The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale

Chapter Fourteen.

The Plot thickens, and Mariano’s Forbearance and Courage are tested

When the commander-in-chief of cavalry condescended to pay a visit to a Jew, it was a sign that events of considerable importance were hovering in the air. The approach, therefore, of Sidi Hamet to the residence of Bacri one night, under cover of the darkness, was regarded by the Jew with feelings of misgiving, which caused his face to become suddenly very grave, as he looked through the little iron-bound hole, or window, which commanded a view of his court.

The Aga carried no light, although the laws ordained that all who moved about after night-fall should do so; but Bacri knew him as well by his outline and gait as if he had seen his face in the sunshine.

Descending the stair at once, the Jew opened the door and let him in.

“Thou art surprised, Bacri?” said Hamet, swaggering into the skiffa, where Angela chanced to be at work at the time.—“Ha! thou hast a pretty daughter,” he added, with a gaze of insolent admiration.

“The girl is passing fair,” replied the Jew, opening the door of his study, and purposely avoiding the correction of the Aga’s mistake. “Please to enter here.”

Hamet obeyed; remarking as he passed that the girl were worthy of being the wife of a Dey, if she had not been a Jewess.

“Bacri,” he said, sitting down, while the master of the house stood respectfully before him, “thou knowest the object of my visit—eh? Come, it is not the first time thou hast had to do with such as I. The plot thickens, Bacri, and thou must play thy part, willing or not willing. Say, how much is it to be?”

“How much do you demand?” asked the Jew.

The Aga rose and whispered in his ear.

“Impossible!” said Bacri, shaking his head decidedly.

“How, dog! impossible?” exclaimed the Turk sternly. “Dost know that I can let the whole Turkish army loose on thee and thy false-hearted race?”

“My race is maligned alike by Mohammedan and Christian,” returned the Jew, with dignity. “You know full well, Sidi Hamet, that the sum you have named would ruin all the Jews in the town. If the security of my people is not to be purchased for a smaller sum, we must perish. My utmost efforts would not avail to raise more than the half thereof within the specified time. You may indeed ruin us, if you will, but it were wise to remember that if you kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, there will be no more golden eggs to lay.”

“True, O Bacri,” returned Hamet, laughing; “thou art wise, and I shall act on thy wisdom—having first, however, acted on mine own when I demanded double the sum I expected to receive, knowing thine inveterate tendency to drive a hard bargain! Now, good-night,” he said, rising and leaving the room.—“Ha! thy pretty daughter has fled. Well, we shall hope to see her again. Mean while, have a care; our plot is in your hands, but thine every movement shall be watched from this hour, and if a note of warning escapes thee, thou art but a dead man!”

Saying this, the Aga departed, and Bacri, returning to the skiffa, summoned Mariano, who had been engaged in another part of the house when Hamet entered.

“Come hither, lad,” said the Jew, while a careworn expression seemed to settle on his handsome features; “I have work for you to do which requires courage and speed. Hamet the Aga—I may say, the black-hearted Aga—has been here on an errand which I have been looking forward to for some months. You may be aware, perhaps, that in this barbarous city there is no hereditary succession of Deys. Each Dey is elected by the Turkish janissaries from among the men of their own ranks; one result of which is that various factions are kept up in the army, and the most vigorous man among them, the one who can command the greatest number of admirers and followers, generally wins the unenviable but much-coveted post. When the reigning Dey becomes unpopular, the factions begin to ferment; and, instead of waiting for him to die, they invariably strangle, poison, or behead him. The factions generally have some disturbance among themselves, but in any case, the consequence of a revolution of this kind is, that complete anarchy prevails in the city, and, until a new Dey is elected by the janissaries, the Moors and Jews are at the mercy of the rude soldiery. Of course, all who have enemies among them hide themselves and their pelf, if possible, until the anarchy ceases, which it does the moment the green standard of the Prophet is hoisted on the terrace of the palace, announcing that a new Dey is seated on the warm throne of his not quite cold predecessor.

“I tell you all this,” continued the Jew impressively, “that ye may understand what is about to happen and know how to act. It is a sharp ordeal to go through, but a short one; the scene of violence lasting usually but one day. Still, that affords ample time for irreparable injury to be done.

“It is usual, just before a revolution, for the dominant faction to make an arrangement with the persecuted Jews, so that, in virtue of the payment of a large sum, their families and possessions may be spared. Of course, we are compelled to agree to this, and even compliance does not always secure us, because when violent men are once let loose, they often become unmanageable for a time, even by those who command them. Still, the payment of this unjust tax is our only safeguard. This evening, Sidi Hamet, the commander-in-chief of cavalry, has been here to make the arrangement with me. I have long known of his designs; indeed, we Jews know nearly all the secret plots that go on around us; for gold is potent, and we have those who are willing to give us information both in the palace and in the casba. I likewise know that Sidi Omar, whom you may have seen, also aims at the throne; but he has no chance against his rival Hamet, who is a more powerful man in mind and body, besides being younger. Your old enemy Sidi Hassan has agreed to assist Hamet, who has promised to reward him with the office next in dignity to his own. I have more than once warned Achmet of what is plotting, for he has been kinder to my people than most of the Deys who preceded him, but he is strangely slow in guarding himself. He is a bold, fearless man, and perchance trusts too much to a popularity which for some time has been on the wane—chiefly, I believe, because he is not a sufficiently unprincipled villain to please the taste of the lawless crew over whom he reigns.”

“This is a dreadful state of things!” said Mariano, who had listened to the narration in silent amazement.

“It is indeed dreadful,” returned Bacri, “and yet, although the European powers must be thoroughly aware of it, through their consuls, this is the state of things that they not only tolerate, but absolutely sanction by the presence of their representatives and the payment of tribute.”

“Tribute!” exclaimed Mariano, in a tone of indignation, “is it possible that tribute is paid by the great powers to these miserable pirates?”

“Even so, young man,” answered Bacri, with a smile, “just as we Jews pay them tribute to avoid being pillaged—only, without having our excuse. We are compelled to do it; but no one can suppose for a moment that a small power like Algiers can compel nearly all the maritime nations to bow before it. Nevertheless, the nations do submit, some of them to very humiliating terms. You saw the Swedish frigate conveying two store-ships that entered the port yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Well, these vessels contained the annual tribute due by Sweden, and that country is also bound by treaty to furnish the Dey with a person capable of directing his gunpowder factory! Denmark not only pays tribute, but is bound to pay it in naval stores, and her consul here is at present in disgrace because his country has failed to pay its tribute at the specified time. There is an American ship just now detained in port because the nation to which it belongs is also dilatory in paying up what is due by treaty, therefore the American consul is also in the Dey’s black books; and I may add in regard to him that, at the time of his appointment to his office, he gave the Dey a consular present of sixteen thousand Spanish dollars. Even that notorious warrior Napoleon, who is at present turning Europe upside down, thought it worth his while lately to send to the Dey a present of telescopes and other things to the amount of four thousand pounds; and England, that great nation which styles herself mistress of the seas, cannot enter the Mediterranean with her merchant ships until she has paid toll to this exacting city.”

“Now,” continued Bacri, stopping abruptly in his account of these matters, “I must not waste more time on a subject which is incomprehensible. Indeed, I would not have said so much were it not that the hour is yet too early for the undertaking which I have in view for you.

“Achmet, then, must be at once put on his guard; but to do so is no easy matter, for his enemies surround him. It would be impossible for me, or any one sent by me, to gain admittance to him. I am already under surveillance, and should forfeit my life were I to attempt it. The only method I can think of is to send to the British consul, and let him know what is pending. He is the only consul here to whom the Dey will grant an immediate unquestioning audience. You are active and strong, Mariano, and are, I believe, willing to aid me.”

“Indeed I am,” replied the youth fervently.

“I need scarcely tell you,” said Bacri sadly, “that you and your friends are intimately concerned in the safety of the present Dey, for if he falls it will go ill with all connected with him, especially with the Scrivano-Grande, your brother Lucien, and your father.”

“I guessed as much,” said Mariano, with an anxious look; “but, tell me, is there likely to be much danger to this house and its inmates?”

“I think not, I hope not, Mariano, but there is no place of absolute safety for me or mine in the city. I might indeed take refuge in the British consulate, but I prefer to remain where I am, and put my trust in God.”

“Then you and yours,” returned the youth, with hesitation, “may want the aid of a stout and willing arm. Is it well that I should leave you at this crisis?”

“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.

Chapter Fifteen.

In which Ted Flaggan and his Friend Rais Ali act a Conscious Part, and a Political Storm begins to break

There is unquestionably many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip, but on the present occasion there was no such slip. Mariano succeeded in diminishing and flattening himself to such an extent that the janissaries passed without observing him. The moment they were out of sight he glided from his hiding-place, and soon found his way to the top of the ramparts, near the Bab-Azoun gate. The head of Castello was at his elbow; the wearied Turkish sentinel was not a hundred yards distant Mariano could see him clearly defined against the eastern sky every time he reached the end of his beat.

“If he takes it into his head to walk this way, I am lost,” thought Mariano.

It seemed as if the man had heard the thought, for he walked slowly towards the spot where the youth lay at full length on the ground. There was no mound or niche or coping of any kind behind which a man might conceal himself. The dead man’s head was the only object that broke the uniformity of the wall. In desperation, Mariano lay down with it between himself and the advancing sentinel, and crept close to it—so close that while he lay there he fancied that a drop of something cold fell from it and mingled with the perspiration that stood in large beads upon his brow!

The sentinel stopped just as Mariano was preparing to spring upon and endeavour to strangle him. He looked earnestly and long in the direction of the dead man’s head, as if in meditation on its owner’s untimely fate, or, possibly, on the unusual length and solidity of the shadow that tailed away from it!

Fortunately he advanced no further, but, turning on his heel, walked slowly away. Just then the moon shot forth a ray of light from the midst of the cloud that had covered it, as if to cheer the fugitive on his desperate adventure. Instead of cheering, however, it alarmed him, and expedited his movements.

In a moment Mariano put a loop of his rope over the head and drew it tight on the spike close to the masonry. Another moment and he was over the parapet, down the wall, and into the ditch. Here again unusual caution was needful, but the youth’s cat-like activity enabled him to overcome all obstacles. In a few minutes he was speeding over the Sahel hills in the direction of Frais Vallon.