The Middy and the Moors: An Algerine Story by R. M. Ballantyne (best books to read in your 20s TXT) đ
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
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âGo on, Brown, I will trust you,â said Hester, placing her hand in that of the seaman, who, without another word, led her swiftly into the bush.
Now, all this, and a great deal more was afterwards related by Hester herself to her friends; but at the time all that was known to Sallyâthe only witness of the exploitâwas that Hester Sommers had been carried off in the manner related by an apparently friendly British sailor. This she told soon after to Peter the Great, and this was the substance of the communication which Peter the Great, with glaring eyes and bated breath, made to George Foster, who received it with feelings and expressions that varied amazingly as the narrative proceeded.
âIs that all?â he asked, when the negro at length came to a decided stop.
âDas allâanâ itâs enuff too! âPears to me youâs not so much cut up about dis leetle business as I âspected you would be.â
âI am anxious, of course, about Hester,â returned the middy; âbut at the same time greatly relieved, first, to know that she is in the hands of a respectable British sailor; and, second, that she is not in the hands of these bloodthirsty piratical Moors. But what about her father? Nothing more, I suppose, is known about his fate?â
âNotâing, onây itâs as sure as if we did know it. If his carcass isnât on de hooks by dis time itâll soon be.â
As the negro spoke the midshipman started up with flashing eyes, exclaimed angrily, âIt shall never be,â and ran out of the bower.
Entering the house, he went straight to Ben-Ahmedâs private chamber, which he entered boldly, without even knocking at the door.
The Moor was seated cross-legs on a mat, solacing himself, as usual, with a pipe. He was not a little surprised, and at first was inclined to be angry, at the abrupt entrance of his slave.
âBen-Ahmed,â said the middy, with vehemence, âthe father of the English girl you are so fond ofâand whom I loveâis in terrible danger, and if you are a true manâas I firmly believe you areâyou will save him.â
The Moor smiled very slightly at the youthâs vehemence, pointed with the mouthpiece of his hookah to a cushion, and bade him sit down and tell him all about it.
The middy at once squatted Ă la Turk, not on the cushion, but on the floor, in front of his master, and, with earnest voice and gesture, related the story which Peter the Great had just told him.
Ben-Ahmed was visibly affected by it.
âBut how can I save him?â he asked, with a look of perplexity.
âDid you not once save the life of the Dey?â asked Foster.
âI did. How came you to know that?â
âI heard it from Peter the Great, who aided you on the occasion. And he told me that the Dey has often since then offered to do you some good turn, but that you have always declined.â
âThat is true,â said Ben-Ahmed, with the look of a man into whose mind a new idea had been introduced.
âYes, something may be done in that way, and it would grieve me that the father of my poor little Hester should die. I will try. Go, have my horse saddled, and send Peter to me.â
Our midshipman bounded rather than rose from the floor, and uttered an irresistible, âGod bless you,â as he vanished through the doorway on his errand.
âPeter,â he criedâencountering that worthy as he ranââweâll manage it! Go to Ben-Ahmed! He wants youâquick! Iâm off to fetch his horse.â
Foster was much too anxious to have the thing done quickly to give the order to the head groom. He ran direct to the stable, and, choosing the fleetest of the Moorâs Arab steeds, quickly put on its crimson saddle, with its un-European peaks before and behind, and the other gay portions of harness with which Easterns are wont to caparison their horses.
In a wonderfully short space of time he had the steed round to the front door, and sent another slave to tell his master that it was ready.
The Moor had also caparisoned himself, if we may say so, for the intended visit, and he had evidently done it in haste. Nevertheless, his gait was stately, and his movements were slow, as he gravely mounted the horse and rode away. The impatience of the middy was somewhat relieved, however, when he saw that Ben-Ahmed, on reaching the main road, put spurs to his horse, and rode towards the city at full gallop.
After Ben-Ahmed had departed on his mission to the Dey of Algiers, George Foster and Peter the Great re-entered the house, and in the seclusion of the bower continued to discuss the hopes, fears, and possibilities connected with the situation.
âDat was a clebber dodge ob yours, Geoâge,â remarked the negro, âanâ Iâs got good hope dat sometâing will come ob it, for massaâs pretty sure to succeed wâen he take a tâing in hand.â
âIâm glad you think so, Peter. And, to say truth, I am myself very sanguine.â
âBut dereâs one tâing dat âplexes me bery much. What is we to do about pooâ Hesterâs fadder wâen heâs pardoned? De Dey can spare his life, but he wonât set him freeâanâ if he donât set him free de slabe-drivers âll be sure to kill âim out ob spite.â
The middy was silent, for he could not see his way out of this difficulty.
âPerhaps,â he said, âBen-Ahmed may have thought of that, and will provide against it, for of course he knows all the outs and ins of Moorish life, and he is a thoughtful man.â
âDas true, Geoâge. He am a tâoughtful man. Anyhow, we kin do notâing more, âcept wait anâ see. But Iâs much more âplexed about Hester, for eben if de sailor am a good anâ true man, as you say, he canât keep her or his-self alibe on notâing in de mountains, no moreân he could swim wid her on his back across de Mederainyon!â
Again the middy was silent for a time. He could by no means see his way out of this greater difficulty, and his heart almost failed him as he thought of the poor girl wandering in the wilderness without food or shelter.
âPârâaps,â suggested Peter, âshe may manage to git into de town anâ pass for a nigger as sheâs dood before, anâ make tracks for her old place wid Missis Lillyâor wid Dinah.â
âNo doubt she may,â cried Foster, grasping at the hope as a drowning man grasps at a plank. âNothing more likely. Wouldnât it be a good plan for you to go into town at once and make inquiry?â
âDessay it would,â returned the negro. âDas just what Iâll do, anâ if sheâs not dere, Dinah may gib my intâlecâ a jog. Sheâs a wonderful woman, Dinah, for workinâ up de human mind wâen itâs like goinâ to sleep. Pooâ Samson hab diskivered dat many times. Iâll go at once.â
âDo, Peter, my fine fellow, and youâll lay me for ever under the deepest obââ
He was interrupted by a slave who at the moment approached the bower and said that a man wanted to see Peter the Great.
âTo see Ben-Ahmed, you mean,â said Peter.
âNoâto see yourself,â returned the slave.
âSenâ âim here,â said the negro, with a magnificent wave of the hand.
In a few minutes the slave returned accompanied by a negro, who limped so badly that he was obliged to use a stick, and whose head was bandaged up with a blue cloth. Arrived at the bower, he stood before Peter the Great and groaned.
âYou may go,â said Peter to the slave, who lingered as if anxious to hear the news of the visitor. When he was out of hearing, Peter turned to the lame man, looked him sharply in the face, and saidâ
âYouâs bery black in de face, my frind, but youâs much blacker in de hâart. What business hab you to come here widout washinâ your white face clean?â
âWell, youâre a pretty smart chap for a nigger. Anâ I dare say youâll understand that Iâd have had some difficulty in fetchinâ this here port at all if Iâd washed my face,â answered the lame man, in excellent nautical English.
While he spoke, Foster ran towards him, laid a hand on his shoulder, and looked earnestly into his face.
âYou are the British sailor,â he said, âwho rescued HesâMiss Sommers from the janissaries?â
âThatâs me to a tee,â replied the sailor, with a broad grin.
âIs Miss Sommers safe?â asked the middy anxiously.
âAy! safe as any woman can be in this world. Leastwise, sheâs in a cave wiâ three oâ the toughest sea-dogs as any man could wish to seeâone oâ them beinâ a Maltese anâ the other two beinâ true-blue John Bulls as well as Jack Tars. But Miss Sommers gave me orders to say my say to Peter the Great, so if this nigger is him, Iâll be obleeged if heâll have a little private conversation wiâ me.â
âDid Miss Sommers say that I was not to hear the message?â asked the middy, in some surprise.
âShe made no mention oâ you, or anybody else at all, as I knows on,â returned the sailor firmly, âanâ as my orders was to Peter the Great, anâ as this seems to be him, from Sallyâs descriptionâa monstrous big, fine-lookinâ nigger, with a lively faceâIâll say my say to him alone, with your leave.â
âYou may say it where you is, for dis yar genâlemân is a frind ob mine, anâ a hofficer in the Briâsh navy, anâ a most âtickler friend of Hester Sommers, so we all frinds togidder.â
âYouâll excuse me, sir,â said the seaman, touching his forelock, âbut you donât look much like aâ officer in your present costoom. Well, then, hereâs wot Iâve got to sayââ
âDonât waste your time, Brown, in spinning the yarn of your rescue of the girl,â said Foster, interrupting; âweâve heard all about it already from Sally, and can never sufficiently express our thanks to you for your brave conduct. Tell us, now, what happened after you disappeared from Sallyâs view.â
The sailor thereupon told them all about his subsequent proceedingsâhow he had persuaded Hester to accompany him through the woods and by a round about route to a part of the coast where he expected ere long to find friends to rescue him. From some reason or other best known to himself, he was very secretive in regard to the way in which these friends had managed to communicate with him.
âYou see Iâm not free to speak out all I knows,â he said. âBut surely itâs enough to say that my friends have not failed me; that I found them waitinâ there with a small boat, so light that they had dragged it up anâ concealed it among the rocks, anâ that Iâd have bin on my way to old England at this good hour if it hadnât bin for poor Miss Sommers, whom we couldnât think of desartinâ.â
âThen she refused to go with you?â said Foster.
âRefused! I should think she did! Nothing, she said, would indooce her to leave Algiers while her father was in it. One oâ my mates was for forcing her into the boat, anâ carryinâ her off, willinâ or not willinâ, but I stood out aginâ him, as Iâd done enough oâ that to the poor thing already. Then she axed me to come along here anâ ax Peter the Great if he knowed anything about her father. âBut I donât know Peter the Great,â says I, ânor where he lives.â âGo to Sally,â says she, âanâ youâll get all the information you need.â âBut Iâll never get the length oâ Sally without being nabbed,â says I.
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