The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale by R. M. Ballantyne (digital book reader .txt) 📖

“Fear not; I think there will be ample time for you to go and return, if you make haste,” said the Jew.

“Then let me go at once,” urged the other.

“Not so,” answered Bacri; “we must proceed wisely as well as with caution.—Go, Angela,” he said to the maiden, who entered the room at that moment, “open the closet at the head of the terrace stair; you will find a thin knotted rope hanging there,—fetch it hither.”

In a few minutes Angela returned with the rope.

“Sit thee down, pretty one,” said Bacri kindly, “while I give this youth some directions. I will explain to you afterwards the cause of his being sent away.—This line, Mariano, is all you need. It is long enough to reach from the city walls to the ground. You will go towards the tower to the west of Bab-Azoun gate. There is an iron spike on the wall there, on which is fixed the head of your poor friend Castello. Fasten the rope to the spike and lower yourself. The ground reached, leave the rope hanging, it will serve for your ascent on returning; then speed round the back of the town, and over the hills by Frais Vallon to the house of the British consul, tell him of the urgent need there is for his seeing the Dey and letting him know the danger which hovers over his head, and then return as fast as possible. This rope you will find suitable to its objects. An active young fellow like you can have no difficulty in re-mounting the walls with the aid of these knots, and you need not fear interruption if you exercise ordinary caution, for Turkish soldiers, like the warriors of all nations, become arrant cowards when supernatural fears assail them. Poor Castello’s head will keep the nearest sentinel as far off as is consistent with his duty. No doubt they are well used to trunkless heads in this city, but there is a vast difference between the sight of such in the glare of day, when surrounded by comrades, and amid the excitement of war or an execution, and a similar head in the stillness of a calm night during the solemn hours of a long and solitary watch.”

“But why not allow me to start off at once?” asked Mariano, with some impatience at the Jew’s prolixity.

“Because the sentinels will not be relieved for an hour yet, and it is well to make such an enterprise as near to the relief as possible—wearied men at the end of a long watch being less on the alert than at the beginning of it. Besides, the moon will be lower in half an hour, and that will favour your enterprise.”

Being constrained to wait, Mariano busied himself in making the useful preparations. He wound the rope tightly round his waist, and covered it with a thin scarf such as was commonly worn by the Moors. He also trimmed and prepared a small lantern.

“Now,” said Bacri, looking at his watch, “you may go. But, stay—not in the direction of our usual passage. You could not move ten yards from my door to-night without being intercepted. Follow me; I have long been prepared for emergencies such as this.”

“Good-night, Angela,” said Mariano, extending his hand, as he prepared to follow the Jew.

“Oh, be careful,” said Angela earnestly. “From the little I have heard it seems that there is much danger impending.”

“What I can do to avert it shall be done,” replied the youth, kissing his hand to the girl as he passed through the doorway and followed his master to the terrace-roof of the house.

We have said that Algerine roofs are flat, but they are by no means regular. There are often various elevations on the same roof, and various forms, as if the architect had terminated the summits of the several walls and partitions at the dictates of a wayward fancy rather than a settled plan. In some cases a step—in others a flight of steps—formed the communication between one part of a roof and another, while division-walls varying from a foot to two yards in height, cut it up into irregular squares and triangles. Such roofs are eminently fitted for the game of “hide and go seek,” to which, doubtless, they have been applied more or less since the days of Abraham.

Issuing on the terrace of his house, then, Bacri pointed out to Mariano, by the light of the moon, which was slowly descending to its bed in the Sahel hills, that the roof of his neighbour’s house could be easily reached by a single step.

“You will cross over this roof,” he said, taking a ring from his finger and placing it on that of his slave, “and be sure that you tread with care until you come to the other edge of it, where you will be able to place yourself in the shadow of a chimney until a cloud covers the moon. My neighbour is not a friend, therefore tread like a cat. Attend well to my directions now, and obey them implicitly. You require no arms. Whatever happens to you, offer no resistance, as that will only ensure death. When the moon is clouded leap to the next roof, which you may see now in line with yonder minaret. There is about six feet between the two—which is nothing to a youth like you; only be careful, for failure will plunge you into the street, sixty feet below. That terrace gained, you are on friendly ground. Go, knock gently at the door leading to the house below, and show the owner my ring, asking him at the same time to guide you to the street, after which you know how to act; and may the God of Abraham direct you. Stay! If the owner of the house, who is a Jew, should use you roughly, heed it not. Whatever you do, be passive. Your own life, and it may be the lives of others, depends on this.”

The first part of the Jew’s caution would have availed little, for when Mariano was roused he recked little of his own life; but the reference to others reminded him of Angela and his father, so that he made up his mind to be a very model of forbearance whatever should happen.

Stepping easily from the house of the Jew to the terrace of his neighbour, he proceeded with extreme caution to the chimney pointed out to him, and took his stand under its shadow.

It was a time and situation which induced many burning thoughts and sad reflections to chase each other through the youth’s brain, as he awaited impatiently the clouding of the moon. From the elevated point on which he stood nearly the whole city lay spread out at his feet, its white terraces, domes, and minarets shining like silver in the pale light, and contrasting vividly with the dark blue bay lying between it and the distant range of the Jurjura mountains. Everything was profoundly calm, quiet, and peaceful, so that he found it difficult to believe in the fierce passions, black villainy, horrible cruelty, and intolerable suffering which seethed below. For some time his eyes rested on the palace of the Dey, and he thought of his father and Lucien with deep anxiety.

Then they wandered to the hated Bagnio, and he thought with pity of the miserable victims confined there, and of the hundreds of other Christian men and women who toiled in hopeless slavery in and around the pirate city. Passing onward, his eyes rested on the light-house and fortifications of the port, and he wondered whether any of the powerful nations of the earth would ever have the common-sense to send a fleet to blow such a wasps’ nest into unimaginable atoms!

At this point his thoughts were interrupted by the darkening of the moon by a thick cloud, and the sudden descent of deep shadow on the town—as if all hope in such a blessed consummation were forbidden.

Turning at once to the parapet of the terrace, he mounted, but paused a moment, as he endeavoured to gauge the distance of the opposite wall, and gazed into the black gulf below. Bacri had told him that the space was six feet. In the darkness that now prevailed it appeared twenty. He would have ventured it in the circumstances had it been sixty!

Collecting all his energies and courage, he made a bound forward that might have roused the envy of an acrobat, and cleared not only the space between but the parapet beyond, coming down with an awful crash into the midst of a certain box-garden, which was the special pride of the owner of the mansion.

Poor Mariano leaped up in horror, and listened with dread, but suddenly remembering that he now stood on what Bacri had termed friendly ground, he recovered self-possession and sought for the door on the roof. Finding it after some trouble, he knocked gently.

It was opened much sooner and more violently than he had anticipated, and a tall man springing out seized him by the throat in a grasp like a vice, and held a gleaming dagger to his breast.

In other circumstances Mariano would certainly have engaged in a struggle for the dagger, but remembering Angela and the Jew’s warning, he gave back, and said in French, as well as the vice-like grip would allow—

“A friend.”

“Truly,” replied the man gruffly, in Lingua Franca, “thy knock might imply friendship, but thine appearance here at such an hour requires more explanation than a mere assurance.”

“Remove your hand and you shall have it,” replied the youth, somewhat angrily. “Dost suppose that if I had been other than a friend I would not have ere now flung thee headlong from thine own terrace?”

“Speak quickly, then,” returned the man, relaxing his hold a little.

“This ring,” said the youth.

“Ha! Enough, a sure token,” interrupted the Jew, in a low friendly tone, on seeing the ring, at the same time leading Mariano within the doorway. “What wouldst thou?”

“Nothing more than to be shown the nearest way to the street.”

“That is soon done—follow me.”

In a few minutes Mariano found himself in a narrow street, down which, after lighting his lantern and thanking the Jew, he proceeded at a rapid pace.

In the intricacies of that curious old town the youth would certainly have lost himself, but for the fact that it was built, as we have said, on the slope of a hill, so that all he had to do was to keep descending, in order to secure his final exit into the principal thoroughfare—Bab-Azoun.

Few persons met him at that hour, and these appeared desirous of avoiding observation. After passing the Bagnio with a shudder, he extinguished the lantern. And now the real danger of his enterprise had begun, because he was acting illegally in traversing the streets after dark without a light, and liable to be taken up and punished by any of the guards who should find him. He proceeded therefore with great caution; keeping close to the walls in the darkest places, and gliding into doorways to hide when any one approached. Thus he succeeded escaping observation, and had almost reached the city wall, not far from the spot where it was garnished by poor Castello’s head, when he heard the tramp of soldiers. They were about to turn a corner which would in another second have brought him full into view. To retreat was impossible, and no friendly doorway stood open to receive him. In this extremity he pressed himself into a niche formed by a pillar and an angle of the house beside him. It could not have concealed him in ordinary circumstances, but aided by darkness there was some possibility of escaping notice. Crushing himself against the wall with all his might, and wishing with all his heart that he had been a smaller man, he breathlessly awaited the passing of the soldiers.