The Middy and the Moors by Robert Michael Ballantyne (good english books to read txt) đ
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At the time when our hero first arrived at Ben-Ahmedâs home, he had been despoiled of his own garments while he was in bedâthe slave costume having been left in their place. On application to his friend Peter, however, his pocket-knife, pencil, letters, and a few other things had been returned to him. Thus, while waiting, he was able to turn his time to account by making a sketch of the interior of the coffee-house, to the great surprise and gratification of the negroes thereâperhaps, also, of the Moorsâbut these latter were too reticent and dignified to express any interest by word or look, whatever they might have felt.
He was thus engaged when Peter returned.
âHallo, Geoâge!â exclaimed the negro, âwhat you bin up toâmakinâ picturs?â
âOnly a little sketch,â said Foster, holding it up.
âA skitch!â repeated Peter, grasping the letter, and holding it out at armâs length with the air of a connoisseur, while he compared it with the original. âYou call dis a skitch? Well! I neber see de like ob disâno, neber. Itâs lubly. Dereâs de kittles anâ de pots anâ de jars, anââha, ha! dereâs de man wid deâdeâwart on âis nose! Oh! das fust-rate. Massaâs awrful fond ob skitchinâ. He wouldnât sell you now for ten tâousand dollars.â
Fortunately the Arab with the wart on his nose was ignorant of English, otherwise he might have had some objection to being thus transferred to paper, and brought, as Arabs think, under âthe power of the evil eye.â Before the exact nature of what had been done, however, was quite understood, Peter had paid for the coffee, and, with the amateur artist, had left the place.
âNothing surprises me more,â said Foster, as they walked along, âthan to see such beautiful wells and fountains in streets so narrow that one actually has not enough room to step back and look at them properly. Look at that one now, with the negress, the Moor, and the water-carrier waiting their turn while the little girl fills her water-pot. See what labour has been thrown away on that fountain. What elegance of design, what columns of sculptured marble, and fine tessellated work stuck up where few people can see it, even when they try to.â
âTrue, Geoâge. De water would run as well out ob a ugly fountain as a pritty one.â
âBut itâs not that I wonder at, Peter; itâs the putting of such splendid work in such dark narrow lanes that surprises me. Why do they go to so much expense in such a place as this?â
âOh! as to expense, Geoâge. Dey donât go to none. You see, we hab no end ob slabes here, ob all kinds, anâ trades anâ purfessions, what cost nuffin but a leetle black bread to keep âem alibe, anâ a whackinâ now anâ den to make âem work. Bress you! dem marble fountains anâ tâings cost the pirits nuffin. Now weâs goinâ up to see the Kasba.â
âWhat is that, Peter?â
âWhat! you not know what de Kasba am? My, how ignorant you is! De Kasba is de citadâlâde fortâwhere all de money anâ tâingsâtreasure you call itâam kepâ safe. Strong place, de Kasbaâawrful strong.â
âIâll be glad to see that,â said Foster.
âHo yes. You be glad to see it wid me,â returned the negro significantly, âbut not so glad if you go dere wid chains on you legs anâ pick or shovel on you shoulder. Seeâdere dey go!â
As he spoke a band of slaves was seen advancing up the narrow street. Standing aside in a doorway to let them pass, Foster saw that the band was composed of men of many nations. Among them he observed the fair hair and blue eyes of the Saxon, the dark complexion and hair of the Spaniard and Italian, and the black skin of the negroâbut all resembled each other in their looks and lines of care, and in the weary anxiety and suffering with which every countenance was stamped,âalso in the more or less dejected air of the slaves, and the soiled ragged garments with which they were covered.
But if some of the resemblances between these poor creatures were strong, some of their differences were still more striking. Among them were men whose robust frames had not yet been broken down, whose vigorous spirits had not been quite tamed, and whose scowling eyes and compressed lips revealed the fact that they were âdangerous.â These walked along with clanking chains on their limbsâchains which were more or less weighty, according to the strength and character of the wearer. Others there were so reduced in health, strength, and spirit, that the chain of their own feebleness was heavy enough for them to drag to their daily toil. Among these were some with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, whose weary pilgrimage was evidently drawing to a close; but all, whether strong or weak, fierce or subdued, were made to tramp smartly up the steep street, being kept up to the mark by drivers, whose cruel whips cracked frequently on the shoulders of the lagging and the lazy.
With a heart that felt as if ready to burst with conflicting emotions, the poor midshipman looked on, clenching his teeth to prevent unwise exclamations, and unclenching his fists to prevent the tendency to commit assault and battery!
âThis is dreadful,â he said, in a low voice, when the gang had passed.
âYes, Geoâge, it is dreffulâbut weâs used to it, you know. Come, weâll foller dis gang.â
Keeping about twenty yards behind, they followed the slaves into the Kasba, where they met with no interruption from the guards, who seemed to be well acquainted with Peter the Great, though they did not condescend to notice him, except by a passing glance.
âHow is it that every one lets you pass so easily?â asked Foster, when they had nearly reached the southern wall of the fortress.
âEberybody knows me so wellâdas one reason,â answered the negro, with a grin of self-satisfaction.
âIâs quite a public krakter in dis yar city, you musâ know. Den, anoder tâing is, dat our massa am a man ob power. He not got no partikler office in de state, âcause he not require it, for heâs a rich man, but heâs got great power wid de Deyâweâs bof got dat!â
âIndeed; how so?â
âStand here, under dis doorway, and I tell youâdis way, where you can see de splendid view ob de whole city anâ de harbour anâ sea bâyond. We kin wait a bit here while de slabes are gittinâ ready to work. You see de bit ob wall datâs damaged dere? Well, deyâre goinâ to repair dat. Weâll go look at âem by-anâ-by.â
As the incident which Peter narrated might prove tedious if given in his own language, we take the liberty of relating it for him.
One fine morning during the previous summer the Dey of Algiers mounted his horseâa fiery little Arabâand, attended by several of his courtiers, cantered away in the direction of the suburb which is now known by the name of Mustapha SupĂ©rieur. When drawing near to the residence of Ben-Ahmed the Deyâs horse became unmanageable and ran away. Being the best horse of the party, the courtiers were soon left far behind. It chanced that Ben-Ahmed and his man, Peter the Great, were walking together towards the city that day. On turning a sharp bend in the road where a high bank had shut out their view they saw a horseman approaching at a furious gallop.
âIt is the Dey!â exclaimed Ben-Ahmed.
âSo it am!â responded Peter.
âHe canât make the turn of the road and live!â cried the Moor, all his dignified self-possession vanishing as he prepared for action.
âI will check the horse,â he added, in a quick, low voice. âYou break his fall, Peter. Heâll come off on the left side.â
âDas so, massa,â said Peter, as he sprang to the other side of the narrow road.
He had barely done so, when the Dey came thundering towards them.
âStand aside!â he shouted as he came on, for he was a fearless horseman and quite collected, though in such peril.
But Ben-Ahmed would not stand aside. Although an old man, he was still active and powerful. He seized the reins of the horse as it was passing, and, bringing his whole weight and strength to bear, checked it so far that it made a false step and stumbled. This had the effect of sending the Dey out of the saddle like a bomb from a mortar, and of hurling Ben-Ahmed to the ground. Ill would it have fared with the Dey at that moment if Peter the Great had not possessed a mechanical turn of mind, and a big, powerful body, as well as a keen, quick eye for possibilities. Correcting his distance in a moment by jumping back a couple of paces, he opened his arms and received the chief of Algiers into his broad black bosom!
The shock was tremendous, for the Dey was by no means a light weight, and Peter the Great went down before it in the dust, while the great man arose, shaken indeed, and confused, but unhurt by the accident.
Ben-Ahmed also arose uninjured, but Peter lay still where he had fallen.
âWâen I come-to to myself,â continued Peter, on reaching this point in his narrative, âde fusâ tâing I tâink was dat Iâd been buâsted. Den I look up, anâ I sees our black cook. Sheâs a nigger, like myself, only a she one.
ââHallo, Angelica!â says I; âwass de matter?â
ââMatter!â says she; âyouâs deadâaâmost, anâ dey lefâ you here wid me, wid strik orders to take care ob you.â
ââDas good,â says I; âanâ you better look out anâ obey your orders, else de bowstring bery soon go round your pritty little neck. But tell me, Angelica, who brought me here?â
ââDe Dey ob Algiers anâ all his court,â says she, wid a larf dat shut up her eyes anâ showed what a enormous moutâ she hab.
ââIs he all safe, Angelica,â says Iââmassa, I mean?â
ââOh, I tâought you meant de Dey!â says she. âOh yes; massaâs all right; nuffinâll kill massa, heâs tough. And de Dey, heâs all right too.â
ââDas good, Angelica,â says I, feelinâ quite sweet, for I was beginninâ to remember what had took place.
ââYes, das is good,â says she; âanâ, Peter, your fortinâs made!â
ââDas awkâard,â says I, âfor I ainât got no chest or strong box ready to put it in. But now tell me, Angelica, if my fortinâs made, will you marry me, anâ help to spend it?â
ââYes, I will,â says she.
âI was so took by surprise, Geoâge, when she say dat, I sprung up on one elber, anâ felled down agin wid a howl, for two oâ my ribs had been broke.
ââNeber mind de yells, Angelica,â says I, âitâs only my leetle ways. But tell me why you allers refuse me before anâ accepâ me now. Is itâdeâde fortin?â Oh, you should have seen her pout wâen I ax dat. Her moutâ came out about two inch from her face. I could hab kissed itâbut for de broken ribs.
ââNo, Peter, for shame!â says she, wid rijeous indignation. âDe fortin hab nuffin to do wid it, but your own noble self-scarifyinâ bravery in presentinâ your buzzum to de Dey ob Algiers.â
ââTâank you, Angelica,â says I. âDas all comfrably settled. Youâs a good gall, kiss me now, anâ go away.â
âSo she gib me a kiss anâ I turn round anâ went sweetly to sleep on de back ob datâfor I was awrful tired, anâ de ribs was
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