“Fetch an axe and break it in,” the grand master ordered. “Sir John
Boswell, do you, with some other knights, take post without; they may
attempt to escape by the window, though, as we hold the gates, it would
avail them little. Sir Gervaise Tresham, do you follow us.”
Gervaise, who had been placed with the party watching the house,
followed the grand master and governor upstairs. A few blows with an axe
splintered the door; its fastenings gave way, and they entered the room.
The window was open, and two figures lay prostrate on the ground near
it.
“I half expected this,” the grand master said. “They were listening
there. The conflict in the yard told them that the plot had been
discovered, and as they saw us approaching the house, they dared not
meet the punishment of their crimes, and have fallen by their own
daggers. Put a torch close to their faces. Sir Gervaise, do you
recognise in either of these men the official you saw in conversation
with the Greek?”
Gervaise stepped forward and examined the men's faces.
“This is the man,” he said, pointing to one of them. “I marked him so
closely that I cannot be mistaken.”
“That is Pietro Romano,” the governor said; “he was an able officer,
but discontented with his position and given to quarrelling with his
comrades.”
“Have a hole dug and bury them in the prison,” D'Aubusson said; “they
have been false to their vows, and false to their religion. They have
chosen their own mode of death; let them be buried like dogs, as they
are. But let a careful search be made of their garments and of this
room. It may be that they have some documents concealed which may be of
use to us.”
The grand master then descended to the hall.
“Members of the Order,” he said to the overseers, “your guilty
companions have met death by their own hands, as the others concerned
in this plot have met theirs by the swords of the knights. It were well
that this matter were not spoken of outside the prison. The attempt has
been detected, and has failed; but were it talked of, it might incite
others to repeat the attempt, and possibly with better success. Now,”
he went on, turning to the governor, “our work is done here. Call up
the other warders. Let them take the men now prisoners in the rooms, and
place them in a dungeon. Let fresh men be placed on guard, and let all
the knights gather in the courtyard.”
When this was done, and all the knights again assembled, D'Aubusson
said, “Our work is nearly done, brothers. The traitors are all dead, and
the revolt is at an end. It remains but to capture the author of this
attempt; but I believe he is already in our hands. I have given an
accurate description of him to Da Veschi, who has taken four knights
with him, and they probably will catch him down at the port; if not, he
will be arrested the first thing in the morning. As to the slaves, they
will be so utterly cowed by the discovery, that there will be no fear of
their repeating the attempt. I have ordered the officials of the prison
to say naught in the town of what has taken place. There can, however,
be no concealment among ourselves. I shall, of course, lay the whole
matter before the council. The fact that a strong body of knights has,
at so late an hour, started on some unknown mission is, of course,
already known in the auberges of Auvergne and England. No concealment
of the facts is therefore possible. It is the most serious attempt at a
revolt of the slaves that has ever taken place, and will be a warning
to us that more vigilance must be exercised. As it is, we have only been
saved from the loss of our galleys and slaves by the acuteness of one of
the youngest of our knights, who, in the first place, noted a suspicious
occurrence which would have been passed by without attracting a moment's
thought by ninety-nine out of a hundred men. He laid the matter before
his bailiff, Sir John Kendall, who accepted his offer to disguise
himself as a slave, to enter the prison under circumstances that would
excite no suspicions among the others, and to live and work among them
in order to ascertain whether there was any plot on hand. This task--a
painful one, as you may imagine--he carried out, and for two weeks he
rowed as a galley slave. His lot was as hard as that of the others, for,
as he had reason to believe that some of the officials were concerned in
the plot, it was necessary that all should be kept in ignorance that
he was other than he seemed to be. Thanks to his perfect knowledge of
Turkish, he was able to carry his mission through with complete success,
and to obtain full particulars of the plot we have tonight crushed.
The knight who has performed this inestimable service is Sir Gervaise
Tresham, of the English langue. The action he has performed will be
noted in the annals of the Order as an example of intelligence and of
the extreme of self sacrifice, as well as of courage; for his life would
have been assuredly forfeited had the slaves entertained the slightest
suspicion of his real character.”
There was a murmur of acclamation among the knights. Not one of them but
would have freely risked his life in the service of the Order, but there
were few who would not have shrunk from the idea of living as a slave
among the slaves, sharing their tasks, and subject to the orders of men
of inferior rank and often brutal manners.
The knights now returned to their auberges. It was past midnight, but
at the English house the lamps and flambeaux were lighted in the great
hall. The servitors were called up, wine placed on the table, and the
knights discussed the incidents of the evening.
When the meal had concluded, Sir John Kendall said, “Brother knights,
when the grand master bestowed the honour of secular knighthood upon
this young comrade of ours, he predicted that he would rise to high
distinction in the Order. I think you will all agree with me that the
prediction is already in a fair way of being fulfilled, and that the
services he has rendered to the Order justify us, his comrades of the
English langue, in feeling proud of him. I drink, brothers, to his
health.”
A loud shout rose from the assembled knights, for upon the return of the
party who had been away, the rest of those at the auberge had hastily
robed themselves and descended to the hall to gather the news. When the
shout had died away, and the wine cups were emptied, Gervaise, who was
sitting on Sir John Kendall's right hand, would gladly have retained his
seat, but the bailiff told him that he must say a few words, and after
standing in embarrassed silence for a minute he said, “Sir John Kendall,
and brother knights, I can only say that I am very sensible of the
kindness with which you have been pleased to regard what seems to me
after all to have been a very ordinary affair. I saw a man, whom I knew
to be a stranger in the Island, speaking surreptitiously to a slave,
and afterwards saw him conversing with a prison officer. That naturally
struck me as curious, and I followed the officer, to see to which prison
he belonged. Any one would have thought, as I did, that such a thing was
strange, if not suspicious, and the only way to find out whether there
was anything in it was to mix with the slaves; as I spoke Turkish
well enough to do so I asked Sir John Kendall's permission to disguise
myself. He gave me every assistance, and I shared their lot for a
fortnight. There was no very great hardship in that--certainly nothing
to merit the praise that Sir John Kendall has been kind enough to bestow
on me. Nevertheless, I am very glad to have gained your good opinion and
very grateful to him and to you for drinking to my health.”
Then he sat down abruptly.
Sir John Kendall now rose, and the knights, following his example,
betook themselves to their dormitories.
The next morning notices were sent by the grand master to the bailiffs
of the auberges, and the knights of the grand cross who happened to
be in the Island, to assemble in council. Messages were also sent to
Gervaise, requesting him to repair at the same hour to the palace, as
the council would probably require his attendance.
“Oh dear! I wish this was all over,” he said to Ralph, as the latter
assisted him to buckle on his armour.
“I don't see anything to sigh about,” Ralph said. “I think that you are
the most fortunate fellow in the world. I do not say that you have not
well deserved it, because it is the tremendous way you worked at Turkish
and gave up everything else that has enabled you to do this. Still,
there was luck in your noticing that villain talking to the galley
slaves, and then to one of the officers of the prison. Of course, as the
grand master said last night, it isn't one in a thousand who would have
thought anything more about it, and I am sure I shouldn't; so that, and
all the rest, is entirely your own doing. Still, it was a piece of
luck that you noticed him talking with a slave. Don't think I envy you,
Gervaise; I don't a bit, and I feel as much as any one that you have
well deserved the honour you have obtained. Still, you know, it is a
sort of consolation to me that luck had a little--just a little--to do
with it.”
“In my opinion luck had everything to do with it,” Gervaise said
heartily, “and I feel downright ashamed at there being such a fuss made
over it. It was bad enough before, merely because I had hit on a
plan for our escape from those pirates, but this is worse, and I feel
horribly nervous at the thought of having to appear before the grand
master and the council.”
“Well, that brown dye will hide your blushes, Gervaise. I can only say
I wish that I was in your place. By-the-bye, have you heard that they
caught that rascal Greek last night?”
“No, I have not heard anything about it.”
“Yes. The knights hid themselves behind a pile of goods on the wharf.
There was no one about, so far as they could see, but soon after twelve
they saw a figure come up on to the deck of a fishing boat moored by the
quay. It was the Greek; he stood there for a minute or two listening,
and then went down again; he did this five or six times, and at one
o'clock they saw him throw up his arms, as if in despair; he stepped
ashore, and was about to make his way up into the town when they rushed
out and seized him. There is no doubt as to what his fate will be. I am
sorry to say that I hear my friend Vrados has been arrested; but there
can be no doubt about his loyalty, and he will assuredly be able
to explain to the satisfaction of the council how this man became a
resident at his house.”
“I am sorry I met him there, Ralph. It is a very unpleasant thing to
have gone to a house, to have been received kindly, and then to be the
means of bringing trouble upon it.”
“Yes. I feel that a little myself, because I took you there; and yet I
cannot regret it, for if you had not seen him and taken an objection to
him, you might not have noticed him particularly when he spoke to one of
the galley slaves. It is certainly curious that you should have doubted
the man, for I have met him there several times, and even after your
visit with me I could see nothing in him to justify your dislike.”
Gervaise went up to the palace, and while waiting in the great hall
until summoned before the council he was warmly accosted by several
knights,--some of whom were quite strangers to him,--who all joined in
congratulating him on the immense service he had done to the Order. It
was upwards of an hour before he was called in.
“The council have received, Sir Gervaise Tresham,” the grand master
said, “full details from Sir John Kendall of the manner in which you
first discovered, and have since followed up the daring plot by which
the slaves at St. Pelagius were to have risen, slain the guards who were
faithful, spiked the cannon in the three water forts, burnt the merchant
shipping, carried off six galleys and burnt the rest, and in their
name I thank you for having saved the Order from a great calamity. The
members of the council agree with me that you have shown an amount of
discernment of the highest kind, and that you are worthy of exceptional
favour and reward for your conduct. I therefore in my own name appoint
you to the commandery of our manor of Maltby in Lincolnshire, which,
having fallen vacant, is in my gift; and I release it from the usual
payment of the first year's revenue. Knowing that you desire to
establish yourself here, the council have, at my request, decided to
make an exception to the general rule that a knight, on promotion to a
commandery, must return and take charge of it in two years from the time
the grant is made to him. The commandery will therefore be administered
by the senior of the knights attached to it.
“The council, on their part, have requested the bailiff of Auvergne, as
grand master of the Fleet, to appoint you to the command of the galley
now building, and approaching completion. This he has consented to
do, feeling, as we all feel, that although such an appointment is
unprecedented for a young knight, yet in the present case such an
exception may well be made. I may add that the Admiral has--in
order that no knight greatly your senior should be placed under your
command--determined that he will appoint to it only young knights, who
will, we are assured, gladly serve under one who has so distinguished
himself, feeling certain that, under his command, they will have ample
opportunities against the infidels to prove themselves worthy of the
Order. I may add, also, that the bailiffs of all the langues promise
that they will select from among the young knights such as may seem best
fitted for such service, by their skill in warlike exercises, by their
ready obedience to orders, and good conduct. And I foresee that the
spirit of emulation, and the desire to show that, though still but
professed knights, they are capable of performing as valiant deeds as
their elders, will make the galley under your command one of the most
successful in the Order.
“As you are aware, it is a stringent rule, which even in so exceptional
a case we should not be justified in breaking, that a knight must reside
in the Island for five years previous to being promoted to a commandery.
It is now two months more than that time since you were received as page
to the late grand master, and in promoting you to a commandery I have
not, therefore, broken the rule. You may retire, Sir Gervaise.”
Gervaise, overwhelmed by the unlooked for honours thus bestowed upon
him, bowed deeply to the grand master and the members of the council,
and then retired from the chamber. He passed out of the palace by a side
door, so as to avoid being accosted by the knights in the great hall,
and took his way out on to the ramparts, where he walked up and down for
a considerable time before returning to the auberge. He felt no hilarity
at his promotion. He had never entertained any ambition for rising to
high office in the Order, but had hoped only to perform his duty as a
true knight, to fight against the infidels, and some day, if need be, to
die for the Order. The commandery was, he knew, a rich one, and as
its chief he would draw a considerable revenue from the estate. This
afforded him no pleasure whatever, except inasmuch as it would enable
him, in his new command of the galley, to keep a handsome table, and to
entertain well the knights who served under him.
It seemed to him, however, that the reward and honours were so far
beyond his deserts that he felt almost humiliated by their bestowal. The
responsibility, too, was great. Would these young knights, the youngest
of whom could be but a year his junior, serve willingly under his
orders? And, above all, would they be able to emulate the deeds of
experienced warriors, and would the galley worthily maintain the fame of
the Order?
At the end of two hours he was joined by Ralph Harcourt.
“I have been looking for you everywhere, Gervaise. You seemed to have
disappeared mysteriously. None had marked you leave the council chamber,
or knew where you had gone; and after searching everywhere I remembered
your fondness for walks upon the walls, so I climbed to the top of
St. John's tower and thence espied you. Well, I congratulate you most
heartily on the honours that have fallen to your share, especially that
of the command of a new galley.”
“It is too much altogether, Ralph. I feel ashamed at being thus thrust
into a post that ought to be given to a knight of age and experience.
How can I expect a number of young knights, of whom well nigh all must
be my seniors in age, to obey me as they would an older man?”
“What has age to do with it?” Ralph said. “You have shown that you have
a head to think, and, as you before proved, you have an arm to strike.
Why, every young knight in the Order must feel proud that one of their
own age has gained such honour. It raises them all in their own esteem,
and you will see that you will get the pick among all the professed
knights, and of a good many who have finished their profession, and are
serving here in the hope of some day getting promotion to a commandery.
Not such an one as you have got; that, in the ordinary course of things,
does not fall to a knight until he is well on in years, and has served
in many commanderies of smaller value. I can tell you, directly Sir John
Kendall came back and told us that you had been appointed commander of
the new galley, and that it was to be manned wholly by young knights,
there was not one of those serving their profession in the auberge who
did not beg Sir John to put down his name for it; and ten or twelve
others, myself among them, who have obtained full knighthood also.”
“You don't mean to say that you have put down your name to serve under
me, Ralph? It would be monstrous.”
“I see nothing monstrous in it, Gervaise. As I said just now, years have
nothing to do with it, and, putting aside our friendship, I would rather
serve under you than under many knights old enough to be your father. I
don't know whether I shall have the luck to be one of the chosen, as Sir
John said that there were to be only seven from each langue, which will
make forty-nine--with yourself fifty. If I am chosen--and, knowing
our friendship, I hope that the bailiff will let me go with you--it is
likely enough I may be named your lieutenant, as I shall be the only one
beside yourself who is a secular knight, and am, therefore, superior in
rank to the rest.”
“That would be pleasant indeed, Ralph, though I would rather that you
had been made commander and I lieutenant; but at any rate, with you
to support me, I shall feel less oppressed by the thought of my
responsibility.”
As Ralph had declared would be the case, the young knights in the other
auberges were as anxious as those of England to be enrolled among the
crew of the new galley, and the bailiffs had some trouble in choosing
among the aspirants. Very few were selected outside the rank of
professed knights, and as great pains were taken to comply with the
grand master's wishes that only young knights of good conduct and
disposition, and distinguished by their proficiency in warlike
exercises, should be chosen, the crew was in every way a picked one.
Most of them had made one or two of the three months' voyages in
the galleys, though comparatively few had had the good fortune to be
absolutely engaged with the Moslem pirates.
To the great satisfaction of himself and Gervaise, Ralph Harcourt
was nominated lieutenant of the galley. The fact that so many had
volunteered impressed all those who were chosen with the sense that it
was at once an honour and a piece of good fortune to be selected, and
all were determined that the boy galley, as the elder knights laughingly
termed it, should do honour to the Order.
It was a fortnight before she was launched. Gervaise had heard, with
great satisfaction, that it had been decided by the council that no
punishment should be inflicted upon the slaves for their share in the
intended rising at St. Pelagius. All were guilty, and there was no means
of saying who had taken prominent parts in the plot. The council felt
that it was but natural that they should grasp at the prospect of
freedom, for they themselves would have done the same had they been
captives of the infidels. Even the warders and guards were allowed to
go unpunished, although their offence was a much more serious one. Those
who could have named the men who had accepted bribes were dead, and the
lesson had been so severe a one that there was no probability of any
again turning traitors. The author of the rising had been publicly
executed. Seeing the hopelessness of denial, he had boldly avowed his
share in the matter, and had acknowledged that he was acting as agent
for the sultan, and had been supplied with ample funds before leaving
Constantinople.
He declared that he was absolutely unable to give any names whatever of
those concerned in the plot, save those of the two overseers, as these
had undertaken the work of suborning the warders and guards, though he
admitted that he had on several occasions spoken to slaves as the gangs
were on their way back to the prison, and had told them to be prepared
to take part in a plan that was on foot for their rescue from slavery.
The torture had not been, as was then the usual custom, applied to
extort information; partly because his story was probable, still more
because the grand master and council did not wish that more publicity
should be given to the affair, and were glad that it should be allowed
to drop without any further trial of the delinquents. In the city
generally it was only known that a plot had been discovered for the
liberation and escape of some of the slaves; and, outside the members of
the Order, none were aware of its extent and dangerous character. To the
satisfaction of Gervaise and Ralph, Vrados was able to produce letters
and documents that satisfied the council that he had been deceived as to
the character of the Greek, and was wholly innocent in the matter.