The Pirate City by Robert Michael Ballantyne (large ebook reader .TXT) 📖

scratched his head with his ten nails; and tweaked his nose, and pulled his fingers and toes till they cracked again!

All this Ted Flaggan, being tough, bore with passing fortitude, frequently saying to the Moor, internally, for soap forbade the opening of his lips--

"Go ahead, me lad, an' do yer worst!"

But although his tormentor utterly failed to move him by fair means, he knew of a foul method which proved successful. He crossed Ted's arms over his breast, and attempted to draw them as far over as possible, with the view, apparently, of tying them into a knot.

"Pull away, me hearty!" thought Flaggan, purposely making himself as limp as possible.

The Moor did pull; and while his victim's arms were stretched across each other to the uttermost, he suddenly fell upon them, thereby almost forcing the shoulder-joints out of their sockets.

"Och! ye spalpeen!" shouted Ted, flinging him off as if he had been a feather. Then, sinking back, he added, "Come on; you'll not ketch me slaipin' again, me honey!"

The amused Moor accepted the invitation, and returned to the charge. He punched him, baked him, boxed him, and battered him, and finally, drenching him with ice-cold water, swathed him in a sheet, twisted a white turban on his head, and turned him out like a piece of brand-new furniture, highly polished, into the drying-room.

"How yoos like it?" asked Rais Ali, as they lay in the Turkish-corpse stage of the process, calmly sipping tea.

"It's plis'nt," replied Ted, "uncommon plis'nt, but raither surprisin'."

"Ha," responded Rais.

At this point their attention was turned to the little fat Moor who had been their fellow-bather, and to whom Ted in his undivided attention to the thin Moor had paid little regard.

"Musha!" whispered Ted, "it's the capting of the port."

The captain of the port it was, and if that individual had known who it was that lay cooling within a few yards of him, he would probably have brought our nautical hero's days to a speedy termination. But although he had seen Ted Flaggan frequently under the aspect of a British seaman, he had never before seen him in the character of a half-boiled Moor. Besides, having been thoroughly engrossed and lost in the enjoyment of his own bath, he had paid no attention to those around him.

"Turn yoos face well to de wall," whispered Rais Ali. "He great hass; hims no see yoo."

"Great `hass,' indade; he's not half such a `hass' as I am for comin' in here," muttered the sailor, as he huddled on his Arab garments, keeping his face carefully turned away from the captain of the port, who lay with his eyes shut in a state of dreamy enjoyment.

In a few minutes the two friends paid for their bath, and went out.

"I feels for all the world like a bird or a balloon," said Ted, as his companion hurried him along; "if I don't git some ballast soon in the shape o' grub, I'll float away intirely."

Rais Ali made no reply, but turned into a baker's shop, where he purchased two rolls. Then hurrying on down several narrow streets, the houses of which met overhead, and excluded much of the light of day, he turned into a small Moorish coffee-house, which at first seemed to the sailor to be absolutely dark, but in a few minutes his eyes became accustomed to it, and he saw that there were several other customers present.

They were nearly all in Arab costume, and sat cross-legged on two benches which ran down either side of the narrow room. Each smoked a long pipe, and sipped black coffee out of a very diminutive cup, while the host, a half negro, stood beside a charcoal fire, in the darkness of the far interior, attending to an array of miniature tin coffee-pots, which exactly matched the cups in size. A young Moor, with a red fez, sat twanging a little guitar, the body of which was half a cocoa-nut, covered with parchment.

This musician produced very dismal tones from its two strings, but the Arabs seemed content, and sat in silent, not to say dignified, enjoyment of it.

"Eat away now," whispered Rais to Flaggan, as they entered--"cross yoo legs, look solemn, an' hold yoos tongue. Me goes git shave."

Obedient to instructions--as British seamen always are--Ted took his place on one of the narrow benches, and, crossing his legs _a la Turk_, began with real zest to eat the rolls which his friend had provided for him, and to sip the cup, or thimbleful, of coffee which mine host silently, by order of the same friend, placed at his side.

Meanwhile, Rais Ali submitted himself to the hands of the host, who was also a barber, and had his head and face shaved without soap--though a little cold water was used.

During this operation a boy ran hastily into the cafe and made an announcement in Arabic, which had the surprising effect of startling the Arabs into undignified haste, and induced Rais Ali to overturn his coffee on the barber's naked feet, while he seized a towel and dried himself violently.

"What's to do, old feller?" demanded Flaggan, with a huge bite of bread almost stopping up his mouth.

"De British fleet am in sight!" shrieked Rais Ali.

"Ye don't mean that?" cried Ted, in his turn becoming excited. "Then it's time that _I_ was out o' the city!"

"Yis, away! go to yous cave! Only death for Breetish in Algiers--off! away!"

The Moor dashed out and hastened to his post on the ramparts, while Ted Flaggan, drawing his burnous well round him, made straight for the northern gate of the town, casting an uneasy glance at his now white legs, of which at least the ankles and beginning of the brawny calves were visible. We use the term "white" out of courtesy, and in reference to the distinct difference between the bold seaman's limbs and those of the brown-skinned Arabs. In reality they were of a very questionable neutral tint, and covered with a large quantity of hair.

Their appearance, however, signified little, for by that time the whole town was in an uproar of active preparation and excitement.

Men of various colours--black, brown, and yellow, with every intermediate shade, and in many different garbs--were hastening to the ramparts, while anxious women of the lower orders, and frightened children, were rushing to and fro, either engaged in some duties connected with the defence, or simply relieving their feelings by violent action: while bodies of janissaries were hastening to their various stations, or came trooping in from all the outposts of the surrounding country.

In the midst of such confusion our tall Arab attracted no notice. He passed through the streets unmolested, and out at the Bab-el-Oued gate unchallenged.

It was little more than daybreak at the time, for Arabs are early risers at all times, and on the present occasion they had reason to be earlier than usual.

The moment our tar caught sight of the sea, his heart gave a wild bound of exultation, for on the horizon appeared a few white specks, like sea-mews, which he now knew to be the British fleet.

Without any definite intention as to what he meant to do, Flaggan sped along the road leading to his cave at Point Pescade, his chief feeling being a strong desire to get out of the sight of natives, that he might meditate alone on his future movements, which he felt must be prompt and decisive.

Before quite reaching his destination fortune favoured him. Coming round a rocky point of the coast, he observed a boat with one man in it rowing close inshore.

"That'll do," whispered Ted to himself, as he went behind a rock and hastily smeared his face and limbs with earth.

When the boat approached he went to the edge of the sea and made signs to the fisherman, for such he was, to approach, at the same time pretending to take something out of a wallet at his side, to which he pointed with eager interest, as though he had something important to say about it.

The man lay on his oars a moment, and then pulled in, but cautiously, for he suspected the stranger. When within about four or five yards of the rocks the man again stopped.

"Arrah come on, won't 'ee?" exclaimed the impatient Irishman, gesticulating wildly.

The fisherman had evidently seen and heard enough, for he at once dipped his oars with the intention of rowing off, when Ted made a sudden spring, and went with a heavy plunge into the water within a yard of the boat, which was a very small one.

Unfortunately for the fisherman, instead of pulling away he raised an oar with the intention of striking Flaggan when he should rise. It was a fatal mistake. He did indeed strike him, and on the head too; but that was the most invulnerable part of the Irishman's body. Ted grasped the oar, caught the gunwale of the boat, and in a moment overturned it and its occupant on his shoulders.

Diving clear, he rose and watched for his adversary. The man also rose a moment later, and Ted, who was a splendid swimmer, went at him like a small steamboat, caught him by the neck, and half throttled him; then dragging him ashore, untwisted his turban, and therewith tied his arms and legs fast, after which he carried him into a small cave near at hand, and left him to his meditations.

This accomplished, he returned to the little boat, swam off and righted her, baled her out, shipped the oars, and rowed straight out to sea.


CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.


DESCRIBES THE BOMBARDMENT OF ALGIERS.

When the British fleet bore down on Algiers on the morning of the 27th of August 1816, there was barely sufficient wind to carry it within sight of the town. While lying becalmed in the _Queen Charlotte_, Lord Exmouth sent in a boat and a flag of truce with the terms dictated by England, and a demand for the immediate release of the consul and the officers and men belonging to the _Prometheus_.

About the same time a small boat was observed by those on board the fleet to put off from the shore to the northward, which, pulling right across the town, made straight for the flag-ship. It was manned by a solitary rower, who, as he drew near, was recognised by his costume to be an Arab.

A four-oared boat shot out from the mole-head as if to intercept this solitary rower, and a short but inspiriting chase ensued. It was seen that at first the Arab paid no attention whatever to the boat in pursuit, but kept up the slow regular stroke of one who felt quite unconcerned and at his ease. The boat in chase overhauled it fast, and when within shout a gunshot the Turk in the stern stood up and hailed the Arab in stern, angry tones, but no reply was vouchsafed. Exasperated beyond measure, the Turk levelled a pistol at the Arab and fired, but missed his aim, and was driven almost frantic with rage on observing that the insolent Arab dropped his oar for an instant, and kissed his hand to the ball as it skipped past.

Immediately after the Turk was heard to shout an order to his men, who thereupon redoubled their