By Conduct and Courage: A Story of the Days of Nelson

At seven o’clock Will said:

“Now, father, I must be moving. Here are fifty guineas. They will last you for nearly a year. I’ll hand another fifty to Mr. Archer, and ask him to send you twenty pounds at a time. I’ll probably be back in England before it has all gone, and if not I will manage to find a means of sending more over to you.”

“I sha’n’t sleep,” the old woman said; “I never shall sleep with all that money in the house. It is sure to get known about, and I should never feel safe.”

“Very well, mother, take the money up to Mr. Warden, and ask him to hand you a guinea every Monday.”

“Tom Stevens,” said the old woman, “I will ask you to go up to the rectory with me this very evening. I daren’t keep it here, and I daren’t carry it through the village, for there might be a pedlar about, and everybody knows that pedlars are apt to be thieves.”

“Very well,” Tom said with a smile, “I will go with you, missis, when Will has left. I am big enough to tackle a pedlar if we meet one on the way.”

“Thank you very heartily, Tom! I’ll be comfortable now; but I should never get a wink of sleep with fifty gold guineas in the house.”

Will had noticed that the old couple’s clothes were sorely patched, and the next morning he purchased a complete new outfit for both. These he sent over by a carrier, with a note, saying: “My dear father, it is only right that you should start with a fair outfit, and I therefore send you and the missis a supply that will last you for some time.”

Tom Stevens came over two days later, and he and Will started together for London. On their arrival at Portsmouth they at once joined the Tartar, which was quite ready to sail, and which was under orders to join Lord Hood’s fleet in the Mediterranean.

CHAPTER XI

CAPTIVES AMONG THE MOORS

A week later the Tartar proceeded to the Mediterranean. One morning after cruising there for some weeks, when the light mist lifted, a vessel was seen some three miles away. The captain looked at her through his telescope.

“That is a suspicious-looking craft,” he said to the first lieutenant, Mr. Roberts. “We will lower a cutter and overhaul her.”

The cutter’s crew were at once mustered. Will was the midshipman in charge of her, and took his place by the side of the third lieutenant, Mr. Saxton. The lieutenant ordered the men to take their muskets with them.

“May I take Dimchurch and Stevens?” Will asked.

“Yes, if you like. There is room for them in the bow, and two extra muskets may be useful.”

The two men, who were standing close by, took their places when they heard the permission given.

“I certainly don’t like her appearance, Gilmore,” the lieutenant said. “I cannot help thinking that she is an Algerine by her rig; and though every Algerine is not necessarily a pirate, a very large number of them are. I fancy a breeze will spring up soon, and in that case we may have a long row before we overtake her.”

The breeze came presently, and the Algerine began to slip away. It was, however, but a puff, and the boat again began to gain on her. When they were five miles from the ship they were within a quarter of a mile from the chase.

“Confound the fellow!” the lieutenant muttered; “but I think I was mistaken, for there are not more than half a dozen men on her deck.”

At length the boat swept up to the side of the craft. As the men leapt to their feet a couple of round shot were thrown into the boat, one of them going through the bottom. The cutter immediately began to fill, and the men as they climbed up were confronted by fully a hundred armed Moors. Lieutenant Saxton was at once cut down, and most of the sailors suffered the same fate. As usual, Will, Dimchurch, and Stevens held together and fought back to back. The contest, however, was too uneven to last, and the Moorish captain came up to them and signed to them that they must lay down their arms.

“Do it at once,” Will said. “They evidently prefer to take us prisoners to killing us, which they could do without difficulty. We have been caught in a regular trap, and must make the best of it.”

So saying he threw down his cutlass, and the others followed his example.

They were taken down below with three other unwounded sailors, and the wounded and dead were at once thrown overboard.

“This is the worst affair we have been in together,” said Dimchurch, “since we fell into the hands of those negroes. Unless the Tartar overtakes us I am afraid we are in for a bad time.”

“I am afraid so, Dimchurch, and I fear that there is little chance indeed of the frigate overtaking us. In such a light wind this craft would run away from her, and with fully five miles start it would be useless for the boats to try to overtake her.”

“What are they going to do with us?”

“There is very little doubt about that. They will make slaves of us, and either set us to work on the fortifications or sell us to be taken up-country.”

“I don’t expect they will keep us long,” Dimchurch said grimly.

“I don’t know; they have great numbers of Christians whom they hold captive, and it is rare indeed that one of them escapes. I suppose some day or other we’ll send a fleet to root them out, but our hands are far too full for anything of that sort at present. If we have a chance of escape you may be sure that we’ll take it, but we had better make up our minds at once to make the best of things until opportunity offers.”

“I only hope we’ll be kept together, sir. I could put up with it if that were so, but it would be awful if we were separated; for even if one saw a chance for escape he could not let the others know.”

“You may be sure, Dimchurch, that whatever opportunity I might see I would not avail myself of it unless I could take you both off with me.”

“The same here, sir,” Dimchurch said; and the words were echoed by Tom.

Six days later they heard the anchor run down, and presently the hatchway was lifted and they were told to come on deck. They found, as they had expected, that the craft was lying in the harbour of Algiers. At any other time they might have admired the city, with its mosques and minarets, its massive fortifications, and the shipping in the port, but they were in no humour to do so now. They regarded it as their jail. They and the three sailors were put into a boat and rowed ashore, the captain of the craft going with them. They were met at the wharf by a Moor, who was evidently an official of rank. He and the captain held an animated conversation, and by their laughter Will had no doubt whatever that the captain was telling the clever manner in which he had effected their capture. Then the official said something which was not altogether pleasing to the captain, who, however, crossed his hands on his breast and bowed submissively. The official then handed the six prisoners over to some men who had accompanied him, and they were immediately marched across to a large barrack-like building, which was evidently a prison. Two hours afterwards a great troop of captives came in. These were so worn and wearied that they asked but few questions of the new-comers.

“Don’t talk about it,” one said in answer to a question from Will. “There is not one of us who would not kill himself if he got the chance. It is work, work, work from daybreak till sunset. We have enough to eat to keep us alive; we are too valuable to be allowed to die. We get food before we start in the morning, again at mid-day, and again when we get back here. Oh, they are very careful of us, but they don’t mind how we suffer! The sun blazes down all day, and not a drop of drink do we get except at meals. In spite of their care we slip through their hands. Sunstroke and fever are always thinning our ranks. That is the history of it, mate, and if I were to talk till morning I could not tell you more. I suppose by your cut that you are a man-of-war’s-man?”

“You’re right,” Dimchurch said. “We got caught in a trap, and our nine mates were killed without having a chance to fire a shot.”

“Ah!” the man said with a sigh, “I wish I had had their luck, and you will wish so too before you have been here long.”

Rough food was served out, and then the slaves, after eating, lay down without exchanging a word, anxious only to sleep away the thought of their misery. The three friends lay down together. To each prisoner a small rug had been served out, and this was their only bedding.

“We are certainly in a bad corner,” Dimchurch said, “but the great point will be to keep up our spirits and make the best of it.”

“That is so,” Will agreed. “I am convinced that, however sharp a watch they may keep, three resolute men will find some way of escape. We’ll know a little more about it to-morrow. If there are windows to this building we ought to be able to get out of them, and if it is surrounded by walls we ought to be able to scale them. Besides, if we are set to work in the city we might find an opportunity of evading the diligence of our guards. For one thing, we must assume an air of cheerfulness while we work. In time, when they see that we do our work well and are contented and obedient, their watch will relax. Above all, we must not, like these poor fellows, make up our minds that our lot is hopeless. If we once lose hope we shall lose everything. At any rate, for the present we must wait patiently. We have still got to find out everything; all we know is that we are confined in a prison, and that we shall have to do some work or other during the day.

“We have got to find out the plan of the city and its general bearings, to learn something, if we can, of the surrounding country, and to see how we should manage to subsist if we got away. Of course the natural idea would be to make for the sea and steal a boat. But we came up from the shore through an archway in the wall; it was strongly guarded, and I fear it would be next to impossible to get down to the port. Our best plan, I think, would be to take to the country if we can, and go down to the shore some distance from the city. We might then light upon a boat belonging to some fisherman. Of course all this is pure conjecture, and all we can arrange is that we shall keep our eyes about us, and look for an empty house in which we might hide and discover how we might leave the town on the land side, where it is not likely the fortifications will be nearly so strong as on the sea-face.”

The next morning the captives were deprived of their clothes, and in their place were given dirty linen jackets and loose trousers. Their shoes were also taken away. They then fell in with the rest of the captives. On leaving the prison they were formed into companies, each of which, under a strong guard, marched off in different directions. The three friends kept close together, and were assigned to a company which was told off to clean the streets of a certain quarter of the town. They were furnished with brooms and brushes, and were soon hard at work. As the morning went on, the heat became tremendous. Several men fell, but the overseers lashed them until they got upon their feet again.

“My eye! this is like working in an oven,” Dimchurch muttered; “the dust is choking me. We must certainly get out of this as soon as we can, sir.”

“I agree with you, Dimchurch. I feel as if I were melting away. If I were to put a bit of food in my mouth I believe the heat would bake it in no time.”

“I couldn’t swallow anything,” Tom said, “not even a mackerel fresh out of the sea.”

“You know we agreed that we must make the best of everything,” Will said. “If we work as we are doing we can’t but please our overseers, and shall save ourselves from blows.”

“They had better not strike me,” Dimchurch said; “the man that did it would never live to strike another.”

“That might be,” Will said, “but it would be a small satisfaction to you if you were to be flogged to death afterwards.”

“No, I suppose not, sir; but flesh and blood can’t stand such a thing as being struck by one of these yellow hounds.”

At twelve o’clock the gang returned, and the men drank eagerly from a fountain in the courtyard of the prison.