Читать книгу The G.A. Henty MEGAPACK ® - G.a. Henty Henty - Страница 13

AT ABOUKIR AND ACRE (Part 2)

CHAPTER VIII

AN EGYPTIAN TOMB

While the Arabs were preparing breakfast, Edgar searched for a spot where the sheik could lie in shelter during the mid-day heat; for, hot as it was on the desert sands, the heat was fully as great on the bare rocks of the hills. After some search he found a spot where two ledges of rock ran parallel to each other, with a passage of some six feet between them, on each side of which they rose perpendicularly some twelve feet in height. The fissures ran nearly north and south, and therefore, except for an hour at noon, the bottom was entirely in shade.

It was within half a mile of the spot where they encamped for the night; and returning, the sheik was carried there at once, and was laid on the blanket. The spears were found to be long enough to reach across at the top. The blanket that had formed the hammock being unrolled, it formed a sort of awning that could, when the sun was high, be moved a little one way or the other, so as to keep him in the shade. Learning from the sheik in which direction the tombs that he had spoken of were situated, Edgar started with Hassan, and after half an hour’s walking came upon them. They were, for the most part, square-cut holes in the face of the perpendicular rock. Some of them were only flanked by pilasters cut in the stone; others had more ornate designs. All had originally been closed by great stone slabs. These had long since been moved or broken up by treasure-seekers. The plan of most of them was similar—a short passage, terminated by a chamber of from ten to twenty feet square. Vestiges of the paintings that originally covered the walls could still be seen. Choosing one of the larger tombs, Edgar aided Hassan to remove fragments of stones that projected above the dust and sand, which lay six inches deep over the floor. Well satisfied, he returned to the sheik.

“We have found a good place,” he said. “The air was quite cool in there, and the sand will make a much more comfortable bed than this bare rock.”

The sheik made no reply, but lay looking at him with an expression that puzzled him, and he was about to turn to Sidi to ask whether his father was worse, when the latter said, “While you have been away my son has been telling me all that you have done for him, and that it was you who saved his life as well as mine. I am weak now, I cannot say what is in my heart, it is too full for words.”

“Don’t say any thing about it, sheik,” Edgar said earnestly. “Did you not adopt me into your tribe? Does not Sidi call me brother? Have you not sheltered me in your tents when I had nowhere else to go? Is it not natural then that I should do all in my power to repay these benefits, and to rescue you and my brother Sidi from the hands of your enemies? I deem myself most fortunate that I have been enabled to do so, and, indeed, ran but little risk in either case. It was a small thing to search for you among the dead, and to have you carried off; while, having found the disguise of a European, there was no risk of my being recognized as having fought against the French when I went to testify in favour of Sidi. Save as to my own name I had need to go but little beyond the truth. I had won Sidi’s gratitude by aiding him against two ruffians. He had slain a man who was about to attack me, though that did not take place, as they supposed, at the time of the massacre of the European shopkeepers, but the main facts were true, and there was no fear that in the telling of them I should get myself into trouble.”

The sheik shook his head. “’Tis well to say so, my friend, and I suppose that it is the way with your people to make but little of their good actions. It was not the risk you may have run. Many men are brave, and we who charged that column of Franks, after those in front of us had been swept away by their cannon, have a right to say that we are not cowards; but you see the difference: Sidi and I thought you dead, but beyond resolving to avenge you, we did nothing. The idea that we might disguise ourselves, and, after the Franks had advanced, gone and searched the streets and found whether you were still living, never occurred to us, and I think that no Arab would have thought of it.

“But you had scarcely passed through the first danger of being discovered than you began to think of us. You learnt that many Arabs had been killed when we poured out of the city, and that others had been taken prisoners. Wounded yourself, you lose no moment in finding my two followers. All night you search among the dead for me, and carry me off to a place of safety. Then, without rest, without pause, you return to the city and begin to take measures to rescue Sidi. He was in the citadel, strongly guarded by French troops. There was but one way of succeeding. You thought of that way. You planned it all out. You invented a likely story, which was yet very close to the truth. You went into the midst of the men that you have been fighting against, and you so sustained the character that you had chosen, that none of the French officers suspected for a moment that you were aught but what you seemed, and so, listening to your pleading on his behalf, let him go free. Well did I say, the other day, that though we might be beaten, I believed that you and my son would escape, for that Allah had clearly sent you to save him from danger, and that he would therefore assuredly preserve you both.”

“It is Allah, who is our God as well as yours, who is to be thanked, sheik, that all our lives have been preserved,” Edgar said reverently, “and that we are again united when so many have perished.”

In spite of the shade of the blanket overhead, Edgar found it tremendously hot in the middle of the day, but as soon as the sun had passed west, he was able to get some hours’ comfortable sleep. A short time before sunset they started again and carried the sheik to the cave. The two Arabs did this while Edgar and Sidi loitered behind pulling up the parched-up bushes that grew here and there among the rocks, and making them into faggots. As soon, therefore, as the sheik was laid down the fire was lighted, giving a cheerful air to the dark chamber. Ali and Hassan went down again and brought up the provisions, water, and bundles. The air was cool and pleasant in the tomb, and a hearty meal was made by all but the sheik, who, however, not only drank a cup of broth, but ate some dates with something like an appetite.

“Now, sheik,” Edgar said, after he had put some more sticks upon the fire, “we can chat about our future plans. I have been talking with Sidi. It must be a fortnight or three weeks before you are fit to sit a horse again. It is very fortunate, by the way, that you sent your favourite horse, as well as Sidi’s and mine, back by two of your followers from the Pyramids when you decided to enter the town; and that we rode other horses in that charge in Cairo. It would have been a loss, indeed, if those noble steeds of ours had been all killed.”

“That was one of my first thoughts when I was able to think,” the sheik said. “Next to my wife, my son, and you, I love Zeila, and it would have sorely spoiled my joy that we are reunited, had she fallen in the battle. It was your advice that saved her life also.”

“My idea is,” Edgar went on, “that either Hassan or Ali shall go back to the town, get one of their horses, and ride to the oasis, where all your spare horses and some of your followers are.”

“I have thirty men there,” the sheik said. “I thought it as well not to bring all, for had misfortune happened, the women and children would have been left without protectors; but there is surely no occasion for Hassan to go yet. In three days he might be there, and be back in another three, and though I hope to mend quickly, surely I could not mount a horse in a week’s time.”

“That I quite see, sheik, but as your wife and the women are there also, I thought it well that he should start at once. Two or three of your men may have escaped from that fight. They would be sure to make for the oasis, and will doubtless report that all, save themselves, have been killed. Your wife will be mourning for you and Sidi as dead, and it is for that reason that I would send one of the men at once with the good news.”

“How thoughtful you are, lad! No gray-beard could think of things more than you do. I had not once thought that the news might reach her; but, as you say, it may well be that two or three at least of my men may have escaped. Ali shall start to-morrow at daybreak, but when he has given his message to my wife, what next is he to do?”

“I should say, sheik, that he should bid your men be at the Great Pyramid in twenty-one days from this, and that on the following morning you will join them there at daybreak.”

“I may be well enough before that,” the sheik said.

“That we cannot say for certain,” Edgar said; “’tis best that we should name a date when we may hope that you will be fit to ride long and far again if need be. We know not what are the plans of the French, but ’tis like enough that though they may have granted pardon to the people of the city, Bonaparte will endeavour to strike some heavy blows at the Arabs. He knows how terribly they harassed him on his march here, and that wheresoever his troops may move, they will again swarm round him. He has overawed Cairo, and can safely leave a small garrison there if he marches away. And he may well seek to overawe the Arabs by making expeditions against their oases, which he can now easily do, as his cavalry are all mounted on Egyptian horses, capable of supporting thirst and making long journeys, and he may think that by striking at your camping-places, cutting down your palm-trees, and filling up your wells, he may compel you to promise to cease from all attacks upon his troops.”

“He might certainly damage us greatly in that way,” the sheik agreed; “but few of his horses are equal to ours. You may be sure that the tribes near Alexandria, who basely sold him horses, did not part with their best, while those the Franks took at Cairo are not accustomed to the desert, save, indeed, those of the Mamelukes, of whom there were few, for most of their horses were killed with their masters. But were they even as well mounted as we are, they might indeed reach our oases and do terrible damage, as for ourselves, we could laugh at them, for they would have to carry far heavier weights. It is not that the French soldiers are heavier than we are, but with their riding-boots, their accoutrements, their valises, and other matters, they would ride from forty to fifty pounds heavier than we should, and their horses, unaccustomed to such burdens, would soon tire. Would it not be well to bid, say, four men, to come straight hither to act as a guard?”

“I think not, sheik; the fewer of us there are about here the better, and were we discovered, four men or forty would be useless. We might defend the mouth of the tomb for a short time, but even were we to beat off every attack, it would be but a matter of hours before we were forced to surrender for want of water. Hassan can start with Ali to-morrow morning, and bring the second horse back here; it will be very useful for bringing up water and provisions. And now that Hassan has his peasant dress on, he would attract little attention were he noticed riding among the hills. I will tell him to buy two more skins, larger than those we have. The four will then bring up sufficient water to last us and the horse for three days at least, so that he will only have to make an occasional journey down to the village. Indeed, there are several villages within a short distance of each other on the river bank, and by going sometimes to one and sometimes to another for food and water, he will not attract attention at all.”

“So be it,” the sheik said. His voice now had weakened, and, after drinking some more broth, he composed himself for sleep—an example which was speedily imitated by the others. Sidi gave Ali and Hassan the necessary instructions, and before they started, Edgar took the former apart and had a private conversation with him.

“It is possible, Ali, that the sheik’s wife will, when you arrive there, want to start at once to attend him. If she does, do not try to dissuade her, it will be a great comfort to him to have her with him, and will aid his recovery. I know that she is skilful in the dressing of wounds, and will be able to cook things such as he would like, far better than we could. No one can guide her here but yourself. Of course, when you are once fairly across the river, you will take off that long blue gown, and ride in your Arab dress, and she will ride with you in her own dress, until you get within a short distance of the river; beyond that, of course, you will again put the peasant’s dress on; and before you start to-day get such a dress also for her, and let her slip it on over her own.

“It were best that you did not approach the ferry until it is getting dark. You would do well to bring a comrade to take the two horses back; Ayala could not use them. One frequently sees women riding on donkeys, but for a peasant woman to be mounted on a horse would be unusual. Besides, we should not know what to do with them here, and they would have to go down every day for water. If you start at noon to-day from Cairo, you will be there on the afternoon of the third day, and if you start again next morning will be here on the sixth day. I will light a fire a short distance from the front of the cave so as to act as a guide to you when you get into the rough ground. If you are not here that night I shall know that she is not coming. I shall say nothing about it to the sheik or Sidi; it is better that they should not be looking forward to it. If she did not come they might be fearing that some misadventure had happened on the journey. In any case, you understand that you are not to propose it to her, but are to remain altogether silent on the subject unless she herself insists on coming.”

Hassan returned with the horse carrying the four water-skins and some provisions, including a supply of coffee, just as darkness set in; he reported that Ali had started before noon. The next six days passed quietly. Hassan went down twice with the horse for water, fresh meat, fowls, and other provisions, and a supply of grain for the horse, which was stabled in the next tomb to that they occupied. The sheik gained strength, slowly indeed but steadily. At each meal he took a basin of broth prepared either from fresh meat or chicken, and to Edgar’s satisfaction his hands remained cool, and there were no signs of fever. On the sixth day he was able to sit up, leaning against the wall of the chamber.

At dusk that evening Edgar strolled out, as he usually did, to enjoy the cool evening air. He told Hassan to accompany him, and they soon plucked up some withered and dead bushes among those growing between the rocks. These were piled some twenty yards on one side of the entrance to the tomb. Then Hassan went into the chamber, picked up a piece of glowing charcoal out of the fire with which to light his pipe, placed it on the bowl, and after taking two or three draws, went out into the air. The piece of charcoal was placed among some dried leaves and twigs and blown until a flame shot up. Then some dried sticks, which had been collected for the purpose, were placed carefully on this, and the fire soon burned up.

“That will do, Hassan,” Edgar said. “I don’t want a big blaze that can be seen a long distance away. You sit here and feed it carefully, so as to keep up the flame not more than a foot or two in height.”

Hassan obeyed the orders. Ali had told him on leaving that he might possibly return with the sheik’s wife, but that he was not to mention it to Sidi or the sheik himself. Edgar walked up and down near the fire. An hour later he heard voices below, and gave an exclamation of pleasure, and two or three minutes later Ali and Ayala appeared within the circle of light, the former leading the horse on which she was sitting.

“How is he?” she exclaimed, as she slipped from the saddle, and hurried forward to meet Edgar.

“He is getting on very well; he is gaining strength, and has had no fever. I will lead you to him. Hassan, you can put out that fire now, but bring some of the brands into the tomb; they will make a cheerful blaze. Perhaps you had better do that before we go in. If the sheik asks why you do it, say it is by my orders, and that I thought it would be more cheerful than the glow of the charcoal.

“He will not be a minute, Ayala, and were you to go in now you would scarce see him or he you.”

With the patient obedience of Arab women she stopped at once.

“Ali has told me,” she said, turning to him, “how much you have done for us, and how you saved the lives of both my husband and son.”

“I was fortunate in being able to do so,” he replied, “and that without the slightest risk to myself.” Then changing the subject, he went on, “I thought that you would wish to come.”

“Certainly I should,” she said. “My place is by his side. And is Sidi well also? And you—Ali said that you also were wounded?”

“Mine was a trifling business,” he said, “and Sidi’s not much worse. We both suffered from loss of blood, which perhaps is a good thing, as we have had no fever, and though our wounds are somewhat sore, we have almost ceased to think of them. There, I can see by the light that the fire is burning up inside. Now we will go in. Keep a little way behind me; it would startle him were you to go in suddenly.”

He walked into the tomb.

“Sheik,” he said, “here is a friend come to see you.”

“A friend!” the sheik repeated in surprise. “Who is it?”

“She has ridden all the way from the oasis, sheik. I was sure she would come. She is your wife!” and Ayala ran forward and threw herself upon her knees by the side of the sheik. Edgar went out with Hassan, and left them and Sidi together.

Ayala now took the entire charge of the sheik. Edgar went down frequently to one or other of the villages on the river bank, partly for change and exercise, partly to learn what he was doing at Cairo. He heard that, under the direction of French engineers, the greater portion of the population of Cairo were employed in building forts on elevated positions round the town, where the guns would completely dominate the city, that it was said that the Sultan had declared war with France, and that an army from Syria had advanced and had established itself at a fort in the desert half-way between the frontier of Syria and Egypt.

“I made sure,” he said, after talking the news over with the shiek and Sidi, “that the Sultan would be driven to declare war against the French. It would have been impossible for him to have allowed the French permanently to establish themselves as masters of his province of Egypt. Even if he himself had been willing to suffer it, the whole Moslem population would have risen against him. No doubt the news of the destruction of the French fleet decided him to take this step. Now that no more reinforcements can reach them here, he may well consider that his army is capable of annihilating them. The Turks are good soldiers—that is to say, they have always shown themselves capable of fighting desperately when well led.

“Unfortunately, that is not likely to be the case. The pashas have no experience in war, while the French have the best generals in Europe. The Turks are badly disciplined, while the French are veteran soldiers with perfect confidence in themselves and in their leaders. Still, in any case, this will greatly increase Napoleon’s difficulties; he will have to send the greater portion of his army to meet the Turks, at the same time will have to keep Egypt in subjection. The British government will be blind if they do not see that the opportunity is a grand one for striking a blow at the French, and I should think that they would ere long send an army out here, though they may not do so unless they see that the Turks alone can do nothing against them.”

Later Edgar heard that columns of French cavalry had gone out into the desert and had driven away the bodies of Arabs that had assembled again a few miles off the Nile. They had, however, been unable to gain any advantages over them, as the Arabs had always fallen back upon their approach, and the French, finding pursuit useless, had returned to the city. Once or twice a few Arabs had been killed when the cavalry had been so closely followed by a battery of artillery that the Arabs were unaware that the French had guns with them, and had therefore contented themselves with keeping beyond carbine shot, their first intimation of their presence having been when the cavalry rode rapidly to the right and left, leaving the guns exposed.

Even then their loss had been slight, for the slight undulations of the desert afforded shelter, and riding at full speed along some hollow they were almost out of range before the artillery could limber up after the first discharge of their guns and advance to a position whence they could see their flying foes.

By the end of the three weeks the sheik was strong enough to walk up and down for some time in front of the tomb, and he declared himself quite able to make the journey. Edgar had some doubt on the subject, but he knew that the Arabs were so thoroughly at home on their horses that they scarcely felt the slightest inconvenience after the longest day’s journey, and Zeila’s pace was so easy and smooth that he hoped the chief might not suffer from it.

At two o’clock on the morning of the day when the band would be awaiting them at the Pyramids the party started. All, save the sheik, were in their peasant disguises. He was in his Arab dress, disdaining, however great the occasion, to put on the dress of a peasant. He wore, however, a dark burnoose which completely covered his figure. Edgar and Sidi had, the day before, carefully examined the face of the hill, and had found a track by which peasants drove up their goats to pasture among the hills at the time when the shrubs were sufficiently fresh and green for them to browse. The chief mounted the horse with an exclamation of pleasure at finding himself again in the saddle. The two lads led the way a pace or two in front of the horse. Ayala walked by the side of her husband. Hassan and Ali followed behind with the second horse.

The descent required great care. Although Sidi carried a torch, it took them upwards of an hour to get to the foot of the hills. When on the level ground Ayala was assisted to mount Ali’s horse, and they went more briskly along. There was, however, no occasion for haste, for the ferry was but four miles away, and the boat would not cross until dawn. Ali, however, had gone down on the previous day and had bargained with the ferryman to be ready, as soon as it was light, to take over a party who had a long journey to make. Dawn was just breaking as they reached the banks of the river. A few moments later the ferryman arrived. He looked surprised at seeing an Arab with four peasants, but made no remark; he was to be well paid for getting up two hours earlier than usual, and it was no business of his whether an Arab crossed or not. The sheik, his wife, and the two lads first got on board, then Ali and Hassan led the horses and stood by their side as the boat pushed out from the shore. In ten minutes they were across. As soon as they landed, the sheik and Ayala mounted and set off at an amble—a pace between a walk and a trot, the two legs on each side moving together. This pace is in general use among horses in Egypt and Turkey, and is as comfortable and easy as a walk.

The sun had risen half an hour when they neared the Pyramid. As soon as they were seen a party of thirty horsemen dashed out and rode towards them at full gallop, brandishing their spears or guns over their heads, and as they approached uttering shouts of welcome. Sidi and the two Arabs had, like Ayala, taken off their peasant smocks and caps, and had wound their turbans round their heads as soon as they had landed. To them the disguise was very repugnant, for the Arabs looked down with supreme contempt upon the fellah population of Egypt. Edgar had followed their example, not from any dislike to the dress, but because he thought that the sheik would prefer rejoining his followers, with the whole party dressed in Arab costume.

There was no doubting the genuineness of the welcome that the Beni Ouafy gave their chief. Until Ali had arrived with news of their escape, they, like his wife, had deemed that he and his son had fallen, and there was deep emotion in their faces as they circled round and round the little party, discharging their guns, tossing their spears in the air, catching them as they fell, and shouting their welcome. The sheik and those with him fired off their guns as the party came up, and the sheik, in spite of his efforts to maintain the impassive expression of his face, was evidently much moved. As soon as the demonstration ceased he started again without a word. The others followed his example, and they rode in a body until they reached the Pyramids, when he dismounted. In an instant all were off their horses and gathered round him.

“My brothers,” he said, “I thank you for my welcome. It gladdens my heart to be among you again, but I cannot forget that many saddles have been emptied, that many of our women are widows and their children fatherless. I rode away with fifty men. I hear that but ten, and they all wounded, returned to your tents. Two, Ali and Hassan, remained with the horses; the rest met their death with their face to the foe, dying as a Moslem should do in defence of his faith and his country. But the loss to us is a grievous one; half of our fighting strength is gone. You have heard from Ali that had it not been for this brave young friend, whom you regard as one of yourselves, since he is my son’s adopted brother, both I and my son would have died. Later I will tell you how he sought for and carried me senseless from among the dead upon the field of battle, and how he ventured into the council of the Franks and by stratagem persuaded them to free my son, who was one of the Arab prisoners.

“It will be a tale to tell your children how this English lad, himself wounded, saved the lives of the sheik of your tribe and his son. But this is no time for telling it to you in full now. See, there is a great dust rising by the river; it is probably the cavalry of the Franks, with perhaps some guns. They are far away yet, but it will not be long before they are here. I have resolved to journey quietly back to our home. I feel that it will be some time ere I shall be fit to ride fast and far. My wife will, of course, accompany me. I will take Ali and Hassan and two others. We shall travel quietly and slowly, and shall keep well out from the river, so as to run no risk of falling in with any fresh party. The rest of you will ride back to fetch the women and children, with the camels and other animals, and to warn my brother that bodies of French cavalry are moving about, devastating the oases, cutting down palm-trees, and filling up wells. I should advise him, for the sake of the tribe, to hasten to make his submission, which, as he did not take part in the rising in Cairo, he may well be able to do, though they will perhaps send him into that town, and hold him as a hostage for his people. Now bring out the horses.”

Zeila was first brought up, and her delight was as great as that of the sheik at the meeting, but there was no time for prolonged endearments. After a few loving words to the horse the sheik mounted. Ayala, who was to ride behind him, was lifted to her seat, Ali and Hassan, with two men the sheik picked out, sprang into their saddles, and the party started north. Then Sidi and Edgar mounted their own steeds and set out with the rest towards the south-west. By this time the French were within a mile of them, and it could be made out that they were a body of some fifteen hundred cavalry, who were, as far as could be seen, unaccompanied by guns.

“’Tis probable that they are going a long distance,” Edgar said, “and that the guns would much delay them, for it is hard work indeed dragging them over the sands.”

The French had already experienced that they had no chance of overtaking the Arabs, and the cavalry accordingly paid no attention to so small a party, but continued their journey at a trot. After riding for four or five miles they were left far behind by the tribesmen, but the dust-cloud showed their position.

“They are coming exactly the way that we are,” Sidi said, looking back; “it may be that they are bound for my uncle’s oasis.”

“It would be as well to find that out, Sidi. Do you give me two of your best mounted men and then ride straight on with the others. We will remain here till they approach, and then ride on for another eight or ten miles, still keeping them in sight. They will assuredly camp at the wells of Orab if they are making for the oasis. These are about twenty miles from the Nile, and they will go no further to-day, for it is as much again before they come to another well. When we have with certainty made out that they are making for the wells of Orab, we will follow you at full speed, but do not wait for us, and, save to give your horses a drink, do not draw rein till you reach your people and deliver your father’s message. I don’t suppose that I shall overtake you before you get there, but I shall not be long after you, and my report may decide him what he had best do.”

Sidi at once picked out two men who were, he knew, among the best mounted of the tribe, and told them to remain with Edgar and act under his orders. Then at a much more rapid pace than before he pursued his journey. Edgar and his men dismounted, sitting down on the sands until the French were again within a mile of them, then they cantered on ahead. The French had followed so exactly the line along which the party had ridden that Edgar felt quite convinced that they were making for the wells. However, he kept at the same distance ahead of them until the Arabs told him that they were now within five miles of the water.

“Then we will go on,” he said. “It is certain now that they are going there, and as you say there are no camping grounds within many miles of the wells, I think it is certain that they are bound for the oasis of the Beni Ouafy.”

They now rode at full speed to the wells. Here for a quarter of an hour they halted, refilled their water-skins, gave the horses a drink and a handful of dried dates, eat a few themselves, and then started on their long ride. Had not Edgar had perfect confidence in the Arabs’ knowledge of the country he would have felt uneasy, as hour after hour they rode across wastes of sand without, so far as he could see, any landmark whatever to guide their course. He remarked this to them. Both smiled.

“You Franks can make your way over the sea when there is nothing whatever to guide you,” one of the men said; “it would be strange if we could not do the same over the land that we have traversed many times before.”

“At sea they have a compass with a needle that points always to the north, so that they know in what direction they are going.”

“We have the sun,” one of the Arabs answered; “but even without that we could find our way, and do so even on the darkest night. The horses know the way as well as we do. When they have once journeyed over a track they never forget it, and even did they swerve a little it would not matter, for they can smell water miles away, and would always, if unguided, make for it.”

At ten in the evening Edgar rode into the Bedouins’ encampment, having passed over eighty miles since leaving the Pyramid. Sidi’s party had arrived there half an hour earlier, and he found that his friend was now in the tent of the sheik. Edgar went there at once, and Sidi introduced him to his uncle, who was some years older than his father.

“I am rejoiced to see you,” the sheik said gravely. “I heard how you had before befriended Sidi, and the messenger who arrived here told us how you had saved the lives of my brother and nephew, and I wanted to see your face.

“Truly you are young, indeed, to have done such wonderful deeds, and to have so much wisdom, as well as courage. Sidi tells me that some fifteen hundred of the Frankish cavalry are riding hither.”

“I think that there can be no doubt of it,” Edgar replied. “Certainly they have gone to the wells of Orab. We left them but a short distance from it. They will camp there to-night. They may, for aught I know, change their direction to-morrow, but in any case it will be three days before they are here. They would not journey more than twenty miles a day.”

“They are too strong for us to fight,” the sheik said. “I was at the battle near Cairo, though, as we arrived late, and did not know at what point my brother’s men were gathered, I did not join them, but when all was over rode off with Mourad and his Mamelukes. I can put but six hundred horsemen in the field at short notice; though, had I a week’s time, I could call up another four hundred, who are encamped at some wells far away to the west. But even were they here I could not venture to engage in open fight with fifteen hundred Franks.

“I have given orders that at daybreak the tents shall be struck, and all the women and children, with the baggage and as many bunches of dates as the camels can carry, shall start at once for the wells of Azim, seventy miles away. It is a long journey, and there is no water by the way, so there is no fear of the French following. There are already a hundred of my tents there, for although this oasis is a large one, being nigh eight miles long and two wide, it is not large enough for the whole of my people. The one at Azim is smaller, but it will support us for a time; and there is an abundance of water for the camels, which number twelve hundred, and the sheep and goats, of which there are about two thousand. A hundred of my men will ride with them as a guard, and to drive the animals.

“With the others I shall, if the Franks do damage here, harass them on their retreat, and by dashing among them at night will do them such harm that they may regret the day that they came hither. Sidi will start in the morning with the women and camels of his father’s branch of the tribe. I shall send in the morning two horsemen with a white flag to meet the Franks, and to tell them, in my name, that none of my followers have aught to do with the affair in Cairo, and that I desire to live in peace with them. Upon their return I shall know what to do.”

An Arab woman now brought in refreshments, consisting of a pillau and sherbet, after which coffee was handed round, and Sidi and Edgar threw themselves down on heaps of blankets for a few hours’ sleep. As soon as day broke, the encampment was a scene of bustle and confusion. The women pulled down the tents, rolled up the blankets composing them, and fastened the poles in bundles. Numbers of men scattered to cut bunches of dates, and of these huge piles were collected. Three hours later the camels were brought up, and men and women alike employed in loading them. This occupied over an hour. As soon as it was completed, the women and children took their places on the top of the burdens, and the camels at once filed off, three abreast.

A party with the sheep, goats, and spare horses had started as soon as it was light. The rest of the escort scattered themselves along on each side of the long column of camels. Sidi’s party left at the same hour. The sheik up to that time had been engaged in superintending the arrangements for shifting camp, and asked Sidi and Edgar to stop behind for an hour or two in order that he might hear a full account of the events at Cairo. When the story was finished they partook of a meal, and then, after saying adieu, mounted and rode off, and in an hour’s time overtook the slow-moving cavalcade. Six days’ travel took them to their old camping-ground, where the sheik, with his little party, had arrived three days previously.

CHAPTER IX

SIR SIDNEY SMITH

The first intimation that Napoleon received that the Sultan had declared war with France, was the news that an army from Syria had advanced and established itself at a fort in the desert half-way between the frontier of that country and Egypt. He had, in the interval, endeavoured to make himself familiar with the country. Forts had been erected all round Cairo on heights dominating the town, so that a comparatively small force could overawe the population. He himself paid two visits to Suez. Desaix had pushed the Mamelukes still farther into Upper Egypt; a division had established the French authority at Damietta and Rosetta, and every arrangement was made by which the main body of the army could move away with a fair hope that Egypt would remain quiet during its absence.

It was now the beginning of December. During the journey down to the coast Edgar had thought seriously of his position. It seemed to him that, although finally the French would have to evacuate Egypt, a long time might elapse before this took place, and he finally came to the resolution to attempt to escape. He was doing neither himself nor his father any good by remaining. He had already witnessed a great battle by land, and one by sea, and he thought, by returning home and rejoining his father, he would be better employed in acquiring commercial knowledge in a business in London than in remaining in Egypt. Accordingly, on the day after his arrival at the oasis he mounted and rode into Alexandria, and entered his father’s place of business for the first time since the French had landed. Muller did not recognize him as he entered, owing to his Arab dress and coloured skin. There were two native clerks present, and Edgar went up to him, and said in a low voice:

“I want to talk with you, Mr. Muller.” The latter started slightly on hearing the voice, but only requested him in Arabic to follow him into the inner office, then he closed the door.

“My dear Edgar,” he said, “I am delighted to see you. I have been in great uneasiness about you. I had no doubt that you were with that Bedouin chief, but whether he had taken part against the French, or remained quiet, I knew not, and have been for a long time expecting to hear from you.”

Edgar gave him a brief sketch of what he had been doing since he had been away, and then said, “I am desirous of making my way to England. Of course it will be impossible to go direct, but if I could get to Italy, I might get a ship home from there.”

“That would not be difficult. No large Italian vessels come in here, but small ones do so not infrequently. They generally bring spirits, wines, and other goods that command a ready sale here, and they make a considerable profit on their trading. No doubt you could obtain a passage in one of these.”

“And how goes on business, Mr. Muller?” Edgar asked after the question of the passage had been discussed for some time.

“We have been pretty busy ever since the French arrived. Many of the transports and store ships received damage on their voyage. We have had a fair share of the work. Before you go I will draw up a short statement of what we have done, for your father. I am on very good terms with the French general and his staff. I represented to them that your father had, on seeing the approach of their fleet, determined to abandon his business altogether and leave the country, and that having saved a considerable sum during my service with him, I was able to purchase from him the heavy goods that he could not take away with him, and arranged to conduct the business on my own account. I may tell you what perhaps you did not know, that, before leaving, your father executed a deed of partnership with me, by which he gave me a fourth share in the business, and moreover arranged that I was to receive half the profit of it during the French occupation. On his return it was arranged that the business should be conducted under the name of Blagrove, Son, & Muller.”

“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Muller. My father indeed mentioned to me, some months before he left, that he intended to take you into partnership, and that possibly he should, after a time, leave me here with you and should fix himself in London and carry on the business of the firm there, so the French invasion has only hastened it on. Of course I have my European clothes here, and though I fancy I have grown a couple of inches in the last five months, I daresay they will do very well for me. The best plan will be to take the passage for me as a French lad, the son of a trader in Cairo, who, in view of the late events there, his father is sending home.”

“I will look at my sailing lists,” Mr. Muller said, “and will see if any Italian craft is intending to sail in the next day or two.”

He left the room, and returned in two or three minutes.

“There is one bound for Naples. She will sail on Saturday, so there are four days to make your preparations.”

“That will do well,” Edgar said; “on Friday evening I will be here.”

He had, on the previous evening, acquainted the sheik and his son of his intention. Both had expressed deep regret, but acknowledged that his arguments in favour of the plan he proposed were so strong that they could urge nothing against them. On the Friday afternoon the sheik and Sidi both rode down to Alexandria with him. The former returned that evening to his camp, one of his followers taking Edgar’s horse, which they promised to keep for him until his return, as he assured them that it would be next to impossible to get a passage for it to England, and that even could he do so it might die during the voyage, and moreover that it would be useless to him in London. Sidi slept at the house, and accompanied him on board on the following morning.

The Italian craft was a brig of about a hundred and fifty tons burden, but as Edgar was the only passenger the accommodation was ample. A few minutes after he stepped on board the crew began to get up the anchor, and as soon as this was done, Mr. Muller and Sidi said good-bye and returned to shore. Edgar had, on coming on board, spoken a few words to the captain, who was glad to find that his passenger spoke Italian fluently. The wind was very light, and the brig made but little progress, and five days after sailing was still a hundred miles south of the Italian coast. Edgar, however, greatly enjoyed the time. He was in no particular hurry, and the comparatively cool air and the fresh green of the sea was delightful to him after the dry heat and sandy waste of Egypt.

On the sixth day a vessel-of-war was seen in the west. The captain felt no uneasiness; coming from Alexandria, a French vessel would regard him as a friend, while a British ship would certainly not interfere with an Italian trader, for the court of Naples was most friendly, and a portion at least of the British fleet were off the town. The ship-of-war was bringing up the breeze with her, and came along fast, and ere long the captain was able to declare that she was British. As she approached they found that she was the Tigre, an eighty-gun ship captured some time before from the French. When she came near she fired a gun across the bows of the brig, which at once lowered her sails. The man-of-war was thrown up into the wind as she approached, and a voice shouted in French, “What ship is that, and where from?”

“He wants to know your name and where from,” Edgar translated, and the captain shouted back, “the Annetta, bound from Alexandria to Naples.”

“Send a boat alongside with your captain,” was the order from the Tigre.

“Shall I go with you, captain, to translate,” Edgar volunteered.

The captain gladly assented, and the boat was at once lowered, and they were rowed to the Tigre. On ascending the deck they were taken to the captain. The latter glanced at Edgar and said, “Why, surely you are English?”

“I am, sir. My father was a merchant at Alexandria. I was away at the time the French arrived, and was left behind, and have been with a party of Arabs ever since.”

“Can you speak Arabic?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any other languages?”

“French and Italian, sir. It was for that reason that I came on board with the captain to interpret for him.”

“Where are you going now?”

“I was going to Naples first, in order to take a passage home from there.”

“Ah! What have they got on board?”

“Little enough, sir. They came across with spirits and wine and other cargo. The man is a small trader and part owner of the ship.”

“Tell him if he carries stores again to Alexandria his ship will be seized as a prize by the first ship-of-war that comes across her. By carrying them to Alexandria he is aiding the French. Now about yourself. What are you going home for?”

“To join my father in England.”

“What are you going to do there?”

“I believe that I shall go into an office, sir, till my father can return to Egypt again.”

“You speak these three languages well.”

“Yes, sir; well enough to pass as a native.”

“Have you been doing any fighting ashore?”

“Not much fighting, sir,—the Arabs could not stand against the French; but I have seen a good deal. I saw the battle of the Pyramids, the sea fight in Aboukir Bay, and the street fighting in Cairo.”

“Well, with your knowledge of languages you ought to be able to do better than go into a London office. You might be very useful to me, and if you like to go with me to Constantinople, where I am bound, I will give you a midshipman’s rating. You may have an opportunity of seeing some more service, and when this affair is over you could, of course, leave the navy if you thought fit and rejoin your father. What do you say? I will give you five minutes to think it over.”

It required less time than this for Edgar to take his resolution. He had no fancy whatever for work in a London office, and the prospect of serving on board ship, the chance of seeing Constantinople and other places, and possibly of active service against the French, was vastly more pleasant. Before the end of that time he went up to the captain, touched his hat, and said that he thankfully accepted his offer.

“Very well, then, that is settled,” the officer said kindly. “I will give you ten minutes to row back to the brig and return with your clothes.”

In ten minutes Edgar was on board again, having explained to the astonished captain that he was going as interpreter on board the British ship. As soon as he stepped on deck again orders were shouted, the sails trimmed, and the Tigre proceeded on her way. An officer came up to Edgar.

“What is your name, sir?”

“Edgar Blagrove, sir.”

“I remember the name,” the officer said. “I put into Alexandria some ten months ago to get some repairs done, and I remember that your father undertook them.” He beckoned to a lad of about the same age as Edgar. “Mr. Wilkinson,” he said, “you may take this young gentleman, Mr. Blagrove, down to the cockpit and introduce him to your messmates. He is entered on board the ship as a midshipman by Sir Sidney Smith’s orders.”

The midshipman took him below without a word. There were two other lads in the cabin.

“Allow me,” Edgar’s guide said with a theatrical flourish of the hand, “to introduce to you Mr. Blagrove, a fellow midshipman and messmate.”

“Really, Wilkinson, one never knows whether you are in earnest or playing the fool,” growled one of the others, who was a master’s mate some nineteen years old.

“On the present occasion I am in earnest, Mr. Condor,” Wilkinson replied.

“Where did he spring from?”

“He has just come on board from that little brig that we made lie to just now.”

“I come from Alexandria,” Edgar said quietly.

“From Alexandria!” Condor repeated in surprise, for he had not been on deck when the Italian captain had answered the hail.

“I was accidentally left behind when most of the English inhabitants left when the French ships came in sight.”

“What did they do to you? Have you been in prison ever since?”

“Fortunately they never laid hands on me. A sheik of one of the Arab tribes was a friend of mine, and I have been staying with him ever since.”

“How did you make them understand what you wanted?”

“I can talk Arabic as well as I can English,” Edgar replied.

“Still you must have felt it awfully slow stopping at an Arab camp all this time.”

“It has not been by any means slow. The tribe harassed the French on their march. We were present at the battle of the Pyramids, though we did not take any active part in it; for when the Mamelukes were defeated the Arabs knew that alone they had no chance of success. Then we came down to the place where they generally encamp, some twelve miles from Alexandria, and I had the good luck to see Nelson’s fleet destroy the French in Aboukir Bay.”

“That was luck!” Wilkinson said warmly. “I would have given anything to have been in that fight.”

“You are taking late to the sea,” the midshipman who had not yet spoken remarked.

“I have no intention of taking to the sea for good,” Edgar replied. “My father has one of the largest businesses in Alexandria, and as soon as the French leave Egypt I shall go back there. Sir Sidney Smith asked me to come, as I talk French and Italian as well as Arabic, and he thought that I should be useful to him as an interpreter, and said he would rate me as a midshipman. I was very glad to accept, as I should have nothing particular to do if I had gone home, and I thought that it would be far more pleasant to have two or three years of active service.”

“Have you been in England?” Wilkinson asked.

“Yes, I was there nearly three years, and only returned a few months before the French landed.”

“Well, it seems a rum start,” Condor said, “but I suppose Sir Sidney knows what he is doing.”

“I should imagine he did,” Edgar said quietly. “Possibly, if you like to question him he will be good enough to explain the matter to your satisfaction.”

“Look here, youngster!” Condor growled. “You have come in here as a midshipman, and let me tell you that whether a fellow is an interpreter or not we don’t allow cheek here.”

“But you allow rudeness, eh?” Edgar said quietly. “I am new to ship’s manners, but at school, anyhow, a fellow was just as likely to get thrashed for rudeness as he was for cheek.”

“Come, Condor,” Wilkinson said, as the master’s mate sprang to his feet, “you won’t do yourself any good by quarrelling with a fellow who has just come on board. He has certainly said nothing offensive to you. Moreover, it is quite possible that the captain may want to ask him questions about Egypt, and if he had any marks on the face you may be pretty sure you would get such a wigging that you would never want another, and possibly you might never have a chance of getting one.”

“Very well,” Condor said, sitting down again, “you are safe for a day or two; but mind, the first time I get an opportunity I will give you the soundest thrashing that you ever had.”

“I am sorry that it must be postponed,” Edgar said quietly, “but I daresay it will keep.”

“Come on deck, Blagrove,” Wilkinson said, putting his arm into that of Edgar. “He is an ill-tempered brute,” he went on as soon as they had left the cockpit. “He only passed his examination a week before we sailed, and we all heartily wish that he had failed. He is a regular bully, and as none of us are older than I am he has pretty well his own way, for he is a strong chap, and, as I heard from a fellow who sailed with him, knows how to use his fists, and none of us would have any chance with him. It is a great nuisance, for we should all be very pleasant together if it were not for him. However, I don’t expect he will dare touch you, for the captain may, at any time, want you to put questions to craft he may overhaul, and Condor would certainly get it hot if he found out that he had been interfering with you.”

Edgar smiled.

“I can assure you that I do not want the captain’s assistance in the matter. Boxing is a branch of my education which has not been neglected, and I fancy that Mr. Condor will not find that he has it all his own way.”

“Well, if you could lick him we should all regard you as a benefactor, Blagrove; but I am afraid you will find him a great deal too strong and heavy for you.”

“Well, we shall see, as he says, on the first opportunity. I don’t think that I am at all a quarrelsome chap, but I am certainly not going to put up with being bullied by a fellow like that.”

At this moment the boatswain came up. “Mr. Blagrove,” he said, “I have the first lieutenant’s orders to take you to the tailor to be measured for your uniform—an undress suit, he said. The tailor can manage that, but you will have to get the rest of your kit later on.”

“You will find me on deck, Blagrove,” Wilkinson said, as Edgar followed the boatswain, who led the way to the lower deck, where, by the light of a couple of lanterns, two or three tailors were at work.

“Hall, the first lieutenant’s orders are that you are to measure this young gentleman for a midshipman’s undress uniform, and you are to put everything else by and push it forward.”

“Very well,” the man replied. “It makes no odds to me what I does first. I doubt whether the first lieutenant will be pleased to-morrow; he tore his trousers yesterday, and sent them down to me to be mended.”

“Well, one of your hands can finish that,” the boatswain said. “Anyhow, you have got to do this suit, or you will hear of it.”

Edgar was measured for his uniform by the head tailor, who was a cockney who had been carried off by the press-gang. It was soon found that he was of no use as a sailor, but as he was by trade a tailor he was given a rating below, and it was not long before he gave such satisfaction that he was made chief of the little party employed on that work.

Returning on deck Edgar rejoined Wilkinson, and was introduced by him to several other midshipmen, who were all predisposed to like him, as Wilkinson had informed them of his little encounter with Condor, and of his readiness to fight the bully of the mess. This was considered, however, a sign of pluck rather than wisdom, and one of them expressed the general sentiment when he said, “You see he has been brought up among these Egyptian chaps, who have no idea whatever of fighting. He may have licked some of them easily, and that may have made him think he can fight; he will find the difference when he stands up against a fellow like Condor.”

The first lieutenant presently sent for Edgar to come to the quarter-deck.

“I quite understand, Mr. Blagrove, that although you are given a midshipman’s rating, it is really as an interpreter that Sir Sidney Smith has engaged you. Would you wish to perform midshipman’s duties also? I have asked him what are his wishes in the matter, and he left it entirely with you, saying that the very nominal pay of a midshipman was really no remuneration for the services of a gentleman capable of interpreting in three or four languages, but that as the rules of the service made no provision for the engagement of an interpreter, except under special circumstances, and as you said that you did not think it likely you should make the sea your profession, you might not care to undertake midshipman’s duties in addition to those of interpreter.”

“Thank you, sir; but I should certainly wish to learn my duties as midshipman, and to take my share in all work. My duties as interpreter must be generally very light, and I should find the time hang heavily on my hands if I had nothing else to do. I hope, therefore, sir, that you will put me to work, and have me taught my duty just as if I had joined in the regular way.”

“Very well, Mr. Blagrove, I think that you are right. I will put you in the starboard watch. I am sure that Mr. Bonnor, the third lieutenant, will be glad to keep a special eye on you. Do you understand anything about handling a boat?”

“Yes, sir. I have been accustomed to sailing, rowing, and steering as long as I can remember.”

“That is something gained at any rate. Do you know the names of the various ropes and sheets?”

“I do in a vessel of ordinary size, sir. I was so often on board craft that were in my father’s hands for repair that I learned a good deal about them, and at any rate can trust myself to go aloft.”

“Well, Mr. Wilkinson is in your watch, and as I put you in his charge to start with, I will tell him to act as your instructor in these matters. Please ask him to step here.

“Mr. Wilkinson,” he went on, as the midshipman came up, “I shall be obliged if you will do what you can to assist Mr. Blagrove in learning his duties. He has been knocking about among boats and merchant craft since his childhood, and already knows a good deal about them; but naturally there is much to learn in a ship like this. You will, of course, keep your watches as usual at night, but I shall request Mr. Bonnor to release you from all other duties for the present, in order that you may assist Mr. Blagrove in learning the names and uses of all the ropes, and the ordinary routine of his duty. He will, of course, attend the master’s class in navigation. There will be no occasion for him to go through the whole routine of a freshly-joined lad in other respects; but he must learn cutlass and musketry drill from the master-at-arms, and to splice and make ordinary knots from the boatswain’s mate. Thank you, that will do for the present.”

Lieutenant Bonnor came up to Wilkinson a few minutes later, and told him that he was to consider himself relieved from all general duties at present.

“I hope you won’t find this a nuisance, Wilkinson,” Edgar said.

“Not at all,” the other laughed; “quite the contrary. It gets one off of all sorts of disagreeable routine work, and as you know something about it to begin with, I have no doubt that you will soon pick up your work. A lot of the things that one has to learn when one first joins are not of much use afterwards, and may not have to be done once a year. However, I can lend you books, and if you really want to pick up all the words of command you can study them when you have nothing else to do; and I can tell you there are plenty of times when one is rather glad to have something to amuse one; when one is running with a light wind aft, like this, for instance, we may go on for days without having to touch a sail. Well, we will begin at once. We won’t go aloft till you have got your togs; a fellow going aloft in landsmen’s clothes always looks rather a duffer. Now, let us see what you know about things.”

As the names of the halliards, sheets, and tacks are the same in any square-rigged vessel, Edgar answered all questions readily, and it was only the precise position assigned to each on deck that he had to learn, so that, even on the darkest night, he could at once lay hands on them without hesitation; and in the course of a couple of days he knew these as well as his instructor. On the third morning he put on his midshipman’s clothes for the first time.

“You are a great deal stronger fellow than I should have taken you for,” Wilkinson said, as he watched him dressing. “You have a tremendous lot of muscle on the shoulders and arms, and on the back too.”

“I took a lot of exercise when I was at school in England,” Edgar replied, “and I have been accustomed to riding ever since I was a boy, and for the last five months have almost lived in the saddle. I have done a good deal of rowing too, for I have had the use of a boat as long as I can remember. Of course, I have done a lot of bathing and swimming—you see, the water is so warm that one can stay in it for a long time, and one can bathe all the year round. I cannot even remember being taught to swim, I suppose it came naturally to me. I am sure that my father would never have let me go out in boats as I used to do if he had not known that I was as much at home in the water as out of it.”

“Now we will go aloft,” Wilkinson said.

Edgar ran up almost as quickly as his companion. He had not only been accustomed to ships in the port of Alexandria, but on the voyage to England and back he had spent much of his time aloft, the captains being friends of his father, and allowing him to do as he liked, as soon as they saw that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

“This is not the first time that you have been aloft, sir,” one of the top-men said, as he followed Wilkinson’s example, instead of going up through the lubber’s hole.

“It is the first time that I have ever gone up the mast of a man-of-war,” Edgar replied; “but everything is so big and solid here, that it seems easy after being accustomed to smaller craft. It is a wonderful spread of sail, Wilkinson, after having been on board nothing bigger than a brig. I used to help reef the sails on my way back from England; but these tremendous sails seem altogether too big to handle.”

“So they would be without plenty of hands, but you see we have a great many more men in proportion here than there are on board a merchant craft. Will you go up higher?”

“Certainly.” And they went up until nothing but the bare pole, with the pennant floating from its summit, rose above them. “You don’t feel giddy at all, Blagrove?”

“Not a bit. If she were rolling heavily perhaps I might be, but she is going on so steadily that I don’t feel it at all.”

“Then I will begin by giving you a lesson as to what your duties would be if the order were given to send down the upper spars and yards. It is a pleasure teaching a fellow who is so anxious to learn as you are, and who knows enough to understand what you say.”

For two hours he sat there explaining to Edgar exactly where his position would be during this operation, and the orders that he would have to give.

“When we get down below,” he said, when he had finished, “I will give you all the orders, and you can jot them down, and learn them by heart. The great point, you see, is to fire them off exactly at the right moment. A little too soon or a little too late makes all the difference. It is generally a race between the top-men of the different masts, and there is nothing that the men think more of than smartness in getting down all the upper gear. When you have got all the words of command by heart perfectly, you shall come with me the first time the order is given to send down the spars and yards, so as to see exactly where the orders come in. It is a thing that we very often practise. In fact, as a rule, it is done every evening when we are cruising, or in harbour, or at Spithead, or that sort of thing. When it is a race between the different ships of a squadron, it is pretty bad for the top-men who are the last to get their spars down. But, you see, as we are on a passage I don’t suppose we shall send down spars till we get to Constantinople.”

“What are we going there for?”

“As far as I can understand, the captain is going on a sort of diplomatic mission. His brother is our ambassador there, and he is appointed to act with him in some sort of diplomatic way, I suppose, to arrange what troops the Sultan is going to send against the French, and what we are to do to help him, and what subvention is to be paid him, and all that sort of thing. I expect you will be pretty busy while we are there. Do you understand Turkish?”

“Yes, it is very like Arabic. All the officials and upper classes in Egypt are Turks, and one hears more Turkish than Arabic, except among the Bedouin tribes.”

While they were talking they were leisurely descending the shrouds side by side. As soon as they gained the deck, the captain’s steward came up to Edgar, and said that Sir Sidney Smith would be glad to see him and Mr. Wilkinson to dinner that evening. The captain had abstained from inviting him until he should have got his uniform, thinking that he would find it uncomfortable sitting down in civilian dress. The fact that he was going to dine late in no way interfered with Edgar’s enjoyment of his mid-day meal. During the two days he had been on board, he had got on friendly terms with all his messmates excepting Condor, who studiously abstained from noticing him in any way. The younger midshipmen he bullied unmercifully, and had a general dictatorial way with the others that made Edgar frequently long for the opportunity of giving him a lesson.

He had no doubt that Condor had determined to postpone the occasion until they had left the Pireus, at which point they were to call, as his service might be required there to interpret. Once away from the island, he would not be likely to be called upon to translate until they arrived at Constantinople.

It was a pleasant dinner in Sir Sidney Smith’s cabin. There were present the first and third lieutenants, the captain of the marines, the doctor, Wilkinson, and Edgar. Sir Sidney Smith was a delightful host; he possessed a remarkable charm of manner, was most thoughtful and kind to all his subordinates, and, though strict in all matters of discipline, treated his officers as gentlemen and on terms of equality in his own cabin. He had already accomplished many dashing exploits in the Baltic and elsewhere, and was beloved both by the sailors and officers. It was a time when life in the navy was very rough, when the lash was unsparingly used for the smallest offences, and when too many ships were made floating hells by the tyranny of their commanders.

“I should have asked you to dinner on the day that you came on board, Mr. Blagrove,” Sir Sidney said kindly, as the two midshipmen entered, “but I thought that you might prefer my not doing so until you got your uniform. It has been some privation for myself, for I am anxious to hear from you some details as to what has been doing in Egypt, of which, of course, we know next to nothing at home.”

During dinner no questions were asked, but after the cloth had been removed and the decanters were placed upon the table, he said:

“Now, Mr. Blagrove, we shall be glad if you will give us details of how you came to be left behind, of your personal adventures, and what you yourself witnessed, and your opinion of the situation in Egypt. This is desirable, not only as a matter of general information, but because it will be really useful to me to understand the situation fully, for the purposes of my mission.”

Edgar began his story, but was interrupted almost at the outset by Sir Sidney asking him how he came to be so intimate with these Bedouins. He was therefore obliged to relate how he had rescued the sheik’s son from an attack by two of the lowest class of Europeans in Alexandria. Edgar told the story modestly, making as little as possible of his share in it.

“And were these fellows armed, Mr. Blagrove?”

“They had their knives, but they had not time to use them. These fellows have no idea of boxing, and a straight hit is a mystery to them. The thing was all over in less than a minute.”

“Then, I suppose, you can box?” Sir Sidney said, with a smile.

“I was taught it in England, sir. My father thought that it would be useful, for the population of Alexandria is a rough one.”

Sir Sidney said no more, and Edgar told his story without further interruption, and then answered many questions as to the proceedings of the French, the rising in Cairo—of which Sir Sidney now heard for the first time, and the prospect of a general insurrection.

“I don’t think that there is much chance of that, sir. The defeat of the Mamelukes led them to believe that the French were invincible. The destruction of their fleet showed that this was not the case, and led to the rising at Cairo, but their easy defeat there, and the terrible slaughter inflicted upon them, will certainly cow them for a long time, and as long as the whole French army remains there, I don’t think there will be much further trouble, but if a portion were to march away, no doubt they might muster up courage to attack those that remained. Mourad Bey, with a considerable force of Mamelukes, still keeps the field, and the Arab tribes would certainly join him if they saw a chance of defeating the invaders.”

“And the two men you had that trouble with, have you ever come across them again, Mr. Blagrove?” the first lieutenant asked.

“We came across them in Cairo, sir,” Edgar replied reluctantly. “I was with my friend, the sheik’s son. They did not recognize me, being in my Arab dress, but they knew him at once and pounced upon him, and were dragging him into a house. Of course, I took his part and there was a fight.”

“And what was the result, Mr. Blagrove?”

“The result was that they were both killed,” Edgar said quietly. “They attacked us with knives, and we had to use ours. My friend killed one of them and I killed the other. It was unfortunate, but it was their lives or ours, and if we hadn’t done it then, the thing would have happened again, and next time we might have been stabbed before we had a chance of defending ourselves.”

“I can quite understand that, Mr. Blagrove,” Sir Sidney said kindly, while the others smiled at the matter-of-fact way in which Edgar related what must have been a very dangerous business.

“I see that, whatever else we may have to teach you, it will not be how to use your weapons. Indeed, it seems to me that you are getting on very fast. I saw you go up the shrouds to-day, and I can see that you will very soon be as much at home there as any of my midshipmen. And now, gentlemen, we have had rather a long sitting, for it is nearly ten o’clock; but I am sure that you must have been as interested as I have been myself, in the information Mr. Blagrove has been good enough to give us.”

“By Jove, Blagrove,” Wilkinson said when they had left the cabin, “if you had told me all this before I should not have felt so doubtful about your fight with Condor. So you can really use your fists well?”

“I learnt for over two years from some of the best light-weights in London,” Edgar replied, “and unless he has had wonderfully good teachers I ought to have no trouble about the matter.”

Two days later the Tigre left the Pireus. To Sir Sidney Smith’s disappointment, he had not found Lord Nelson there, as he had expected to do, and he was the more disappointed inasmuch as he had missed Lord St. Vincent, who was commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean, at Gibraltar.

CHAPTER X

A SEA-FIGHT

Finding that the last news from Lord Nelson was that he was sailing to join the fleet blockading Toulon, Sir Sidney Smith remained but a couple of days at the Pireus, and then continued his voyage to Constantinople. They had had no intercourse with any of the natives, and Edgar’s services had consequently not been called into requisition.

In the afternoon Condor came up to Edgar, who was talking with some of the other midshipmen, and said:

“Now, Mr. Blagrove, if you really meant what you said, I think this is a good opportunity to settle our affair. Your valuable services are not likely to be required for a few days, and if you don’t wish to back out you had better come with me below.”

“With pleasure,” Edgar said quietly. “I have had some difficulty in waiting, and have several times been on the verge of stopping your pleasant habit of bullying youngsters.”

“Well, you need not say any more,” Condor said savagely; “let us see what you can do.”

Wilkinson and two or three others who were off duty went down at once with Edgar, and as the news spread among the others, every midshipman who could possibly get away unnoticed, stole off also, and joined them on the lower deck. Half a dozen lanterns were lighted and hung up from the beams. A few of the sailors, seeing so many midshipmen going down there, guessed that there was a fight coming off, and descending the hatchway forward, stole noiselessly aft to watch it.

Wilkinson had said nothing to the others of what he had heard in the cabin. The general belief was that although Edgar, no doubt, would make a plucky fight of it, he had no chance whatever with an opponent nearly three years his senior, two or three stone heavier, and with a reputation for being able to use his fists well.

The opponents stripped to the waist and faced each other. Wilkinson acted as Edgar’s second; none of the older ones would act for Condor, but a lad of fifteen, who dared not refuse his request, did so.

The combat is best described in the language in which one of the tars who witnessed it related it to his comrades.

“I never seed such a thing in all my born days,” he said. “It did not look a fair thing, for it was like a man against a boy. Condor is about three inches taller than the young ’un, and much more strongly built. The young ’un stripped well, and looked a wonderfully wiry young chap; there was a determined look about his face, and I guessed that he was game to the backbone; but his chance did not seem worth speaking of. Well, they stood up. The young one moved about quick on his pins for a moment, and then, it was so quick that you could scarce see how it was done, he gave a sort of bound, and hit out with his right, and the next moment Condor was on his back.

“I never saw such a clean, knock-down blow in all my life. The mids, they all cheered, and it was plain enough to see which way their ’pinions went. Condor was not down a moment; up he jumped again, looking as savage as a bull, but somewhat dazed. He meant mischief this time, and went with a rush at the young ’un; but lor, the latter just jumped out of his way, and hit him such a smack in the eye that it staggered him altogether. But he did not lose his legs this time, and made another rush. It was the same thing over and over again. The young ’un did just what he liked with him, and after five minutes he knocked him silly, his eyes were beginning to close, he was just bleeding like a pig at the nose; but it was a cut on the mouth that finished him, and knocked him out of time altogether, and the young ’un had never been as much as touched once.

“You should have heard how the middies cheered. As to the young ’un, he seemed to take it as a matter of course, and said, ‘There is nothing in it. Condor fought pluckily enough, but he knows next to nothing of boxing, while, though I say it myself, I am a first-rate boxer. I ought to be, having been taught by the best masters in London for a couple of years.’

“They had to chuck some water on Condor’s face to get him round, for the force with which he struck the deck stunned him. When he was helped to his feet, the young ’un went up to him and held out his hand. ‘I hope there will be no more ill-feeling between us, Condor,’ he said. ‘You have made a bad mistake, and have had to pay for it. Only I say this, that as long as I am on board there shall be no more bullying in the cockpit. We are all gentlemen, I hope. As long as we are on duty, of course, we obey the orders of our superiors, and, as our senior officer, we should all obey you; but when off duty we are equals. And if anyone attempts to bully anyone else, he has got me to reckon with.

“‘There is no reason why we should not have a pleasant time when we are below, and I will do my best to see that we do have it. You are the senior of the mess, and as such have to keep order; but beyond that you have no right to interfere. Now let us shake hands and say no more about it.’

“Condor shook hands without saying a word, and then slipped away. I have seen many a fight since I first took to the sea, but never such a fight as this before. It were just a massacre of the innercents, and I don’t think a fellow was ever more thoroughly sucked in than Master Condor when he undertook the job.”

Condor had to go on the sick-list half an hour after the fight was over. His eyes were almost closed, his face was enormously swollen, and he had lost three teeth—the effect of the blow that had brought the conflict to a close.

“Did you know how it was going to be, Wilkinson?” one of the other seniors said as they went up on the deck again.

“I guessed pretty well, from what Blagrove was telling Sir Sidney when he dined with him, that Condor would meet his match, but I did not think that it was going to be a hollow thing like that.”

“What do you mean, sir, by skulking below?” the second lieutenant angrily asked one of the midshipmen of his watch as he returned on deck.

“I just slipped below for a few minutes, sir,” the lad said.

“Well, you had better be careful, or you will find yourself at the mast-head,” the lieutenant said sharply.

“I fancy there has been a fight,” the first lieutenant said as Mr. Knight passed him, grumbling to himself. “I noticed just now that there were only two midshipmen on deck. Do you see, they are coming up the hatchway, one by one, looking as innocent as a cat that has been at the cream-jug. They seem to be pretty nearly all here now, but I don’t see any signs in any of their faces that they have been in trouble.

“Well, well, midshipmen are only boys, and boys will quarrel. I expect we both had our share of it before we got our epaulettes.”

The other laughed. “I suppose so,” he said; “and after all it does them no harm, and it is much better, if two boys do quarrel, that they should fight it out and have done with it, instead of always wrangling.”

“I thought it might have been Blagrove,” the first lieutenant said. “A new hand generally has a fight before he has been on board a fortnight. After that he finds his level. However, it is not him, for there he is, looking as cool as a cucumber. It must have been some sort of meeting to discuss some fancied grievance. I daresay we shall hear something about it sooner or later.”

Half an hour afterwards the doctor came on deck. There was a smile on his face as he went up to the first lieutenant.

“One of your officers is on the sick list, Mr. Canes.”

“What is the matter with him?”

“I should say that it would come under the head of contusions.”

The lieutenant laughed.

“Bad contusions?”

“Rather more serious than is usual in these cases. Face greatly swelled, eyes closed, very great enlargement of the nose, lips puffed and badly cut, three front teeth missing.”

“By Jove, that is severe punishment! Who is it?”

“Master’s mate Condor.”

“Why, who has he been fighting with?”

The doctor laughed. “I could hardly believe it when I heard. I waylaid young Jocelyn, who was executing a war-dance of delight, and questioned him. It is your last acquisition, Blagrove.”

“Impossible, Doctor! There is the lad himself, without the slightest sign of having been engaged in a fight. I have been looking at them all rather closely, for they nearly all disappeared about half an hour ago, and one knows what that generally means. Mr. Knight was very angry about it, so when they came back again I glanced at them; and as none of them were marked in any way, or showed any signs of their having been engaged in a bout of fisticuffs, I came to the conclusion that there had been no fight. And you mean to say that Blagrove punished Condor in that fashion without receiving a mark himself? Condor is a powerful fellow, and must be nearly three years older than the lad. It seems well-nigh impossible!”

“I was astonished myself, but, if you remember, he told us the other evening at the captain’s table that he had earned the good-will of those Arabs by rescuing the sheik’s son from an attack by two European ruffians. He certainly told it in a very modest tone; but that a lad could thrash two men armed with knives seemed to me to border on romancing. Young Jocelyn said that the fight did not last more than five minutes, and that Blagrove did not receive a scratch. His delight was excessive, and I fancy Condor is rather a bully. You see there is nobody else in the mess anywhere near his weight and age, and he took advantage of it accordingly. The boy said that after it was over and they shook hands, Blagrove told Condor that there should be no bullying in the mess in future.

“I asked what the affair was about. Jocelyn did not know, but said that he heard that something had happened when Blagrove first came on board, and that they all knew that there was going to be a fight, but he thinks that it was put off until they left the Pireus for some reason or other.”

“That young fellow must be a marvellously good boxer to be able to punish a fellow so superior in age and weight without showing a mark himself. The lesson is certainly likely to do Condor good. I have heard from Mr. Bonnor, who was in the same ship with him on his last commission, that the fellow had a bad name as a bully, but that, unlike most fellows of that sort, he had pluck, and could fight, which makes Blagrove’s victory all the more surprising. However, of course we shall take no notice of it. I have merely your official report that Mr. Condor is on the sick-list suffering from severe contusions. I suppose it will be some days before he can show up?”

“I should say that it will be a week before he is fit to come on deck. As to the loss of his teeth, it will be a serious disfigurement until he gets home again and can be fitted with some fresh ones. Well, at any rate this will give Blagrove a good standing among the others. It is always awkward for a lad who joins a good bit later than usual.”

It was not only among the midshipmen that the defeat of Condor established Edgar as the most popular member of the mess. During the voyage out, Condor had already rendered himself obnoxious to the men by the roughness of his tone when speaking to them, and by his domineering manner whenever the officer of the watch was engaged elsewhere, and the report of the manner in which he had been punished excited great delight among them, and rendered Edgar a most popular personage. They had noticed his behaviour the first time that he had gone aloft, and had agreed that the new middy was a good sort and no greenhorn.

“He will make a first-rate officer,” one old tar said. “You mark my words if he don’t. New hand as he is, you will see that he will show up well on the first opportunity.”

The fight, too, raised rather than lowered Condor in their opinion. The men who had seen it all agreed that, although he had not a shadow of chance from the first, he had fought with unflinching pluck, and struggled on most gamely until knocked out of time. Consequently, when he returned to duty he was treated with the same respect as before, and with none of the covert grins that he had expected to notice among them.

The young fellow was not a fool, and while in the sickbay had thought matters over a good deal. It was of course mortifying to have been thrashed by an antagonist he despised, but he was conscious that he had brought the punishment upon himself. Hitherto he had not, since he first joined the service, met with his match among those of his own age and standing, and had come to think himself an exceptional sort of fellow; but the discovery that he was but a child in the hands of a really good boxer, while it humiliated him, was extremely useful. A lesson of this kind is sure to have an effect, good or bad. Among some it sours the temper, produces an active hatred of the person who gave it, and renders a lad savage and morose. On the other hand, among more generous natures it has an opposite effect. Thinking matters over, a lad will feel that he has been going in the wrong direction, that he has been puffed up with an exaggerated idea of his own powers, and he will determine to get into a better groove, and to break himself of his faults.

Condor belonged to the latter class. As he lay in bed he saw clearly that he had made a great mistake, that his successes had been won simply because those he licked were less skilled or strong than himself, and that, in point of fact, instead of being, as he believed, a good boxer, he knew next to nothing about it.

Edgar had, after the first day, gone in regularly to have a chat with him. He had been somewhat doubtful as to how his advances would be received, but had determined to do his best to become friends with Condor, whom he felt, rather remorsefully, he had punished terribly severely.

“I hope, Condor,” he said the first time he entered, “that you will believe that I have come in because I am really sorry that you have been hurt so much, and not from any idea of triumphing over you. It was only natural that I should have got the best of it. I knew beforehand that I was sure to do so. I learned boxing for over two years from some of the best light-weight fighters in London. I worked very hard, and at the end of that time, except that I was of course their inferior in strength, I could hold my own very fairly with them. That was more than a year ago, and since then I have gained a lot in height, in length of reach, and in strength, so you really need not feel mortified that you were so easily beaten, because I consider that if you had been twice as strong as you are, and four or five years older, it would have come to the same thing. A man who can box only in what you may call a rough-and-ready way has practically no chance whatever with a really scientific pugilist, which I may say I am. I hope you bear me no malice, and that we shall be friends in future.”

“I hope so too, Blagrove. I feel that I deserve what I have got, and it will be a lesson that I shall not forget. You have taken me down a great many pegs in my own estimation, and I shall try and make a fresh start when I am about again.”

“I am very glad to hear it,” Edgar said warmly. “I am sure it must be very much more pleasant to be liked by everyone than to be disliked; and one is just as easy as the other.”

“I don’t know that I ever thought of it before,” Condor said, “but I suppose it must be. I will try the experiment when I get up. I shall feel very small among the others.”

“I don’t see why you should. You did all that you could, and no one could have done better who had not been taught as I have, and I am sure that no one will think the least degree the worse of you because you had no chance with me. Why, I thrashed a couple of ruffians in Alexandria, armed with knives, in a quarter of the time that it took me to beat you.”

“At any rate I shall know better in future,” Condor said, with a poor attempt to smile with his swollen lips. “I have learned not to judge from appearances. Who would have thought that a fellow brought up in Egypt would have been able to fight like a professional pugilist. You said that you had been a couple of years at school in England, but that didn’t go for much. We have all been at school in England, and yet not many of us know much of boxing. How was it that you came to learn?”

“Well, you see that there is a very rough population in Alexandria—Greek, Maltese, and Italian, in fact the scum of the Mediterranean—and my father, who is a very sensible man, thought that the knowledge of how to use my fists well might be of much greater value to me than anything else I could learn in England, so he asked my uncle, with whom I lived when I was at school, to get me the best masters in boxing that he could find. I got to be very fond of it, and worked very hard. I had three lessons a week all the time I was at school, and the last year changed my master three times, and so got all their favourite hits. Of course I used to get knocked about, for some boxers can’t help hitting hard, and to the end I used to get punished pretty heavily, because though I might hit them as often as they hit me, they were able to hit much harder than I was, but I fancy now that they would find it pretty hard work to knock me out of time. My father used to say that being really a good boxer kept a man or a boy out of trouble. A man who knows that he can fight well can afford to be good-tempered and put up with things that another man wouldn’t, and if he is driven to use his fists gets off without being knocked about; and besides, as soon as it is known that he can fight, others don’t care about quarrelling with him. I know that it was so with me. I had a fight or two at first, but I very quickly improved, and after that I never had a quarrel for the rest of the nearly three years I was at school.”

“One thing is certain, Blagrove, you are not likely to have another quarrel as long as you remain on board the Tigre. You will come and see me again, won’t you?”

“Certainly I will. I can see that it hurts you to talk now, but you will soon get over that, and then we can have some good chats.”

During the voyage up to the Dardanelles, the Tigre encountered changeable weather; the sails had often to be shifted. When he was on watch, Edgar always went aloft with his friend Wilkinson and took his place beside him, listened to the orders that he gave, and watched him at work. In a few days he was able to act independently and to do his duty regularly, and to aid in tying down a reef when a sudden squall came on.

They caught sight of many islands as they passed through the Aegean. Edgar was disappointed with the Dardanelles, but delighted with his first view of Constantinople. It was on the day that they cast anchor that Condor for the first time put in an appearance at mess. His face had resumed its normal appearance, save that there were greenish-yellow patches under the eyes. Wilkinson, who was by a week or two the senior midshipman, and had occupied the president’s chair with reluctance, at once left it. They had not expected him until the next day, or he would not have taken it. Edgar had that morning particularly asked the others as a personal favour to give Condor a hearty welcome on his return.

“I think you will find him a much more pleasant fellow than he was before,” he said. “At any rate he has been punished heavily, and I think that you ought to welcome him heartily.”

Wilkinson and two or three of the older midshipmen had gone in several times to see Condor, and had been pleased at the friendly way in which he had spoken of Blagrove. There had, however, been little talk between them, for Condor had not seemed disposed for conversation. Condor walked to his accustomed seat at the head of the table.

“I hope things will go on better than they have done,” he said gruffly. “All I can say is, it sha’n’t be my fault if they don’t;” and without more words he proceeded to cut up the salt meat placed in front of him. For a short time the conversation was constrained, and it was evident that those who spoke were talking for the sake of talking; but this soon wore off, and by the end of the meal even the youngest mids were talking and laughing with a feeling that somehow a change had come over the place. A quarter of an hour after the meal had ended, a boat was lowered.

“Mr. Wilkinson, you will take charge,” the first officer said. “Mr. Blagrove, you will accompany the captain on shore.”

A few minutes later they reached the landing-place. A number of men at once crowded round to proffer their services, and the captain said:

“Choose one of them for a guide, Mr. Blagrove. Ask him to take us to our embassy.”

Edgar at once chose a quiet-looking Turk, and, to the latter’s surprise, addressed him in his own language. The others fell back disappointed, and the guide soon conducted them to the embassy.

“I shall not want you here, Blagrove. I shall be engaged for at least a couple of hours. You can either stroll about and have a look round or go back to the boat as you please. It is now two o’clock; call again here for me at four.”

Cairo had prepared Edgar for Constantinople, and indeed he thought the former city more picturesque in the variety of costume than the latter. The views from the hill of Pera, whether looking up the Golden Horn, across it at Stamboul, over to Scutari and the shores of the Sea of Marmora, or up the Bosphorus, were beautiful beyond anything that he had ever seen, and leaving the exploration of the city for another day, he sat down under the shade of some cypress trees close to a Turkish cemetery and entered into a conversation with the guardian of the tombs, who pointed out the various mosques and places of interest to him. At the end of two hours he repaired to the embassy. Presently a dragoman came down and asked him if his name was Blagrove, and on his replying in the affirmative, said that Sir Sidney Smith had ordered him to say that he could return in the boat to the ship, for that he would dine ashore, and the boat was to be at the wharf at ten o’clock.

Sir Sidney Smith remained two months at Constantinople. His duty, in conjunction with his brother, Mr. Seymour Smith, was to engage the Sultan in an active alliance with England, and to concert, as a naval officer, the best plan to be pursued to render that alliance effective. The former portion of the commission had already been carried almost to a successful termination by his brother, and the treaty was signed on the first week of January, 1799. The details of the latter were arrived at in the course of several meetings between Sir Sidney Smith and the Turkish pasha and admiral. To these latter meetings Edgar always accompanied his chief as interpreter, Sir Sidney preferring his services to those of the dragoman of the embassy, as he was better able to understand and explain the naval points discussed.

The Porte, indeed, was able to do but little towards aiding in the naval operations. Two bomb ships and seventeen gun-boats were all the vessels that they were able to produce, but it was some time before they would agree to place these entirely under Sir Sidney Smith’s command. Ahmed Pasha, or, as he was generally called, Djezzar Pasha—Djezzar meaning the butcher, from the cruel and brutal nature of the man—the Governor of Syria, was in Constantinople at the time, and was present at these meetings. He was aware that Napoleon was marching against him; and although usually he paid but little attention to the Porte, or recognized any orders received from it, he had now hurried there to represent the situation and ask for assistance.

Bonaparte lost no time after hearing that Djezzar had sent forward a force to occupy the fort of El-A’rich in the desert, between Syria and Egypt, and on the 8th of February set out with 12,428 men for the conquest of Syria. Djezzar, who had returned to his pachalik, having early news of the movement, despatched a force, consisting principally of cavalry, to support the garrison of El-A’rich, and they were joined there by Ibrahim Bey with a force of Mamelukes. The march of the French was painful, and they suffered greatly from thirst. However, they defeated the Turk and Mameluke cavalry with heavy loss, and El-A’rich at once surrendered. The garrison were allowed to depart on undertaking not to serve again, and four days later the army entered Palestine, and believed that their fatigues and sufferings were at an end.

Two days later, however, a cold rain set in, and the troops, who had been suffering greatly from heat, felt the change painfully. On the 3rd of March they arrived in front of Jaffa. A Turk was sent in to summon the garrison to surrender. The commandant simply ordered his head to be struck off and sent no reply. The fire of the field artillery in a few hours effected breaches at several points. The French, in spite of opposition, burst into the town, which was given up to sack, and a large number of the inhabitants, as well as the soldiers, were massacred. Between 3000 and 4000 prisoners were taken, among these doubtless were some of those who had been allowed to march away from El-A’rich. The difficulties in the way of provisioning the army were great. Many were ill from the effects of the change of climate, and the position was becoming serious.

To feed 3000 or 4000 prisoners added greatly to the difficulties, and Napoleon took a step which has been a foul blot on his reputation. They were marched into a vast square formed of French troops; as soon as all had entered the fatal square the troops opened fire upon them, and the whole were massacred. The terrible slaughter occupied a considerable time; and when their cartridge-boxes were emptied, the French soldiers had to complete the massacre with their bayonets. Of the whole of these victims one only, a mere youth, asked for mercy; the rest met their fate with heroic calmness and resolution. Napoleon’s excuse for this hideous massacre was that the soldiers had broken the engagement they took at El A’rich, but this applied to only a very small proportion of the garrison, and the massacre was wholly indefensible, for if unable to feed his prisoners, they should have been allowed to depart unarmed to seek subsistence for themselves.

The effects of this horrible massacre recoiled upon those who perpetrated it. The great number of dead bodies speedily tainted the air, and the maladies from which the troops suffered became vastly more serious, and the plague broke out among them and carried off a considerable number. Kleber’s division made a reconnaissance towards Jerusalem, but the people of Nablous and the mountaineers assailed them with so terrible a fire, as they endeavoured to make their way up the narrow valleys, that they were forced to retire and join the main body of the army. When the French marched from Jaffa there were still many of their men stricken with the plague in hospital. Napoleon has been accused of having had these poisoned.

The statement has been repeated over and over again, and has been as often vehemently denied, among others by Bonaparte himself. It still remains, and always will remain, doubtful. There can be no doubt that the transport of plague-stricken men would have been a source of danger to the whole army; and as very few of those once attacked by the plague ever recovered, but few would have benefited by the operation, while the condition of the great majority would have been rendered still more hopeless and painful by the journey. Upon the other hand, had they been left behind they would assuredly have been massacred by the inhabitants, who had suffered so terribly at the hands of the French. Rather than be so left, the unfortunate men would assuredly have vastly preferred some painless form of death at the hands of their friends. The probabilities are that all the sick, whose final recovery was considered by the surgeons as within the limits of probability, were taken on, and that those whose cases were absolutely hopeless were not allowed to fall alive into the hands of their foes.

Napoleon’s position was an extremely difficult one. He had shown much solicitude for the wounded. When the whole army were panic-stricken at the outbreak, he had himself visited the hospitals, been present at operations, talked encouragingly to the sick, and had done all in his power to relieve their condition. But he could keep the army no longer in the tainted air of Jaffa. He could not take men at the point of death away with him to communicate the malady to those who had so far escaped, nor could he leave them to be murdered in their beds by the infuriated population. It is uncertain really what course was taken; but it must be assumed that Napoleon, who was always anxious to win the affection and regard of his troops, would, putting all other matters aside, not have perpetrated any act that would have been condemned by the soldiers of his army.

CHAPTER XI

ACRE

At last all was satisfactorily arranged. By the terms of the convention, Sir Sidney Smith was appointed to the command, not only of the Turkish fleet, but of the Turkish army in Syria, a most important point, as the Porte had no confidence whatever in Djezzar, who, like many others of the pashas of the outlying possessions of Turkey, almost openly defied the authority of the sovereign. Djezzar was already at Acre, and some Turkish gun-boats, under Hassan Bey, had also been despatched thither towards the end of February. The welcome order was issued for the Tigre to sail on the 1st of March. Her destination was Alexandria, which, as forming part of the Sultan’s possessions, came under the terms of the convention; under the terms of which it had been agreed that two British men-of-war and three frigates should be stationed in Eastern waters to give such aid as was possible to Djezzar, both in active operations, and by capturing store-ships destined for the use of the French army.

The Theseus, of 84 guns, commanded by Captain Miller, was already at Acre; and her captain and Colonel Phelypeaux were giving great assistance to the pasha in putting the place into a better state of defence, while his presence there animated the pasha and his troops to determine upon a stout defence.

It was with deep satisfaction that the officers and men of the Tigre received the orders to prepare for sailing at once. They had now been nearly two months in Constantinople; the novelty of the scene had worn off, and all were impatient for active service. Things had been going on pleasantly among the midshipmen. Condor had shown by his behaviour that either he sincerely regretted the conduct that had made him so unpopular, or that the lesson that he had received had been so severe that he would not risk any repetition of it. At any rate there was peace and comfort in the cockpit.

Just at first, two or three of the younger middies were disposed to take advantage of the altered state of things, but Wilkinson, Edgar, and the other two seniors supported Condor, and told them that if the latter did not keep them in order, they would do so themselves, after which threat matters went on quietly. The change from salt provisions to fresh meat, with an abundance of fruit and vegetables, had been very pleasant, and added to the good temper and harmony that prevailed. Edgar had not felt time hang heavily on his hands, for he was constantly on shore with Sir Sidney Smith, who found his services as interpreter of great value. Had it been an ordinary case, the other midshipmen of older standing would have felt somewhat jealous, but they knew that he went as interpreter rather than as midshipman, and as some of them had leave to go ashore every day, they could amuse themselves according to their liking, while he was kept hard at work translating documents, examining the state of stores, or attending prolonged meetings between his commander and the Turkish naval officials. They had therefore no reason for envying him his post.

He himself was glad of an occasional holiday at the rare intervals when Sir Sidney had no business on land, and made excursions to his brother up the Bosphorus, or to towns on the Sea of Marmora, when Edgar was able to join parties who, hiring horses at the landing-place, took long rides over the country, starting sometimes from Pera, and sometimes from Scutari on the other side of the water. He was certainly not less glad than his comrades when the order came to prepare for sailing. The wind was favourable, the voyage was a speedy one, and the Tigre arrived off Alexandria on the 7th of March. Here they remained for some days. News had already been received by sea from Jaffa of the capture of El-A’rich, and of the approach of the French army to Jaffa.

This had caused no uneasiness, as the town, having a garrison of 8000 men, was believed to be able to resist any assault. When, however, on the fifth day after the arrival of the Tigre off Alexandria, a small Turkish vessel brought the news that Jaffa had been captured, and some 3000 of the garrison killed in cold blood, besides a large number of the inhabitants, Sir Sidney decided to start instantly, in order to aid in the defence of the important stronghold of Acre, which would certainly be the next object of assault by the French. Committing to the captain of the Lion the charge of continuing the blockade with the gun-boats under his command, sail was at once hoisted, and the Tigre started for Acre.

On her way she picked up the Theseus, which was out cruising, and the two men-of-war arrived off Acre on the 15th of March, and, to the satisfaction of all, found that Napoleon had not yet appeared before the town; Sir Sidney Smith, owing to the terms of the convention, at once assumed the command of the operations. The arrival of the men-of-war excited great enthusiasm among the garrison and inhabitants, who, now, for the first time, believed in the possibility of beating off the French, and of being spared the horrors that had befallen Jaffa.

On the following morning the French were seen marching along between the lower slopes of Mount Carmel and the sea, and the men-of-war boats, running in close to the shore, opened fire upon them, and compelled them hastily to change their course and to ascend the hill until beyond the range of the guns.

As no attempt had been made to return the fire by the artillery, Sir Sidney Smith was convinced the French must be unprovided with a siege train. Having learned from people who had escaped by boat from Jaffa, that only field-pieces had there been employed to batter the wall, he ordered a constant watch to be kept for any ships seen approaching, as Bonaparte would hardly have hoped to take so strong a place as Acre without heavy guns, and had doubtless arranged for a battering-train to be sent from Alexandria by sea. This would probably be ordered to make either for Jaffa, or for Caiffa, a small port a few miles south of Acre. The Theseus was at once sent down to Jaffa, to prevent any landing of guns or stores being effected there, while the Tigre’s boats were placed at intervals between Caiffa and Acre.

The next day a corvette and nine gun-boats were seen rounding the promontory of Mount Carmel. The signal was made for the recall of the boats, and the Tigre at once got under sail and started in pursuit, picking up her boats as they came alongside. Bonaparte had been ignorant that there were any British vessels on the coast, or he would hardly have sent the boats from Alexandria without a stronger escort, and the corvette and gun-boats no sooner caught sight of the Tigre than they made out to sea. The chase lasted for some hours, and one by one seven of the gun-boats were picked up, surrendering in each case as soon as the Tigre’s guns opened upon them. The corvette and the other two gun-boats succeeded in making their escape, but their commander, believing it hopeless to attempt to carry out his mission in the face of a British man-of-war, sailed direct to France.

The capture was a most valuable one, for the possession of the gun-boats enabled a blockade of the coast to be carried on much more effectually than could otherwise have been done, and on board were found, as expected, the guns and battering-train intended for the siege of Acre. The Tigre returned with her prizes to the port, and the crew were at once employed in transporting the captured guns and ammunition on shore, when they were conveyed by the Turkish troops to the batteries, which were before very deficient in guns, and the capture added, therefore, much to the strength of the defences.

Edgar’s services as an interpreter were again called into requisition. Mr. Canes was sent on shore with a party of sailors to assist the Turks in moving the guns to their new positions, and half an hour before landing he sent for Edgar and told him that he had arranged with Sir Sidney Smith that he was to accompany him.

“A good deal of the hard work will have to be done by the Turks, and it will save much trouble if you are with me to translate my orders to them, or rather to their officers. Sir Sidney is of opinion that there will be a great deal more for you to do on shore than on board. He will, of course, be much on shore himself, and I am carrying a note to the pasha, requesting him to assign a suitable house for him to take up his abode there and which he will make his headquarters. Lieutenant Beatty will be posted there with twenty marines, furnishing a guard, and for other purposes. A room is to be assigned to you. You will then be handy whenever the captain is on shore, and at other times will assist me or other officers with working parties. Of course two or three natives will be engaged as servants. One of them will be a cook, and Lieutenant Beatty and you will establish a small mess together. You will, of course, have shore allowances. I think that you may consider yourself fortunate, for you will have an opportunity for seeing all that goes on, while the others will of course only come ashore by turns.”

“Thank you, sir,” Edgar said, much pleased. “I shall like it very much.”

The Turkish soldiers worked well, tugging at ropes, while the sailors used levers to get the guns up steep places. Edgar was kept busy translating the first lieutenant’s orders to the Turkish officers, and for the first three days had hardly time to snatch a meal until the sailors returned at nightfall to the ship. He got on very well with the lieutenant of the marines, who was a pleasant young fellow. On the day after they landed they heard heavy firing, and going up to the highest point of the rocky promontory on which Acre stood, could make out that a number of gun-boats were cannonading Caiffa. The place appeared to make no reply to the fire, and at last two gun-boats, believing that there could be but few French troops there, sailed up the harbour.

Lambert, the French officer in command, had, however, a howitzer and a small gun, and eighty French troops, but he gave orders that these should not reply to the fire of the gun-boats, and that not a musket should be discharged until he gave the word. The two small gun-boats came on confidently, until, when at a distance of only a hundred yards from the shore, where they intended to land and set fire to the French storehouses and to do as much damage as possible, a heavy fire was suddenly poured in. The two guns, loaded to the muzzle with grape, swept their decks, and the heavy volley of musketry did much damage. Lieutenant Beatty, who had brought a telescope on shore with him, exclaimed:

“By Jove! those two little gun-boats have caught it hot. See, there is one of them putting about, but the other seems to be drifting towards the shore.”

This was indeed the fact; she was slightly in advance of the other, and was the principal target of the fire. The midshipman who commanded her, and most of her crew, were killed, and before the few survivors could recover themselves from the surprise into which they had been thrown by the unexpected attack, the vessel had grounded. The heavy fire of musketry continued, the guns again poured in their fire, and as escape was impossible, the few men who remained alive at once hauled down their flag and surrendered. The capture was a valuable one to the French. The gun-boat carried a 32-pounder, and as Napoleon’s heaviest guns were but 10-pounders, the cannon was invaluable.

As soon as its capture was known, some artillery horses were sent to the port and transported it to the batteries, at which the French were already hard at work. For the first day or two it was almost useless, for, with the exception of a few shot taken with it, they had none that would fit it; but as soon as the besieged began to fire they obtained an ample supply of cannon balls, which were eagerly collected by the soldiers, a small reward being paid for every shot that was brought in. In a short time, however, the French were in a better position for carrying on the siege with vigour, for as it became necessary to retain the Tigre and Theseus to assist in the defence of the town, French vessels were able to land artillery at Jaffa and other points, and they had ere long an ample supply for their batteries.

“There is no doubt,” Lieutenant Beatty said, “that that gun-boat has been captured, and from her not attempting to go round and sail out as her companion did, I am afraid that the crew must have been almost annihilated by the enemy’s fire. It was a very risky thing to send those two small craft in alone, even though the place had not replied to their fire, for even if the French had no guns, they might have had many hundreds of men in the town, against whom the crew of those two boats could have done nothing whatever. However, the loss is not serious except in the matter of the crew. I don’t suppose she carried more than one gun.”

“But even that is important,” Edgar said, “for I know they have pretty heavy guns on board those boats, and in the hands of the French it would give us some trouble.”

“We shall have hot work of it presently, Blagrove. The walls are absolutely rotten, and it would be absurd to call them fortifications; and if the French open fire at close quarters, they will make a breach in no time. If Phelypeaux’s plans had been carried out, the place would have been in a position to make a serious defence; but I hear that he and Captain Miller of the Theseus have been trying in vain to get the Turks to carry out their plans.

“Djezzar was always saying that what they wanted should be done, but it went no further than that; and what little has been accomplished has been done by the men of the Theseus; and I believe that the dragging of the guns we captured to their places was the first job on which the Turkish soldiers really worked; but, of course, Sir Sidney had a good deal more influence than Miller had, as he is commander-in-chief of the Turkish army, and if Djezzar did not give him the help he asked for, he would have the power to take the matter altogether out of his hands. His troops have no love for him, for, as his nickname shows, he is as cruel as he is ambitious.

“There can be no doubt that he intended to throw off the authority of the Sultan altogether. The position of the guns show that. I hear that when the Theseus arrived there was not a single gun mounted on the face of the town on the land side, every one being planted on the walls to seaward. However, I believe he is personally plucky, but as this place is nothing like so strong as Jaffa was, he must see that, as a garrison of 8000 there could not resist the enemy, the 3000 men under him would not have a shadow of a chance were it not for our help. Even we could do nothing if it were not that the position of the town enables us to cover the land approaches.”

The position of Acre, the ancient Ptolemais, was indeed very favourable for its protection by a fleet. It stood on a projecting promontory almost square in shape; three sides were entirely washed by the sea; the north-eastern side had no natural protection, but at an angle of the wall a tower, which was the strongest point of the defences, covered it to some extent. Near the tower, and with its garden abutting against the wall, stood the pasha’s palace. The masonry of the greater part of the wall was old and crumbling. From the sea to the north of the town vessels anchored there could cover the approaches to the northern side by their fire, while these could similarly be swept by ships anchored in the Bay of Acre on the south side of the fortress.

The water here, however, was too shallow for the men-of-war to anchor in. The Tigre, therefore, was moored more than a mile from the shore; next to her was the Alliance sloop. Three of the gun-boats captured from the French, and two Turkish gun-boats, lay nearer to the shore, and the fire of all these vessels swept the ground across which it was already evident that the French main attack would be directed. This was also covered by the fire of the Theseus and three of the captured French gun-boats. The French had, on their arrival, promptly seized a village within half a mile of the wall, and pushed forward their trenches with vigour, establishing four or five batteries, which at once opened fire.

Napoleon calculated that he should be master of the town in three days at the utmost, and this no doubt would have been the case had he only Turkish resistance to overcome. As soon as the Tigre returned from her short cruise, Sir Sidney Smith took up his residence on shore. He brought with him Condor and Wilkinson, to act as his aides-de-camp, and fifty sailors were established in an adjoining house in readiness for any emergency. Here the mess was now established, although Lieutenant Beatty and Edgar continued to sleep in Sir Sidney Smith’s house, the one to be near his men, the other in readiness to attend upon his commander at any moment night or day.

As far as possible the midshipmen’s mess adhered to regular hours for their meals, but Sir Sidney Smith took his at any time when he could snatch them. One or other of the midshipmen came ashore each day with a boat’s crew, so that at any moment orders could be sent to the Tigre or the Theseus. Except at the evening meal, when the fire generally slackened, it was seldom that more than two of the midshipmen’s mess sat down together, being constantly employed either in carrying messages or orders, or in keeping a watch at threatened points, in order that Sir Sidney should at once be made acquainted with any movements of the enemy.

Map of Siege of ST. JEAN D’ACRE by the French Army of Egypt from 19. March to 21. May 1799.

The French had lost no time, for on the 25th their batteries opened fire against this tower, and, after four hours’ firing, a breach, considered by the French to be practicable, had been effected.

The Turkish guns had returned the fire, aided by two mortars worked by British sailors, but the Turks believed that their walls were strong enough to stand a prolonged siege, and as the French fire was heavy against the tower, those near it had betaken themselves to safer positions. Sir Sidney Smith was on board the Tigre. Djezzar seldom stirred from his palace. He had no capable officer under him, and no one was in the slightest degree aware of the serious damage the French battery was inflicting upon the tower, and there was no thought that an attack could be made upon the town for a considerable time. Edgar had been engaged all the morning with Sir Sidney, and when the latter went on board ship he went into the next house, where he found the others at dinner.

After that was over he proposed a stroll down to the corner against which the French fire was directed. Wilkinson and Beatty agreed to accompany him, but Condor, who had been all day at work seeing guns placed in position, said that he did not care about going out again. On reaching the wall facing the French position they found that there was little doing. A few of the guns were being worked, throwing their shot into the garden between the French batteries and the town. Along the rest of the line the Turks were squatting under the parapet, smoking and talking.

“What are the French firing at?” Edgar asked a Turkish officer.

“They are firing at the tower. They will do no harm. Some of the shots came in at the loopholes; so, as the soldiers there could do no good by staying, they have come out.”

“That seems rather a careless way of doing business,” Edgar remarked as he translated what the officer said, to his companions. “Well, at any rate we may as well go and see what the effect of their fire is. Their battery is not a heavy one, but as it is not more than four or five hundred yards from the tower it may really be doing some damage.”

As they neared the tower at the angle of the wall they found that the ramparts there had been entirely deserted by the Turks.

“This is a rum way of defending a town,” Wilkinson remarked. “If this is the way the Turks are going to behave, the sooner we are all on board ship the better.”

The French fire was brisk, the thuds of the balls, as they struck the tower, occurring five or six times a minute. The three officers entered the tower. Two or three holes appeared in the wall of the floor by which they entered it.

“The masonry must be very rotten,” Beatty said, “or they would not have knocked holes in it as soon as this.”

They descended the stairs into the story below, and uttered a simultaneous exclamation of alarm. A yawning hole some eight feet wide appeared.

“This is serious, Wilkinson. Let us take a look down below.”

“Look out!” Wilkinson shouted as a ball passed just over their heads and struck the wall behind them. “Stand back here a moment.”

He ran forward and looked down.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, “there is a breach down to the bottom of the tower level with the lower storey ground, and a heap of rubbish at the foot outside. I don’t think it is high enough yet for anyone to get up to the opening, but it will soon be practicable if it is not now. Look! look! I can see a large body of French among the trees there. They are about to advance to storm the breach. Run, Blagrove, and wake up the Turks. We will go back and fetch up the marines and blue-jackets. The enemy may be in the place in five minutes.”

Leaving the tower, Edgar ran along the wall.

“Take your men to the tower at once!” he shouted to the first Turkish officer he saw. “The French are crossing the ditch.”

Instead, however, of obeying him the officer and his men ran to one of the steps leading up to the wall, and commenced shouting, “The French are in the town!”

Edgar saw that he had told the news too suddenly, and that it was hopeless for him to try to stop the flood, therefore ran along the wall until he reached the stairs leading down to the open space in front of Djezzar’s palace. As he had been frequently there before, he made his way straight to the apartments where Djezzar transacted business.

“The French have breached the tower, pasha,” he said, “and their storming party was about to cross the ditch when I came away. There are no troops there to defend the breach, and those on the wall are flying. Unless you yourself go out and rally the men to the defence the town is lost.”

Djezzar was thunderstruck at the news. He had showed himself brave in battle, but with the fate of Jaffa in his mind he now lost heart altogether.

“It is too late!” he said, and catching up his sword he ran out of the palace, and directed his flight towards the landing-place.

Edgar ran towards the breach again, and on the way came upon his two companions running along, with the marines and blue-jackets after them. Fortune, however, had done more for the town than its defenders. Led by an officer with sixteen sappers, and followed by twenty-five grenadiers, the French party prepared to mount to the assault. Their orders were to mount the breach and hold it, and the moment this was done the main body of the storming party were at once to follow. But they met with an unexpected obstacle. Instead of finding, as they had expected, merely a shallow ditch, they found themselves at the edge of a counterscarp, the wall being fifteen feet in depth, with a regular moat filled with water between them and the foot of the breach.

They had brought with them only two or three short ladders, which were intended to be used, if necessary, to aid them in clambering up the heap of rubbish to the breach. The French had no idea of the existence of the counterscarp. The ladders that they had brought were too short to enable them to descend it, and the officer in command hesitated as to what course to adopt. The mysterious silence maintained by the enemy was disquieting. That the Turks had all fled and the tower was undefended did not occur to the officer in command, and he feared that they must have placed mines in the breach, and were for the present abstaining from showing themselves or firing a shot, in hopes of tempting him to make an assault. Before he could decide what was best to be done there was a loud tramp of feet inside the tower, and then the British sailors and marines showed themselves suddenly at the openings on each floor, and at once opened a heavy fire.

Many of the French fell at once, and seeing that there was nothing to be done, the officer gave the order for the rest to retreat, which they did hastily. Djezzar was furious when he heard what had happened, and questioned Edgar; and, on hearing that the tower had been altogether deserted, as well as the adjacent portion of the wall, he ordered the instant execution of six of the officers and a number of the men for this gross neglect of their duty. He was exasperated that he himself should have shared in the panic that had seized them when informed that the French were assaulting the breach, and that no resistance had been offered by his men; and Edgar congratulated himself that he was not one of his officers. When the old pasha, however, recovered from the state of fury into which he had fallen, he complimented the three British officers highly on the quickness that they had shown, which had, as he rightly said, saved the town, for, had the French found themselves still unobserved, they would assuredly have managed to get down the counterscarp, and to establish themselves in the tower in force before any suspicion of what was going on took place.

The French, whose operations were hidden by the gardens, at once proceeded to drive a gallery in order to blow up the counterscarp, upon which their guns could not be brought to bear, and on the 29th the mine was sprung. It did some damage, but it had not been driven quite far enough. Led by an officer of the staff named Mailly, the French rushed forward as soon as the mine exploded. They clambered down over the breach that had been made on the counterscarp, crossed the fosse by three ladders they had brought with them, and reached the foot of the breach. There was, however, too great a distance between the pile of rubbish at the foot of the wall and the great hole above it for them to enter without fixing their ladders.

As they were in the act of doing this the Turks, who had at their first appearance again been seized with a panic, but had been brought back by a number of their officers, who adjured them to stand, saying that it was better to die fighting the infidel than to be shot by Djezzar, opened a heavy fire. Mailly was killed, several of the grenadiers and sappers fell round him, and the rest retired, meeting, as they climbed the counterscarp, two battalions who had joined them as soon as the breach was reported practicable; but upon hearing from the grenadiers that this was not the case they fell back again after losing their commanding officer and many men from the Turkish fire.

This success greatly encouraged the Turks, who had heard from those who had escaped from Jaffa that no obstacles were sufficient to daunt the French, and from this time Sir Sidney Smith began to entertain hope that the town could be held, of which, owing to the supineness of Djezzar and his troops, he had hitherto been very doubtful. The French at once recommenced mining. In eight days they completely blew up the counterscarp, and on the twelfth carried their gallery under the ditch with the intention of blowing up the whole tower.

By this time the besieged were aware that the French were at work mining. Colonel Phelypeaux had, during the interval since the last attempt, worked indefatigably. The breach had been filled up with combustible materials, a number of shells had been placed on the platform of the tower, with fuses attached in readiness to hurl down into the midst of a storming party, heaps of great stones had been piled there for the same purpose, and the Turkish soldiers, seeing the readiness and alacrity with which the British worked, had gained confidence. The faint sound of mining under the tower brought about a consultation between Sir Sidney Smith, Captain Wilmot, Colonel Phelypeaux, and the pasha. The engineer officer pointed out to the pasha that it was impossible to say what the result of the firing of the mine might be, as it would depend upon the quantity of powder employed.

“If a large quantity is used,” he said, “it may entirely blow down the tower and a considerable quantity of the walls adjoining it, and leave so large a breach that the French would be able to pour in in such force that your troops, who might well be panic-stricken at the explosion, would not be able to make any effective opposition.”

“But what can we do to prevent it?” the pasha asked.

“Nothing can be directly done,” Sir Sidney said; “but if we make a sally in force we might drive the French back, discover the mine, and carry out the greater part of the powder, and place a small portion under the ditch, and, exploding it, allow the water to run in; or, if the men carry with them a number of fascines, we might establish a work fifty yards from the foot of the wall. This would put a stop to their mining. An enemy attacking it would, as he advanced, be swept by the guns of the two men-of-war and the gun-boats, and the garrison would further be covered by the fire from the tower and walls. I propose that we should sally out in three columns. The central column, which will be composed of the marines and sailors of our ships, will make straight for the mouth of the mine and force its way in; the other two columns will attack the enemy’s trenches on right and left.”

“The plan seems to me to be a good one,” the pasha said; “it shall be done as you propose.”

On the night of the 15th of April two columns of men were gathered at midnight in the street leading to the water-gate, a short distance to the right of the tower, the third column close to a gate some little distance to its left. Lieutenant Beatty was, with his party of marines, to join the landing force, but to their disappointment neither Condor nor the midshipmen were to take part in the sortie, as the little party of seamen were to be held in reserve. Sir Sidney Smith himself intended to take his place on the tower, whence he could watch the operations. Wilkinson and Edgar were to act as his aides-de-camp, the latter to carry messages to the Turkish officers commanding the two columns, while Wilkinson was to perform the same office to the central column.

“You and Mr. Condor may probably have opportunities of distinguishing yourselves later on,” he said; “the other midshipmen may have their turn to-night.”

CHAPTER XII

A DESPERATE SIEGE

Just as day began to break, the gates were opened, and the columns moved out one after the other. The order that the strictest silence was to be observed was obeyed by the sailors and marines; but the Turks, who were wrought up to a pitch of enthusiasm, made so great a noise that the moment they issued from the gate shots were fired by the advanced pickets, and a few seconds later the roll of drums in the French lines broke out, and it was clear that the whole camp was alarmed. Sir Sidney Smith uttered an exclamation of anger. As concealment was useless, he then sent the two midshipmen to order all the batteries to open fire upon the French trenches, and as the first gun boomed out the ships and gun-boats on both flanks also opened fire, and the trenches by which the French must advance from the village were swept by a storm of shot. The French batteries joined in the din, while the infantry in the advanced trenches opened a heavy musketry fire.

“By Jove, the Turks mean fighting this time!” Wilkinson said, when he and Edgar had both returned from carrying their orders. “Look at them, they are going at the French trenches in gallant style.”

The dark masses could be plainly made out in the gray light that was now stealing over the sky. Undaunted by the heavy fire of the French, the Turks rushed at the earthworks, scaled them, and engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand fight with their defenders. But the chief attention of the little group on the tower, where Captain Wilmot and Colonel Phelypeaux had also stationed themselves, was riveted upon the fight going on in front of them. Already the French were thronging down from their trenches, and the blue-jackets and marines were engaged in a fierce fight. Knight, second of the Tigre, received two balls in his left arm as he advanced, but upon arriving at the top of the shaft of the mine he and the pioneers at once leapt down into it.

One ran forward to see if it was charged, and brought back news that it was not. Lieutenant Knight and the little party of sailors worked desperately to pull down the props that supported the roof of the gallery, but they had little time allowed them for doing so. Had it not been that the noise made by the Turks had given the alarm so long before they reached the spot the work might have been completed. As it was, they had performed but a small portion of it when an officer ran in to say that they must at once come up, as the party could no longer keep back the swarming throng of the enemy. Colonel Douglas, who was in command, cheered on his hardly-pressed men, who had found the resistance of the French so desperate that they had been unable to drive them out from their advanced trench.

Lieutenant Knight, exhausted by the loss of blood, and his efforts to aid the pioneers, had to be assisted from the gallery and carried off by the seamen. Major Oldfield, who commanded the marines of Theseus, was killed, with two of his men. Mr. Janverin, midshipman of the Tigre, and eleven men were wounded. Beatty, and Forbes, a midshipman of the Theseus, were both slightly wounded, as were five marines of that ship, and a seaman and two marines of the Alliance. As soon as the party began to draw off, a heavy fire was opened on the French by the Turkish troops on the wall. The batteries opened with renewed vigour, while the bugles sounded to order the retreat of the two Turkish corps. All gained the gates unmolested. The Turks were in high spirits. According to their custom at the time, they had cut off the heads of their fallen foes and brought in sixty of these trophies.

The French loss had been considerably greater, for from the desperate nature of the fighting the Turks had been unable to decapitate the greater part of their fallen foes. In addition to the heads they also brought in a great number of muskets and some intrenching tools. The last were an extremely valuable prize, as the garrison had been much hampered in their work by the small number of available picks and shovels. Although, so far as the main object of the sortie, it had been a failure, the result was, upon the whole, a satisfactory one. The Turks had met the French in fair fight, and had held their own against them, and they were so pleased that during the rest of the siege they never once wavered. The attack, too, showed the French that their enemy was not to be despised, and compelled them to take much greater precautions than before, and to maintain, at all times, a strong force in their advanced trenches.

On the 25th a tremendous explosion was heard, and the troops from all quarters rushed towards the tower to repel the expected assault. Had the mine been carried a few feet farther, the whole tower would have been destroyed, but the French miners had come across a vault which projected a little distance beyond the tower above it, and believing that its wall was that of the tower itself, they had placed the charge against it. Although therefore a partial failure, the effect was tremendous. A portion of the outer wall of the tower was blown down, some two hundred Turks, who formed its garrison, and some pieces of cannon, were buried in the ruins. A small party of French rushed forward before the smoke had cleared away and established themselves in the lower stories. The Turks, however, rallied very quickly from the shock, and opened so tremendous a fire from the walls, aided by the cross-fire from the ships, that no reinforcements could reach the party in the tower, and the next morning early they evacuated the place, which was rendered untenable by the fire of the Turks in the story above them.

So soon as they had left the building the enemy concentrated their batteries upon it. At the sound of the explosion Sir Sidney Smith, with the sailors and marines of his guard, at once rushed through the streets to the tower.

“Bravo, the Turks!” Wilkinson exclaimed, as he and Edgar ran along by the side of the sailors. “Listen to their musketry fire! It is clear that they are standing their ground anyhow, and that there is no panic this time.”

Sir Sidney was greatly relieved when, on his arrival at the tower, he found that, although shaken and shattered, it still stood an obstacle to an entry into the town. He went along the wall, warmly praising the Turkish officers and men for their courage.

“That is a weight off my mind, colonel,” he said to Phelypeaux. “I have been scarcely able to close an eye for the last week. That mine has been a perfect nightmare to me. There was no saying when it was going to explode, and although the Turks have worked hard at that countermine we set them to dig, I had little hope that you would be in time, as you had to take it right under the foundations of the tower. I think that we must congratulate ourselves heartily that it has been no worse.”

“I think so, indeed, Sir Sidney. The Turks have certainly behaved admirably to-day. I thought they would when they once got over their idea that the French were invincible. They have always proved themselves splendid soldiers when well led, and I have no doubt the example of your men, and their carelessness of danger, have animated them with a determination to show that they too can fight.”

From the time of their entering Palestine the French had been amply supplied with provisions of all sorts by the natives. As soon as he crossed the frontier from Egypt, Bonaparte had sent proclamations broadcast among the people. A large proportion of the inhabitants of the hill country were Christians, and the assurances that he came to free them from the domination of the Turks, just as he had freed Egypt, was received with enthusiasm by the simple and ignorant people, who knew very little of what was passing in the world around them. The consequence was, that as he marched north from Jaffa, deputations met him, comprising most of the leading men. These received presents, and promises that they should never again fall under the dominion of the Turks; while they, on their part, promised to supply cattle, corn, wine, and wood to the utmost extent of their resources. These promises they faithfully kept, and also did good service in aiding the transport of stores landed at Jaffa.

Sir Sidney now endeavoured to counteract the effect of Napoleon’s proclamations, and by means of native emissaries landed by the ship’s boats at various points along the coast, sent out a large quantity of addresses of his own, telling them that Napoleon was, it was true, at war with the Sultan, but that this was no question of religion, and that he was but endeavouring to pass through Syria, in order to make his way to Europe, his retreat by sea having been cut off; and that he would be perfectly ready at any time to make terms with the Sultan, and would leave them, without a moment’s thought, to the vengeance of the Turks, against whom they were now helping him. He added, that Djezzar Pasha, being convinced that they had been deceived by Bonaparte, and were acting in ignorance of the true state of things, promised solemnly that all who, now that the truth was told to them, withdrew their aid from the French, should be pardoned for the course that they had hitherto taken.

These papers soon bore fruit. The English were known to be favourable to the Syrian Christians, and the assurances of Sir Sidney Smith had great weight, and there was soon a sensible decrease in the amount of provisions and supplies brought into the French camp.

The breach widened under the heavy fire kept up continuously upon it by the French batteries, and as it was evident that other assaults would be made at that spot, the engineers began to throw out a ravelin, or advanced work, from the foot of the walls on each side of the breach, so as to take any assaulting party in flank. On the 1st of May the French, thinking that the breach must now be practicable, advanced for the fourth time.

A heavy gale had blown all day, the ships of war and gun-boats were rolling heavily at their anchorage, and it was doubtless thought that they would be unable to use their guns. In the afternoon, therefore, a body of men ran forward with six scaling-ladders; crossing the moat as before, they planted their ladders and attempted to mount the breach. They were, however, assailed by so heavy a fire of musketry from the Turks that the leading party were literally swept away. In spite of the heavy weather, the ships joined their fire to that of the batteries, and a storm of shot and shell was rained upon the trenches, and the 2000 men who had been seen to advance in readiness for the assault, finding it impossible to issue from their shelter, retired to their camp. The marines of the two men-of-war had manned the new works, and their fire contributed much to the repulse of the French.

Sir Sidney Smith, in his despatches home, expressed his regret at the heavy loss of life encountered by the French in their desperate attempts to perform the impossible feat of entering by a breach that could only be reached by scaling-ladders. The point of attack had certainly been badly chosen, for, while the masonry of the upper chamber tower was very rotten, that of the lower part was excellent; whereas the walls themselves were, in most places, badly built, and could have been demolished in a very short time by the heavy guns the French now had in their batteries. Thirty of these had been landed at Jaffa, and brought up to the front.

In addition to the sortie of the 16th April, Sir Sidney Smith kept the besiegers constantly on the alert by landing parties from the ships’ boats on the flanks of their lines of trenches. The attacks were sometimes pushed home, the earthworks were overthrown, the fascines carried off for use in the redoubts, guns spiked, and intrenching tools captured, and these attacks greatly added to the labour imposed upon the besiegers, who were compelled not only to keep strong bodies in the advanced trenches but to defend the whole line of attack against flank surprises by their enterprising foes.

The Turks vied with the British in activity, making frequent night attacks on the trenches, and generally succeeding in carrying off a number of fascines, which were greatly needed, and were of special utility in the construction of the ravelin. The day after the repulse of the fourth attack the garrison suffered a heavy loss in the death of Colonel Phelypeaux, who died of fever brought on by want of rest and exposure to the sun. On the same day another, and almost as serious a loss, was sustained, for Captain Wilmot was killed by a musket shot while in the act of mounting a gun in the breach.

The midshipmen had, two days before, lost one of their comrades named Morris, who, with three seamen, was killed in one of the sorties, eight other blue-jackets of the Tigre being wounded at the same time. On the night of the 2nd of May the enemy made two desperate attempts to capture the English ravelins, but the marines in charge, aided by the fire from the walls and ships, held their ground, and repulsed the French with much loss. Every day the fighting increased in fury. Between the 1st and 9th the French made no less than five attacks upon the breach; these were all beaten off with very heavy loss; while the defenders, on their part, made frequent sorties to compel the assailants to stand on the defensive, and to interfere with their attempts to carry the approaches up to the foot of the walls.

The fire of the vessels was still maintained, but the besiegers had so raised and strengthened the earthworks protecting their traverses and trenches that they were now able to go backwards and forwards to the front with but little danger from the ships’ fire.

Edgar had now lost the companionship both of Condor and Wilkinson. These had both gone back to their ship, for the death of Morris and the wounding of Forbes and Lieutenant Knight had left the ship short of officers. Condor acted as junior lieutenant until the latter was fit for service again, and both he and Wilkinson took part in the boat attacks and the sorties from the town. Edgar was therefore now in command of the blue-jackets on shore, who were held always in readiness to run to the aid of the garrison at any spot where there might be sudden danger.

It was believed that the French were again mining in several places, and although Colonel Douglas, who had succeeded Phelypeaux in command of the engineering operations, set parties at work to drive countermines, the work progressed slowly, and it was difficult to ascertain the precise direction in which the enemy were driving their galleries. Edgar still acted as interpreter to Sir Sidney Smith, and was the bearer of his orders to the Turkish officers. He was very glad that it was but seldom that he was called upon to accompany his chief in his visits to the tower, for the stench here from the unburied bodies of the French and of the Turks overwhelmed by the explosion was overpowering. Numbers of the Turks stationed here were attacked by mortal illness, others became delirious, and it was necessary to change the force holding it at very frequent intervals.

On the evening of the 7th of May there was immense satisfaction in the town, as a number of sail were seen on the horizon. It was certain that this was the force under Hassan Bey, which had been originally intended for Egypt, but had been diverted from its course by Sir Sidney Smith’s orders. Its arrival had been anxiously looked for during the last month, but it had been detained by calms and other causes at Rhodes, and it was only a portion of the force that now, on the fifty-first day of the siege, made its appearance.

From the enemy’s camp on the hills the fleet was made out as soon as from the town, and the effect was in a very short time apparent by the fire of the enemy’s batteries being redoubled, and it was apparent that Bonaparte had determined to make a great effort to capture the town before the arrival of the reinforcements; and in a short time a great column was seen advancing to the attack.

Two of the Tigre’s 68-pounders, mounted on native craft lying in the little port near the water-gate, opened upon them with shells, while two guns, manned by British sailors, one on the castle of the lighthouse, the other on one of the ravelins, poured grape into them. But the column moved on. The tremendous cannonade from their batteries overpowered that from the guns on the walls, and they suffered but little from the fire from the ravelins, as they had, the night before, constructed two breastworks from the end of their trenches to the breach, the materials used being sandbags and the bodies of their own slain.

In spite of the efforts of the defenders the French effected a lodgment in the tower. Its upper story had now been entirely destroyed by the enemy’s fire, and the fragments had so increased the heap at the foot of the breach that the assailants were able to mount without the use of ladders. This was the most critical moment in the siege.

Hassan’s troops were already in their boats, and were rowing to shore.

“Run down to the landing-place, Mr. Blagrove,” Sir Sidney said, “take my gig, and row out to meet the boats, and order them to come round to the port here, instead of landing at the other end of the town. There is not a moment to be lost; the Turks are losing heart.”

Edgar had just brought up the little party of sailors, and leaving them to the leading of the petty officer with them, ran down at the top of his speed to the landing-place. The gig’s crew were standing near the boat, listening anxiously to the terrible din of the conflict.

“Jump in, men, and row for your lives!” Edgar exclaimed; “every minute is of consequence. The French will be in the town in five minutes. I want to meet the boats, coxswain.”

The sailors, who had already guessed that his errand was urgent by the speed at which Edgar dashed down to the boat, stretched themselves to their oars and rowed as if racing, and met the Turkish boats a quarter of a mile from the shore.

“I am sent by the commander-in-chief, Sir Sidney Smith, to order you to row round to the mole and land there. Order the men to row their hardest. Every moment is of consequence. The French are on the point of entering the town.”

At once the flotilla of boats changed its course, the soldiers cheered, filled with the excitement of the moment, and the sailors tugged at their oars; and, headed by the gig, in ten minutes the boats reached the landing-place by the mole, and as the troops leaped out, Edgar, burning with impatience and anxiety, led them to the breach. It was still held. Some of the Turks, as the French entered the tower, had been seized with a panic and fled, but a few remained at their post. While some hurled down stones from above on to the column ascending the breach, others met them hand to hand at the top of the heap. Here Sir Sidney Smith himself took his place with three or four of his officers and the handful of blue-jackets.

The combat was a desperate one. The swords of the officers, the cutlasses of the sailors, the pikes of the Turks, clashed against the bayonets of the French. Soon an important ally arrived. The news had speedily reached Djezzar that Sir Sidney and his officers were themselves defending the breach. The old pasha had hitherto taken no personal part in the conflict, but had, as was the Turkish custom, remained seated on his divan every day, receiving reports from his officers, giving audience to the soldiers who brought in the heads of enemies, and rewarding them for their valour. Now, however, he leapt to his feet, seized his sabre, and ran to the breach, shouting to the soldiers to follow him. On his arrival at the scene of conflict he rushed forward and pulled Sir Sidney and his officers forcibly back from the front line.

“You must not throw away your lives,” he said; “if my English friends are killed, all is lost.”

Fortunately, the shouts of the pasha, as he ran, caused a number of soldiers to follow him, and these now threw themselves into the fray, and maintained the defence until Edgar ran up with the soldiers who had just landed.

The reinforcements, as they arrived, were greeted with enthusiastic shouts from the inhabitants, numbers of whom, men and women, had assembled at the landing-place on hearing of the approach of the boats. The garrison, reanimated by the succour, ran also to the breach, and the combat was now so stoutly maintained that Sir Sidney was able to retire with the pasha, to whom he proposed that one of the newly-arrived regiments, a thousand strong, armed with bayonets and disciplined in the European method, should make a sally, take the enemy in flank, or compel them to draw off.

The pasha at once assented, a gate was opened, and the Turks rushed out. Their orders were to carry the enemy’s nearest trench, and to shift the gabions and fascines to the outward side, and to maintain themselves there. The new arrivals, however, were not yet inured to fighting, and as the French batteries opened upon them, and the soldiers, leaping on to the parapets, poured volley after volley into their midst, they faltered, and presently turned and fled back to the gate, their retreat being protected by heavy discharges of grape from the 68-pounders in the port. The sortie, however, had its effect. The French had suffered heavily from the flanking fire as soon as they had shown themselves on the parapet, and the assaulting column, knowing from the din of battle that a serious sortie had been made, fell back from the breach, their retreat being hastened by the discharge of a number of hand-grenades by a midshipman of the Theseus on the top of the tower.

But the assault was not yet over. Napoleon, with several of his generals and a group of aides-de-camp, had been watching the fight from an eminence known as Richard Cœur de Lion’s Mount, and had been compelled to shift their position several times by shells thrown among them from the ships. Their movements were clearly visible with a field-glass. Bonaparte was seen to wave his hand violently, and an aide-de-camp galloped off at the top of his speed. Edgar, who was standing near Sir Sidney Smith, was watching them through a telescope, and had informed Sir Sidney of what he had seen.

“Doubtless he is ordering up reinforcements. We shall have more fighting yet.”

He then held a consultation with the pasha, who proposed that this time they should carry out a favourite Turkish method of defence—allow the enemy to enter the town, and then fall upon them. The steps were removed from the walls near the tower, so that the French, when they issued from the top of the ruined building, would be obliged to follow along the wall, and to descend by those leading into the pasha’s garden. Here two hundred Albanians, the survivors of a corps a thousand strong who had greatly distinguished themselves in the sorties, were stationed, while all the garrison that could be spared from other points, together with the newly-arrived troops, were close at hand. The Turks were withdrawn from the breach and tower, and the attack was confidently awaited.

It came just before sunset, when a massive column advanced to the breach. No resistance was offered. They soon appeared at the top of the ruin, which was now no higher than the wall itself, and moved along the rampart. When they came to the steps leading into the pasha’s garden, a portion of them descended, while the main body moved farther on, and made their way by other steps down into the town. Then suddenly the silence that had reigned was broken by an outburst of wild shouts and volleys of musketry, while from the head of every street leading into the open space into which the French had descended, the Turkish troops burst out. In the pasha’s garden the Albanians threw themselves, sabre in one hand and dagger in the other, upon the party there, scarce one of whom succeeded in escaping, General Rombaud, who commanded, being among the slain, and General Lazeley being carried off wounded.

The din of battle at the main scene of conflict was heightened by the babel of shouts and screams that rose throughout the town. No word whatever of the intention to allow the French to enter the place had been spoken, for it was known that the French had emissaries in the place, who would in some way contrive to inform them of what was going on there, and the success of the plan would have been imperilled had the intentions of the defenders been made known to the French. The latter fought with their usual determination and valour, but were unable to withstand the fury with which they were attacked from all sides, and step by step were driven back to the breach. Thus, after twenty-four hours of fighting, the position of the parties remained unaltered.

Bonaparte, in person, had taken part in the assault, and when the troops entered the town had taken up his place at the top of the tower. Kleber, who commanded the assault, had fought with his accustomed bravery at the head of his troops, and for a time, animated by his voice and example, his soldiers had resisted the fiercest efforts of the Turks. But even his efforts could not for long maintain the unequal conflict. As the troops fell back along the walls towards the breach, the guns from elevated positions mowed them down, many of the shot striking the group round Bonaparte himself. He remained still and immovable, until almost dragged away, seeming to be petrified by this terrible disaster, when he deemed that, after all his sacrifices and losses, success was at last within his grasp.

During the siege he had lost five thousand men. The hospitals were crowded with sick. The tribesmen had ceased to send in provisions. Even should he succeed in taking the town after another assault, his force would be so far reduced as to be incapable of further action. Its strength had already fallen from sixteen thousand to eight thousand men. Ten of his generals had been killed. Of his eight aides-de-camp, four had been killed and two severely wounded.

The next evening the Turkish regiment that had made a sortie on the night of their landing, but had been unable to face the tremendous fire poured upon them, begged that they might be allowed to go out again in order to retrieve themselves.

Permission was given, and their colonel was told to make himself master of the nearest line of the enemies’ trenches, and to hold them as directed on the occasion of his previous sortie. The work was gallantly done. Unheeding the enemy’s fire the Turks dashed forward with loud shouts, leapt into the trenches, and bayonetted their defenders; but instead of setting to work to move the materials of the parapet across to the other side, carried away by their enthusiasm they rushed forward, and burst their way into the second parallel. So furiously did they fight that Kleber’s division, which was again advancing to make a final attempt to carry the breach, had to be diverted from its object to resist the impetuous Turks. For three hours the conflict raged, and although the assailants were greatly outnumbered they held their ground nobly. Large numbers fell upon both sides, but at last the Turks were forced to fall back again into the town.

The desperate valour with which they had just fought hand to hand without any advantage of position showed the French troops how hopeless was the task before them; and Kleber’s grenadiers, who had been victors in unnumbered battles, now positively refused to attempt the ascent of the fatal breach again.

Receiving news the next day that three French frigates had just arrived off Caesarea, Sir Sidney determined to go in pursuit of them, but the pasha was so unwilling that the whole force of British should depart that he sent off the Theseus with two Turkish frigates that had accompanied the vessels bringing the troops.

The voyage was an unfortunate one. Captain Miller, as the supply of shot and shell on board the men-of-war was almost exhausted, had for some time kept his men, when not otherwise engaged at work, collecting French shell which had fallen, without bursting, in the town. A number of these he had fitted with fresh fuses, and a party of sailors were engaged in preparing the others for service, when from some unknown cause one of them exploded, and this was instantly followed by the bursting of seventy others. The men had been at work on the fore part of the poop, near Captain Miller’s cabin, and he and twenty-five men were at once killed and the vessel set on fire in five places. Mr. England, the first lieutenant, at once set the crew to work, and by great exertions succeeded in extinguishing the flames. He then continued the voyage, and drove the three French frigates to sea.

The loss of Captain Miller, who had been indefatigable in his exertions during the siege, was a great blow to Sir Sidney Smith. He appointed Lieutenant Canes, who had been in charge of the Tigre during his absence on shore, to the command of the Theseus, and transferred Lieutenant England to the place of first lieutenant of the Tigre.

It was generally felt that after the tremendous loss he suffered in the last of the eleven assaults made by the French that Napoleon could no longer continue the siege. Not only had the numerical loss been enormous in proportion to the strength of the army, but it had fallen upon his best troops. The artillery had suffered terribly, the grenadiers had been almost annihilated, and as the assaults had always been headed by picked regiments, the backbone of the army was gone. It was soon ascertained indeed that Napoleon was sending great convoys of sick, wounded, and stores down the coast, and on the 20th the siege was raised, and the French marched away.

CHAPTER XIII

AN INDEPENDENT COMMAND

The departure of the French had been hastened by the rapidly-increasing discontent and insubordination among the troops. During the later days of the siege Sir Sidney Smith had issued great numbers of printed copies of a letter from the Sultan authorizing him to offer a safe passage to France to the French army if it would surrender. This offer was a tempting one indeed to the soldiers. They had suffered hardships of all kinds since they had disembarked at Alexandria. They had been parched with thirst, half-choked with blinding dust, and had seen their comrades fall in numbers smitten by sunstroke. They counted but little the losses they had suffered in the battles in Egypt—that was in the ordinary way of the business of a soldier; but the dread of assassination whenever they ventured out from their lines, whether in camp or on the march, had weighed heavily upon them. Then had come the plague that had more than decimated them at Jaffa, and now they were reduced to well-nigh half their strength by the manner in which they had been sent time after time against the breach in the wall of an insignificant town, which would have been of no use to them if taken, as they could have been shelled out of it by the British men-of-war and gun-boats.

Sir Sidney Smith had passed through the terrible siege without a scratch, although freely exposing himself, and two attempts at assassination by the French emissaries in the town had also failed. The Tigre sailed at once to place herself between Jaffa and Damietta, and so cut off the retreat of the French army by sea. Not anticipating that this would be the case, Napoleon, on his arrival at Jaffa, embarked the twenty-three guns he had brought with him, on board ship, together with all the sick and wounded who were unequal to the desert march.

So great was the haste, that the vessels were despatched short of hands, and without provisions or water. As soon as the Tigre was made out the vessels all steered for her, confiding in the well-known humanity of the British to their prisoners. They were not mistaken. Sir Sidney had abundance of supplies and water put on board them, and he convoyed them to Damietta, where they received from their countrymen the surgical and medical aid that was beyond his power to afford them. Edgar was not on board the Tigre when she fell in with the convoy of wounded. Sir Sidney had, early on the morning after the departure of the French, informed him that he should, in his despatches, report most favourably of the assistance that he had rendered him both as interpreter and aide-de-camp during the siege.

“For the present,” he went on, “I shall have no great need for an interpreter, as I shall probably have little to do for some time beyond cruising backwards and forwards on the coast of Egypt to prevent ships from France entering the ports with stores and ammunition, therefore I shall be able to give you employment which I think that you will like. One of the gun-boats captured from the French is a fast sailer. Hassan Bey tells me that when he was at Rhodes he heard great complaints of the piracy that was being carried on among the islands. The Turkish troops in most of these were withdrawn by him to swell his force as he sailed south, and there are now no vessels of war in those waters. The French flag has been driven from the sea, while our work has been too serious to admit of our paying any attention to the Aegean, although, as I knew before I left London, the complaints of merchants and ship-owners of the capture of merchantmen trading with Constantinople and other eastern ports were numerous. At the present moment I can well spare one of the gun-boats; the others will go down to watch the Egyptian coast. I shall therefore commission the Foudre, and re-name her the Tigress. I shall appoint Mr. Wilkinson to the command. Mr. Condor would, of course, have had it, but he has been transferred as third lieutenant to the Theseus, and as Wilkinson is senior midshipman, he will have her. I shall appoint you his second in command. She carries eight guns, and has room for two more, which I shall place on board from those on the walls. Her own guns are fourteen-pounders, and with two eighteens she will be heavily armed. Her complement was fifty-two men. I will give you forty from the Tigre, and will draw fifteen from the Theseus, and five from the Alliance. You will need a stronger crew with two extra guns; besides, you may want to send landing-parties on shore, or to cut out piratical craft, and ought therefore to be strong-handed.”

“Thank you very much, sir. I shall be very glad to be employed on such service.”

“Please send Mr. Wilkinson to me, Mr. Blagrove. I have his instructions written out for him.”

“Sir Sidney Smith wants you, Wilkinson,” Edgar said as he went into the next house.

“What is up?”

“There is a report that you have been making love to a Turkish girl; you will get it hot.”

“Bosh!” Wilkinson said, laughing, as he put on his cap. “I have not spoken to a feminine of any kind since we left England.”

In a quarter of an hour he returned.

“Hurrah, Blagrove! this is glorious. I am all the more pleased that you are going with me. How lucky Condor being promoted to the Theseus, or of course he would have had it. Then Knight, being still unfit for duty from the effects of the wounds he received in the sortie, and our first lieutenant being new to the ship, the third lieutenant cannot be spared. Sir Sidney spoke very kindly. He said that it was a heavy responsibility for so young an officer, but that he trusted I should prove equal to it, and that I must remember that prudence was just as necessary as courage and dash. He gave me a good deal of advice, which I shall think over and try to act on when I sober down a bit. Now we are both relieved from other duty, so we will pack up our kit.

“Sir Sidney is going on board the Tigre in five minutes, and he said that we could go on board with him, and we had better do so, as there was no time to be lost. Mason, one of the gunner’s mates, is to go with us. We are to have sixty blue-jackets and five marines for sentries, and so on. He thinks that we can’t do better than take the Turk who has been cooking for him, and our cook here. They are both very good fellows. One will be our steward and cook, and the other cook for the men. The boatswain’s mate and the purser are to go with us to the brig, and see what is required in the way of stores. Everything has to be got on board by to-night, as Sir Sidney sails early to-morrow morning, so there is no time to be wasted.”

While he was talking the two midshipmen were throwing their spare clothes into the kit-bags, in which they had brought them ashore. One of the sailors slung them across his shoulder and followed them down to the landing-place. The bags were stowed under the thwarts forward, and the lads waited until their commander came down.

“Remember, Mr. Wilkinson,” the latter said as he took his seat in the boat, “you and Mr. Blagrove must be here at seven o’clock this evening, for I am landing at that hour to pay a final adieu to the pasha, and he asked me to bring you both with me. I mention it now, as it might slip my memory. The men you had on shore all gave you satisfaction, didn’t they?”

“Yes, sir, they were all willing and ready for work at any hour, day or night.”

“Then you may as well have them as a body. Some twenty of them have been killed, wounded, or laid up by fever, but with the men now on board they will make the crew up to its full strength.”

The gig was now on her way, and the shore party of sailors and marines were gathering round the cutter that had been sent to take them on board. Before leaving the quarters that they had occupied, the midshipmen had made hasty arrangements with the two Turks, who had gladly accepted their offer. They had been told that one or other of the midshipmen would be sure to be on shore some time during the day. Therefore they were to hold themselves in readiness to embark at once. On arriving on board, the lieutenant was requested by Sir Sidney to tell off five marines to form part of the complement of the gun-boat. Ten minutes after their arrival the two midshipmen started with two petty officers to inspect the stores of the gun-boat.

“She is a very pretty craft, Blagrove!” Wilkinson said with delight as he regarded with pride his new command.

“Yes. I doubt whether we should have ever taken her if she had not been so deep in the water with the guns and stores she had on board. The French certainly know how to build ships; there is no question about that. I doubt whether we have such a good-looking gun-boat in the service. Anyhow I have not seen one.”

The petty officer who commanded the gun-boat saluted as Wilkinson came up to the side and announced that he had come to take command of the boat.

“Am I to remain on board, Mr. Wilkinson?”

“Yes, Mr. Philpot. I am to have two petty officers, and Sir Sidney said that as you knew all about the brig you would be very useful to me. All the men are to remain here. Now we must overhaul the stores. What have you got on board?”

“We have a very short supply of powder and ball, not above ten rounds for each gun, and there is hardly any small-arm ammunition. There are twelve barrels of salt junk, eight of flour; there is a cask of rum that was broached last week, half a cask of sugar, and some bags of coffee. I have not sounded the water-tank, but I don’t think that there is much in there.”

A thorough examination was now made. An exact inventory of the provisions was taken, and the amount of water on board was ascertained, the boatswain’s stores were gone over, and were found to be well supplied with rope, sail-cloth, and other necessaries. A calculation was then made as to the amount that would be required for the future strength of the crew for a three months’ cruise. The boat was then rowed back to the Tigre. As soon as they arrived there, and reported to the first lieutenant what was required, a signal was made to the gun-boat to send one of her boats ashore at once with water-casks, and to fill up the tanks. A party was set to work to hoist up the barrels of stores, according to the list handed in by Wilkinson, while Edgar was sent on shore with forty men, with an order to the Turkish commander of artillery, to hand over to him two 18-pounders and as much ammunition for them and the 14-pounder guns as could be provided.

Mason, the gunner’s mate, who was to sail in the Tigress, accompanied him to aid him to get the guns down to the boat. The Turkish officer at once handed over the guns, but was able to supply but little ammunition, for which, now that the French had retreated, there was no longer any use at Acre. However, he told off twenty men to aid the sailors in getting the guns and ammunition down, and in two hours the whole had been placed on board the boats, bringing them down very low in the water. When the last party were on their way down, Edgar hurried to his old quarters and had a consultation with the two Turks, who were ordered to purchase a supply of wine, meat, and such other stores as they could find for the cabin use, and were told to have everything at the landing-place, and to be in readiness to go on board themselves, by four o’clock in the afternoon.

Had the order been given two days before, there would have been little for the Turks to have purchased; but the town was already full of natives from the hills, many chiefs having come down to assure the pasha of their fidelity, and to inform him that bands of their horsemen were hanging on the rear of the retreating French. Great numbers of the villagers had come in to inspect the scene of the desperate struggle that had for upwards of two months gone on unceasingly. Many were anxious to obtain employment in the work of burying the dead and clearing away the ruins. Almost all brought in something to sell—sheep, goats, and chickens, eggs and vegetables. Of the latter Edgar had ordered that a large supply should be brought for the use of the crew; for although native boats from the north had, while the siege went on, often arrived with fresh provisions, the supply had been insufficient for the demand, and many of the sailors were suffering alike from the want of fresh food and from their hard work, and most of all from the horrible effluvia from the unburied bodies that bestrewed the ground over which the fighting had taken place.

As the heavily-laden boats rowed out to the brig they were overtaken by the water-boats, which were now making their third trip; they reported to Edgar that what they now carried would completely fill up the tanks. Wilkinson was on board, having come off with the boats with the stores from the Tigre. It had been a hard morning’s work, but both were well satisfied with it; and as they sat down to a lunch composed of a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine Edgar had brought off with him, they chatted over the future prospect in high glee.

“This is not so spacious as the room you have been occupying for the last two months,” Wilkinson said, “but it beats the cockpit hollow.”

“Yes, it is a very snug little cabin, and the French skipper evidently knew how to make himself comfortable. It is lucky that everyone has been so busy since we took her that no one has thought of stripping it. There are his telescope, a big roll of charts, and two brace of pistols, all in their places. I know the French officers were all permitted to take their clothes away with them; so no doubt the lockers are empty.”

This, however, on examination, proved not to be the case, for in them were found three or four dozen of wine, two dozen of brandy, a good supply of chocolate, coffee, and other cabin stores.

“I see, Mr. Philpot,” Wilkinson said when they went on deck, “you have husbanded the captain’s stores most carefully.”

“Yes, sir; no orders were given to me about them, and I knew that I might be relieved any day. I think I have had three bottles of brandy. I used to take a tot every night, thinking that there could be no harm in that.”

“No harm at all,” Wilkinson said. “I suppose properly, under ordinary circumstances, the stores should have been handed over at once to the Tigre; but as no orders were given about it, I think you were perfectly right in taking toll, though I don’t know that it would have been justified by the regulations. However, certainly I shall risk it myself.”

“Of course, sir, as commander of the ship, it is a different thing altogether. I was only put here to look after the men working the guns.”

For some hours the crew were hard at work lowering down the stores into the hold, packing the ammunition in the magazine, hoisting up the two eighteen-pounders and their carriages, and getting them into position. At half-past three a boat was sent ashore, and returned with the two Turks and a quantity of provisions. The carcases of three sheep were handed over to the crew, with the greater portion of the vegetables, one sheep being kept for the use of the cabin and the petty officers, together with a supply of vegetables sufficient for some days. A good supply of fruit had been brought, which was also divided. As soon as the deck was cleared, all hands were set to wash it down.

“They need not scrub until to-morrow morning, Mr. Philpot,” Wilkinson said. “The men have had a hard day’s work; they can clean her properly the first thing to-morrow. Have you taken a look at the rigging?”

“Yes, sir, everything is in first-rate condition.”

“No doubt she was thoroughly fitted out before she sailed. She certainly looks like it,” Wilkinson replied as he glanced at the coils of ropes. “We shall get up anchor at daybreak. I want to be under sail before the Tigre. It would not look smart for a line-of-battle ship to be under weigh before a brig.”

At half-past six, Wilkinson and Edgar, both in full uniform—for the latter had provided himself with a full kit, having bought the outfit of one of the midshipmen of the Theseus who had been killed, and who happened to be about his own height and size—took their places in a boat and rowed ashore. In a few minutes Sir Sidney Smith arrived.

“Nearly ready for sea, Mr. Wilkinson?”

“Yes, sir, we shall be ready to sail to-morrow morning. Everything may not be quite ship-shape yet, but a few hours’ work on the way will get everything in order.”

“Very good work!” Sir Sidney said approvingly. “I hardly thought that you would have got your guns on board to-day.”

“The commandant gave us a complement of Turks to help to carry them down, sir, which made short work of it.”

“I expect that you will be having a more lively time of it than I shall. I may pick up a few store-ships, but blockading is always dull work. However, I hope before very long they will be sending a force out from England to finish with the French in Egypt. You must remember that you can’t be too careful with those Greek and Moslem pirates; one is as bad as the other, and from what I hear they generally work two or three together, and though their craft may be small they carry a number of men; therefore, boat expeditions against them should always be strong-handed. You must bear in mind that although a command like this is a fine opportunity for a young officer to distinguish himself, upon the other hand, if he meets with a misfortune it tells against him. If I had not seen you and Mr. Blagrove both frequently under a heavy fire I should scarcely have ventured to appoint you to such a charge; but I know that you are both cool and steady, and being so short of officers as we are, and feeling that it is of urgent importance to do something to put a stop to the alarming increase of piracy, I consider myself justified in making these appointments.”

By this time they had reached the pasha’s palace. The latter evidently considered the visit to be a ceremonious one, and a guard of honour was drawn up in the court-yard who saluted as they passed in. For a time the pasha and Sir Sidney exchanged compliments in the usual oriental style, Edgar translating their speeches.

“Without you and your brave sailors the town would have fallen on the first day the French opened fire,” the pasha said. “My men were thoroughly dispirited by the events of Jaffa, and to tell you the truth, I myself absolutely despaired of resistance, and should have left before the French arrived had not your ships come into the bay. If Jaffa, which was very much stronger than this place, and with a garrison of 8000 men in good heart, fell at the first assault, what could be done here, where the defences needed but a few shot to fall in ruins, and the garrison were panic-stricken and believed the enemy to be absolutely invincible?”

“No troops could have fought better than yours towards the end of the siege, pasha. The way in which they threw themselves sabre in hand upon the French bayonets was splendid, and my own sailors could have fought no better than they did when the French entered the town.”

“Yes, yes, they did well then, but at the beginning their hearts were water, and a hundred French grenadiers could have taken the place. I hope you will return here soon.”

“I fancy that there is little chance of that, pasha, unless it be that I hear that those three French frigates the Theseus chased a few days ago are on the coast again, in which case I may run across and try to catch them. Certainly there is no fear of the French coming here again; the news of what has taken place here will cause such excitement among the Egyptians that Bonaparte will have as much as he can do to maintain his hold on the province. I shall take care to do justice to yourself and your soldiers in sending my report of the siege to the Sultan, my sovereign’s ally, and in whose service I hold rank.”

The old pasha smiled. “At any rate, Sir Sidney Smith, I shall take care that the Sultan shall not send you hither to capture Acre instead of defending it. I have had a lesson that my troops are not so formidable as I had deemed, and he shall have no further reason for complaint against me. And now, young gentlemen,” he went on, turning to the midshipmen, “I hear that you are going to sail in one of the gun-boats captured by your commander, to endeavour to punish some of the pirates that are doing so much mischief, not only to the trade among the islands, but to vessels trading from our ports and others with Stamboul. You, young sir, have rendered me, as well as Sir Sidney Smith, great service throughout this siege by interpreting between us and thus enabling me to understand his wishes, instead of being obliged to learn them through those who might have reported their substance to the French. Likewise you have daily carried his orders to my officers, and often through heavy fire. Had you been an officer of mine I should have known how to recognize your services. I could have given you much promotion, and, for such is the custom in our army, have presented you with so many purses. As you are not, I have no power to give you promotion, and Sir Sidney Smith tells me that as a British officer you could not receive gifts in money even from a foreign monarch. He has said, however, that, as a personal present, and as a token of my regard for the services that you have rendered me, he considers that you could accept such a present in the form of a jewel as I might think it right to offer you.”

He took a box of Turkish make that stood on the table beside him.

“This,” he said, “is an aigrette which I myself have worn in battle; and no more appropriate present could be made to one whom I have seen standing unflinchingly in a fire that might well have appalled veterans.”

Then he turned to Wilkinson. “You, sir, have throughout the siege been on service on shore here, and during the first part of the siege commanded the little body of sailors who checked the first attempt of the enemy to capture the tower. I saw you fighting bravely during that terrible struggle in the breach when it so nearly fell into the hands of the French. I therefore present you with a ring of honour similar to those that I have requested Sir Sidney Smith to have the kindness to give in my name to the officers who distinguished themselves most greatly in the defence of my town.”

Edgar translated the pasha’s speech, and then opened the box presented to himself. It contained a superb aigrette, mounted upon a brooch-like ornament by which it was fastened to a turban. This ornament, which was some four inches in diameter, was composed entirely of precious stones, with an emerald of great size in the centre. He looked at Sir Sidney Smith.

“It is too valuable altogether,” he said.

“You can take it,” his commander said with a smile; “he showed it to me this morning.”

Edgar then expressed his thanks in suitable terms to the pasha, and also those of Wilkinson, whose ring contained a diamond of great beauty; then at a sign from Sir Sidney they left the room, leaving him to conclude his interview with the pasha alone. In a quarter of an hour he joined them outside the palace.

“I congratulate you on your presents,” he said. “Yours, Blagrove, is undoubtedly very valuable, and had you intended to remain permanently in the service I do not know that I could have allowed you to accept it. As it is, I see no harm in it. I may tell you that the pasha asked me if I thought that you would remain in his service. He says your knowledge of several languages would be of much value to him, and that he should like to have one about him on whose courage, as well as fidelity, he could rely. I told him that I knew that you had other plans, and that you would probably leave the navy as soon as the French evacuated Egypt, and were, I knew, anxious to return to your parents in England. I have no doubt, Mr. Blagrove, that he would have been willing to give you terms you could hardly have hoped for elsewhere; but the pasha is an old man, you would have been an object of jealousy to his officers and officials, and he is at times guilty of cruelties at which I know you would revolt, and your position therefore would have been a precarious one, and your enemies might not improbably endeavour to remove so formidable a rival in their master’s favour by assassination, so I thought that for your own interest it is better that I should take upon myself to decline the offer.”

“Thank you, sir. I should not have liked to enter his service at all. It would be an idle life as well as an unpleasant one, and, besides, I know that my father wishes me to take his place in Alexandria.”

“Djezzar has behaved very handsomely,” Sir Sidney said. “He obtained from me a list of all the officers of the three ships and of the petty officers who have specially distinguished themselves. He has given me jewels to hand to all the officers in his name, and also purses of money for the petty officers. He is, you know, immensely rich. The old fellow was really grieved that he could not offer anything to me; he said as much, but I at once pointed out that, putting everything else aside, it would be an unheard-of thing for the commander-in-chief of the Sultan’s army to receive a present from one, however high in rank, who was under his orders. He just now insisted, however, that we should exchange rings, and as he had absolutely tears in his eyes when he spoke, I could not refuse, though mine was but a signet-ring with my crest, and his a diamond worth, I should say, a thousand pounds if it is worth a penny.”

They had by this time reached the landing-place.

“Now, lads, we part here for the present; I hope that you will have a prosperous cruise, and do credit to my choice. You understand, Mr. Wilkinson, that you will remain on your station among the islands until you receive other orders from me.”

After seeing Sir Sidney off, the two midshipmen took their places in their boat, and were rowed off to the Tigress.

“That was an unexpected piece of luck, Blagrove,” Wilkinson said when they had started. “I thought, perhaps, that he might make you a present, for you have seen him every day, and besides interpreting, have carried orders to his officers under a heavy fire, and done all sorts of things, but except that I landed several times to take part in the sorties, and was lucky enough to be on shore at that fight at the breach and when the French got in, I did no active work. I had no hopes of getting anything beyond perhaps a mention in the chief’s despatches.”

“I feel quite ashamed at having so much more valuable a present, Wilkinson.”

“Oh! I am sure that no one could begrudge it to you,” Wilkinson replied. “You don’t get any special pay for being an interpreter, and it gives you a tremendous lot of work; besides, going about as you do with Sir Sidney, you were constantly under fire. Besides, the pasha saw a great deal more of you than he did of anyone else, except the chief himself. I congratulate you upon it heartily; if you ever want to turn it into money it will be quite a small fortune. Luckily my father is in a position to make me a good allowance, so I have no intention of ever parting with this ring, it will be a remembrance of the siege, and the sort of thing to wear on grand occasions.”

They found that during their absence the men had worked hard, and that, except for a final scrub, the brig was now ship-shape and in good order. At four o’clock in the morning the crew were again on deck It was still dark, but the men set to with a will to scrub the decks, for, as they said, if they passed near the Tigre they should not like the decks to look like those of a trader in ballast. An hour’s hard work and they had finished, just as the look-out reported that the Tigre’s men were going aloft to loosen sails. It was light now, and in a very few minutes the canvas was spread and the anchor catted. The Tigre, with her great sail spread, was not yet under way, and the brig, as she laid her course west, passed a hundred yards under her stern. The Tigress ran up her ensign, for the sun was just showing, and dipped it in salute. The midshipmen waved their hands to their comrades on board, and saluted more formally Sir Sidney, who stood at the bulwarks watching the craft as she passed, and who returned the salute with a cheery shout of “Well done, Tigress!”

Then she went on her course, after the exchange of a cheer between the crews clustered by the bulwarks of the Tigress and in the tops of the man-of-war.

“Now we are fairly off,” Edgar said, “what do your written instructions say?”

“I am to go to Rhodes, there to make inquiries of the port authorities as to any outrages that have been lately reported, and to be guided by what I hear. In fact, the matter is left entirely in my hands, after we once get there. I don’t know how we had better divide the watches. It would hardly be the thing for me, as skipper, to take a watch, and yet that would be the most satisfactory way of arranging it. I could take the gunner and you the boatswain. In fact, I think it would be ridiculous to work it in any other way.”

“Just as you like, Wilkinson, but I have no doubt that the boatswain would do just as well or better than I should.”

“No, I will take a watch, at any rate until we see how the petty officers get on. It is ticklish navigation among these islands, and I certainly should not feel comfortable if neither you nor I were on deck. There is the Tigre fairly under way, steering south by west. We are walking along, ain’t we? This breeze just suits her, and she is a very different craft now to what she was when we overhauled her, laden down pretty nearly to her covering-board. I don’t think, in a breeze like this, that the Tigre would be able to catch us, although, of course, if the wind strengthened much her weight would tell. However, there is no doubt at all that this craft is fast. I hope ere long we shall try our speed against one of these pirates. I expect that off the wind with those big lateen sails of theirs they are very fast, but on the wind they would have no chance with us. When we get away from Rhodes we will disguise her a bit, put a yellow streak to her, and give her the look of a trader. They are much more likely to find us than we are to find them.”

“Where are we to send our prizes, that is, if we take any?”

“If they are small craft we are to burn them, but if we take any that would be likely to be of use to the chief in the blockade we are to sell them. Any prisoners we take we are to hand over to the pasha at Smyrna if they are Moslems; if they are Greeks, the fewer prisoners we take the better. It would be infinitely more merciful to shoot them down in fair fight than to hand them over to the tender mercies of the Turks, but Sir Sidney said that he would largely leave the matter to my discretion. I would rather that he had given me positive orders in writing on the subject, for it is an awkward thing for a midshipman to have a thing like this left to his discretion, especially as at other times superior officers don’t seem to think that midshipmen possess any discretion whatever.”

CHAPTER XIV

A PIRATE HOLD

On arriving at Rhodes, Wilkinson and Edgar rowed ashore as soon as the anchor was dropped, and called upon the Turkish governor. They were received with much honour, and the governor was delighted to hear the news, which they were the first to bring, that the French had abandoned the siege of Acre and were retreating in all haste to Egypt. He gave orders for a salute to be fired at once in honour of this great success, and then asked Wilkinson what he could do for him, assuring him that he would put all the resources of the island at his disposal. Edgar, as interpreter, assured the governor that they had no occasion to avail themselves largely of the offer, but that, in consequence of the amount of ammunition expended in the siege they were short of both powder, ball, and musketry ammunition, and would be very much obliged for as large a supply as he could spare them. He gave orders at once for the issue to him of as much as they required. Edgar then went on:

“The object of our coming here, sir, is to endeavour to check the piracy that is now being carried on among the islands. Numerous complaints have reached Sir Sidney Smith from Turkish, British, and Greek merchants; ships are constantly missing, and there is no doubt that they have been captured and scuttled, and their crews massacred.”

“Your ship is a small one for such a purpose,” the governor said, for from the divan on which he was sitting he commanded a view of the port.

“I hope that she is large enough,” Edgar replied; “she is heavily armed for her size, and she is a fast sailer. Sir Sidney Smith had no larger vessel at his disposal, as he needs the two men-of-war and the small frigate for watching the Egyptian coast, and, indeed, had he been able to send a larger craft, it would not have been so well suited for the purpose, for the pirates would hardly have ventured to attack her. We shall, after we have put out to sea, disguise the brig and rig her as a merchantman in order to tempt them out. We shall not do it until we are well away, for the pirates may have friends here who might send them information. We shall head for the south, and shall give out that we are to rejoin our commander off Alexandria, as we have only come round here to give you news of the retreat of the French. We shall be glad if you will furnish us with two men having a thorough knowledge of the islands, and of the spots where the piratical craft are most likely to harbour. They must be trusty men who will not open their lips here as to our designs.”

“I can find you two such men,” the governor said. “They both used to be captains of craft that traded among the islands, but now own several vessels; some of these have disappeared, and they are continually coming up here and pestering us with their complaints, though I have told them again and again that I can do nothing in the matter; I know that they would very gladly go with you in order to aid in the punishment of the pirates.”

Such indeed turned out to be the case. Edgar had a long talk with them, and learned from them the spots where it was supposed that the pirates had their rendezvous, as many vessels whose course had lain near them had disappeared. He asked them to go into the town and gather what further information they could from men whose craft had been chased but had succeeded in getting away, and told them to be at the landing-place after dark so that their passage to the ship would be unnoticed, for they agreed with him that undoubtedly many of the pirates had agents at Rhodes and other important ports, and that intelligence was carried by small, quick-sailing craft, to the pirates, of vessels likely to be valuable prizes. An abundant supply of ammunition was taken off to the brig in the course of the afternoon, and the supply of fresh provisions replenished.

The two young officers dined with the governor, who had a large party in their honour, including many of the military authorities. The next morning they started at six, and held their course south until they were sure that the brig could no longer be seen even from the highest point on the island, and at four bells in the afternoon changed their course, and, sailing between Scarpanto and Carso, headed north and passed before nightfall between Slazida and Placa. The crew had been busy painting a broad yellow line round the brig, in slackening the rigging, and giving the vessel the appearance of a slovenly merchant brig. They had learned from the Turks that although undoubtedly acts of piracy took place in the Western Archipelago, these were comparatively isolated acts committed upon small vessels becalmed near one or other of the islands, the attacks being made in boats, but that it was among the numerous islands lying off the coast of Asia Minor between Nicaria and Samos on the north, and Serrest and Piscopia on the south, that piracy was most frequent.

As a rule, they said, vessels coming down from the Dardanelles kept well west of Mitylene and Chios, rounded Naxos and Syra and bore south to Santorin before shaping their course east, if bound for Syria, so as to avoid the dangerous neighbourhood. To begin with, they advised that the course should be laid so as to pass a short distance east of Astropalaia. This, they said, had long been one of the headquarters of piracy. It had, before the war began, been several times attacked by Turkish or European ships of war, the craft found there burnt, and the coast villages destroyed; but since then it was believed that it had again become the headquarters of pirates from some of the other islands, as its position was a favourable one for attack, lying in the direct lines of traffic between both Constantinople and Greece and the eastern trades with Rhodes, Cyprus, Syria, or Egypt.

The night was fine, with a gentle breeze. A sharp look-out was kept for two groups of tiny islands that were scarce more than rocks, that had to be passed before nearing Astropalaia. The breeze died away at daybreak, and left the vessel becalmed at a distance of some six miles from the island.

“We could not be better placed,” one of the Turks said. “You see the group of islands at the mouth of that bay; they are called the Pirate Rocks, and in the old days every one of those rocks was the stronghold of a pirate ship. Thirty years ago four Turkish frigates caught eighteen piratical craft lying at anchor behind their shelter, and destroyed every one of them, but it was not long before others took their places.”

“If there were a good wind blowing, Edgar, I should like nothing better than to sail right in there,” Wilkinson said, “but in this light breeze those fellows would run away from us with their big sails and their sweeps.”

“If there are any of them in there now,” one of the Turks remarked as Wilkinson closely surveyed the islets through his glass, “most likely they have made you out before this. I only hope there will not be too many of them.”

“The more the merrier!” Wilkinson laughed as Edgar translated this. “With ten guns and sixty blue-jackets we ought to be able to beat off any number of the scoundrels. Ask him how many guns these fellows generally mount?”

The Turk shook his head.

“They are of all sizes; some are only row-boats, without guns at all, and carrying perhaps not more than a dozen men. Two will row, and the rest lie down in the bottom. They will have some fruit, perhaps, piled up in the stern, and as they row up to a small craft at anchor or becalmed, there are no suspicions of their real character until they get close alongside. Then they leap up, and carry the vessel before the crew have time to arm themselves. If she is very small and useless to them, they will take out everything of value, fasten the prisoners down below, and scuttle her; if she is larger, they will tow her into some little bay and take out the cargo in boats at their leisure, cut the throats of the prisoners, alter the appearance of the ship so that she cannot be recognized, engage a dozen more hands, and set up on a larger scale.

“Some of the craft are used as fishing-boats when times are quiet and there are ships of war about, while the larger ones may go into trade. Some of the smaller craft will carry a couple of guns, the larger ones eight or ten, but these are generally much smaller than yours, though sometimes they are armed with cannon taken from prizes; but, as a rule, they do not trust at all to their guns. They do not wish to draw attention by their sound to what is going on, and they either attack at night and carry their prey by boarding, or, if it be in the day, the crew are sent below, the guns hidden, and they have so peaceful an aspect that it is only when they change their course suddenly, when within a few hundred yards, that any alarm is excited, and they are alongside before a trader can load his guns, and, as they are crowded with men, carry her before any serious resistance can be offered.”

At Rhodes they had taken on board a dozen bucket-loads of earth. The night before, some of these had been emptied into a large tub, which was then filled up with water and stirred briskly, after which the sailors had gone aloft and wetted the sails with muddy water, rendering their appearance dingy in the extreme. Here and there white patches had been left, which gave the sails the appearance of being old and recently mended, and with the yards set at different angles and slackened rigging, the Tigress would not have been recognized as the smart craft that had, twenty-four hours before, sailed from Rhodes. The sailors were all in high glee. After the hard work they had had at Acre they looked upon this as a holiday, and entered with the greatest zest into the work of disguising the ship.

“Now, lads, you must sit down,” Wilkinson said, “and only five or six heads must be shown above the bulwarks. They doubtless have some good glasses taken from the ships they have captured, and if they saw that we had an unusually strong crew they might smell a rat.”

It was now a dead calm, the sails hung idly down, and the brig lay almost motionless on a waveless sea.

“I am pretty sure that I can make out the upper spars of two or three craft behind that long, low islet, Wilkinson,” Edgar said after, for the twentieth time, gazing long and earnestly through his telescope.

“I fancied so two or three times, Edgar, but I am by no means sure that it is not fancy. I felt more sure of it at first than I do now, for there is a slight mist rising from the water. If they don’t come out to us by the afternoon we will go in and have a look at them. We have got half a dozen sweeps on board, and with those and the boats we could work her in in a couple of hours.”

“I hope we sha’n’t have to do that,” Edgar replied. “They would guess what we were at once, and would be scattering in all directions. We might pick up one or two, the rest would get off and carry news of us to all the islands round.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Wilkinson agreed. “It would certainly be unfortunate to begin by giving them a scare.”

“Besides,” Edgar went on, “if the calm holds till night, they may come out and try to take us by surprise.”

The day passed very slowly. The heat was great, and the men picked out spots on the deck where the sails threw a shade, and dosed off to sleep. They had, long before, made every preparation; the cutlasses had been ground, the boarding-pikes sharpened, and the pistols loaded and primed. Piles of shot lay by the side of the guns, and it needed only to fetch up the powder cartridges from the magazine to be ready for action. The marines had cleaned and loaded all the muskets, and placed them in the racks. At two o’clock, after dinner had been eaten, Wilkinson said to the boatswain:

“The starboard-watch can sling their hammocks and turn in if they like. If these fellows mean to come out and attack us, they will hardly do it before it becomes dark; perhaps not until two or three o’clock in the morning, and as we shall have to be watchful, there is no occasion for both watches to stay on deck now. The port watch shall go off from two bells till eight; as they take the first watch they will be all the brighter for a snooze beforehand.”

“I wish the beggars would come out and have done with it,” he went on to Edgar, as the boatswain turned away and blew his whistle. “I think I may as well go down, as it is your watch on deck. Have me roused when they change at two bells if I don’t wake of my own accord.”

Contrary to their usual custom in a calm, the earnest desire of all on board was that it should continue, for should a breeze spring up they would be forced to sail away, and the pirates might not pursue them. As soon as it got dark, Wilkinson told the boatswain that it would be as well that a song should be started occasionally, but that not more than five or six men were to join in chorus. If, as they came out, they heard a dead silence they might think it unnatural, and it was quite possible that a boat would come on ahead of them to try and make out what they really were. In the intervals between the songs silence reigned, and all on deck listened intently.

About nine o’clock Edgar exclaimed: “I can hear oars!”

“So can I,” Wilkinson replied, after listening for a minute. “I don’t think that they are sweeps. No, it is a boat rowed by either two or four men—four, I think.”

In a minute or two they were satisfied that it was but a boat. The order was given for another song, after which three or four men were to talk and the rest to sit down below the bulwarks and to keep silence. The two Turks took their places near the officers. From the speed at which the boat was approaching it was certain that she was not deeply laden, and there was no fear, therefore, of a surprise being attempted. She passed within twenty yards of the tafrail, and they could make out that she was an ordinary fisherman’s boat. There was a pile of nets in the stern, and four men were standing up rowing.

“I wish we could get a little wind!” one of them called out.

“We wish so, too,” one of the Turks answered. “We have been lying becalmed all day.”

“Bound for Constantinople, I suppose?” came from the boat.

“No, for Smyrna. We are bringing a cargo from Ancona, and shall load up at Smyrna with fruit.”

With a Turkish good-night the men rowed on, and the singer forward at once began another song. For a quarter of an hour they could hear the sound of the oars growing fainter and fainter, then it ceased.

“They have rowed straight on till they think they are out of hearing,” Wilkinson said. “Now they will make a circuit and go back to their friends with the news. There is no doubt we are in luck if we get a brush with them the first night after our arrival on our cruising ground.”

About three o’clock in the morning a confused sound could be heard. In two or three minutes every man was at his post.

“There are only two, or at most three of them,” Edgar said, in a tone of disappointment, “and I doubt whether they are not big rowing-boats. The strokes are too quick for either sweeps or for boats towing. What a beastly nuisance! I suppose when these fellows took back the report, that though we were a good-sized brig we did not seem to have many hands, they thought that it was not worth while to tow out a big craft when row-boats would do. They think that with twelve or fifteen hands in each boat, and the advantage of surprise, they would be able to overpower us at once.”

“The surprise will be the other way,” Wilkinson said angrily. “We shall send them all three to the bottom at the first broadside.”

“I don’t think I should do that, Wilkinson; for, if you do, there is an end of our chance of capturing any of their larger craft.”

“Of course I see that; that is the annoying part of the business. What do you propose, then?”

“I should say that the best plan would be, not to hail them until they get close on board, then for a man forward to give a sudden shout, as if he had been asleep on his watch and had only just heard them. Then they will come tumbling on board, thinking that the ship is already theirs. We might divide our men, and keep them half forward and half aft. The moment they all get on board, rush down upon them. Tell off six men, with orders to jump down into their boats as soon as they can, and to push them off, so as to cut off their retreat. The boats will be very useful to us, for we can tow the brig in with them. The people in there will think that she has been captured, and we shall get right in the middle of them before they find out that they have caught a tartar.”

“By Jove, that is a first-rate idea!”

To their surprise, the men were at once called away from their guns and divided into two parties. Edgar and the boatswain commanded that gathered forward, Wilkinson and the gunner that aft. Nine men were told off for the capture of the boats, for, as Edgar pointed out, when the pirates found that they were caught in a trap, a good many of them might leap overboard and try to get into the boats, and it might need fully three men to keep them off.

“Now, lads, you understand,” Wilkinson said, as the parties were about to take up their places, “you must crouch down and keep yourselves perfectly quiet until the word is given; it is important to get them all on board. When they see no one on deck they will think that the one or two men who might be on the watch have run below. You can use your pistols freely when the fighting once begins. When the fellows find that they are trapped, they are likely enough to fight hard, and I don’t want to lose any men. Keep your cutlasses in readiness, but trust principally to your boarding-pikes.”

The boats were but four or five hundred yards away when the crew of the Tigress took up their position. A minute later one of the men in the bow shouted suddenly:

“There are boats coming!—quick, on deck!—pirates! pirates!”

Then four or five men down in the forecastle also shouted, ran up on deck, and then, with cries of alarm, ran below again, and then, but quietly this time, joined their comrades, who were crouching as closely together as possible forward of the bitts. There was a roar of voices from the boats. They could hear the oars plied desperately; then closely following this came three bumps against the side of the brig, and, clambering up the chains, the pirates poured tumultuously upon the deck, breaking into a shout of triumph as they met with no resistance. There was a pause of astonishment as the guns were seen; then their leader shouted that these could be but dummies, intended to run out and frighten people in the daytime.

“Down below, men!” one shouted; “finish with them first; it will be time to talk afterwards.”

One of the Turks, who spoke a little French, crouching by the side of Wilkinson, translated his words. Some of the pirates rushed towards the forecastle, others aft to the cabins, where they would find the officers. Then some figures crawled out from below the tarpaulins that were loosely thrown over the guns, looked over the rail, and then sprang down into the boats, which were entirely deserted. As they did so there was a shout from Wilkinson; it was answered by Edgar, and then five-and-twenty seamen sprang up from each end of the vessel, and with a tremendous cheer flung themselves upon the pirates. Taken completely by surprise, and somewhat outnumbered, many of these were cut down or run through by the pikes before anything like serious resistance could be offered; then, headed by their leaders, they fought with the desperation of cornered animals.

All of them carried pistols as well as yataghans. Some few of them ran to the side, and with yells of fury leaped overboard to recapture the boats. Pistols cracked on both sides, cutlass and yataghan clashed together; but the British shouts rose high over the yells of the pirates. In three minutes the fighting was virtually over, the greater portion of the pirates lay dead on the deck; a few had jumped overboard, and the rest, throwing down their arms, fell on their knees and cried for mercy.

“That will do, men—that will do!” Wilkinson shouted; “scoundrels as they are, we cannot kill them in cold blood. Get some lengths of rope, boatswain, and tie them hand and foot.”

The men who had leapt into the water and swam towards the boats did not attempt to climb in when they saw three sailors in each, standing with cutlass and pistol ready to oppose them, and they swam back towards the brig. A rope was thrown to them, and they were permitted to climb up one by one, being bound and laid by their comrades as they gained the deck. None of the sailors had been killed, though several had received ugly gashes.

“Now, boatswain, put the starboard watch into the boats; lower the two ship’s boats also—we will get as many oars to work as possible till daylight.”

Each of the captured boats rowed six oars, and thirty men were soon at work towing the vessel towards the bay. The port watch then set to work to clear the deck. The dead were all thrown overboard; the others were unbound, made to strip off their jackets, then bound again and carried down to the hold, the hatchway being closed on them. They found that most of the survivors were Greeks, the Turks having to a man fallen fighting.

“These mixed crews are worst of all,” one of the Turks said. “The Turkish pirates are bad enough, and so are the Greeks—there is little to choose between them; but it is only the worst desperadoes who will consort together. You did wrong to spare a man.”

“We could not kill them when they threw down their arms,” Wilkinson said. “We will hand them over to your authorities, either at Smyrna or at Rhodes. They will make short work of them, I fancy.”

As soon as the first gleam of dawn appeared in the sky the boats were called alongside. Those of the Tigress were hoisted up, and the men in the others were given the jackets of the prisoners, some having turbans and some the Greek headgear. These garments had also been stripped from the dead before the bodies were thrown overboard, and were laid in a heap in readiness for those on deck to put on when they approached the bay. When it became daylight they were not more than a mile and a half from the islands. The men in the boats had been warned not to row too regularly; and those on board had already put on their disguises. As they passed between two of the islets exclamations of satisfaction burst from Wilkinson and Edgar, for six vessels were anchored behind the largest of these. The brig’s head was turned towards them, and as they approached shouts of welcome and exultation could be heard from their crews.

The craft were of various sizes, two of them were not above thirty tons burden, and each carried two light guns, the others were from fifty to a hundred and fifty tons, and carried from six to twelve guns. The Tigress was within about four hundred yards of the line when the helm was put down, as if to take her in between two of the largest craft. Then Wilkinson, who, with Edgar, were both in the Turkish disguises, waved his hand for the men in the boats to come alongside. As they did so there was a shout of surprise from the crew of the nearest vessel, for there was no mistaking the sailors’ white trousers for the baggy integuments of the Turks. At the same moment the port-holes opened, the guns were run out, and before the last man had gained the deck, the ten guns poured in their broadsides.

By Wilkinson’s orders three on each side were trained on the craft nearest to them, the remaining two on each broadside being aimed at the vessels next to these. The guns had all been double-shotted, and at the same moment the broadsides were fired the ensign was run up to the peak. A wild hubbub of shouts of astonishment, fury, and alarm rose from the pirate ships, and were re-echoed by numbers of men belonging to their crews, clustered on the shore, to see the prize brought in. Some ran to their guns and began to load them, others jumped into their boats or sprang overboard and swam towards the shore. As fast as the guns on board the Tigress could be loaded the fire was kept up, the forward ones sweeping the deck of the craft nearest to them with grape, while the others sent round-shot into those farther away.

It was but for a short time that the pirates thought of fighting; their light guns were no match for the heavy metal of those on board the brig, and in a quarter of an hour after the first shot was fired the largest of their craft had been sunk, and the other five were entirely deserted. The boats were manned, the brig’s head was first pulled round until her broadside bore on the shore, then the anchor was dropped, and the guns on the port side opened with grape upon the pirates on shore, and at five or six houses that were perched high on the rock. Leaving the boatswain in charge, Wilkinson and Edgar both took their places in the boats and rowed from ship to ship. All were found empty, and as they agreed that only two of the largest were worth taking away, the other three were burned.

When they were fairly on fire the boats returned to the brig. Not a pirate was to be seen on the island, though they were sure that although numbers of them had been killed, there must still be fully two hundred of them there, but they must either have hidden among rocks or made their way down to the seaward face. As several boatloads might have rowed away to other islets, it was decided to take a landing party of five-and-thirty men on shore, for as their operations would be covered by the guns of the brig, there was little probability of the pirates attempting to attack them. As soon as they landed, the sailors, led by the two midshipmen, climbed rapidly up the hill, and without a shot being fired approached the houses on the top. From these a heavy musketry fire suddenly broke out. The men would have rushed forward at once, but Wilkinson called out to them to throw themselves down behind shelter, and as they did so a shell flew overhead, struck the largest of the houses and exploded.

Shot followed shot rapidly, the fire of the pirates ceased, then Wilkinson gave the word, and the sailors leapt up and with a cheer rushed forward. Save for a few women the houses were entirely deserted, but some fifty men were seen running down the seaward face. A couple of volleys were poured into these, and then, placing a dozen of the men on guard, the midshipmen entered the houses. The shells had worked great damage. Over a score of men lay dead within them, and as many others wounded. The women had been in the cellars, and they were glad to find that none of them had been hurt. These cellars were very extensive, each house having one. Several of them were crammed with goods of all sorts, evidently the proceeds of prizes, and of such varied description that they judged that each house formed a storehouse to one vessel, as otherwise the more valuable goods would have been collected together, instead of sails, ship-gear, bales of valuable silks and embroideries from Constantinople, Broussa, Smyrna, Chios, Alexandria, and Syria being mixed promiscuously together.

Here too were a quantity of European manufactures, showing that it was not only native craft that had suffered from their depredations. There were numbers of barrels of Greek wine, puncheons of rum, cases of bottled wines of different kinds evidently taken from English ships, great quantities of Smyrna figs, and of currants, Egyptian dates, and sacks of flour.

“This will bring us in a nice lot of prize-money, Blagrove,” Wilkinson said, after they had roughly examined the contents of the great subterranean storehouses. Presently a still larger find was made. There was, close to the houses, what appeared to be a well. One of the sailors let down a bucket, and hauling it up found, to his surprise, that it was salt water. The well was deep, but certainly not deep enough to reach down to the sea level, and he carried the bucket to Wilkinson and pointed out where he had got the water from.

“There is something curious about this,” the latter said. “Lower me down in the bucket, lads.” As he descended he saw that the well was an ancient one, and probably at one time had been carried very much lower than at present. In some places the masonry had fallen in. At one of these points there was an opening cut into the rock. He called to those above to hoist him up again, and procuring a lamp at one of the houses, he and Edgar descended together. Entering the passage they found that it widened into a great chamber some forty feet square and thirty high, which was literally crammed with goods.

“I should never have given the fellows credit for having taken the trouble to cut out such a place as this,” Wilkinson said.

“I have no doubt that it is ancient work,” Edgar remarked. “I should say that at some time, perhaps when the Genoese were masters here, a castle may have stood above, and this was cut either as a storehouse or as a place of confinement for prisoners, or one where the garrison might hide themselves, with provisions enough to last for a long time, in case the place was captured. The pirates may have discovered it in going down to see if the well could be cleared out, and saw that it would make a splendid place of concealment.”

“But how about the salt water, Edgar?”

“I should say that they cemented the bottom or rammed it with clay to make it water-tight, and that as fresh water was scarce they brought up sea water, so that anyone who happened to look down would see that there was water in it. If, as was probable, it would be the Turks who captured the place, they would, when they found that it was salt, not trouble their heads further about the matter. Possibly even these pirates may know nothing of the existence of this store, which may have lain here since the last time the Turks broke up this nest of pirates, and who, you may be sure, left none of them alive to tell the tale. Well, this is a find.”

A thorough search was now made of the island, but it was found that the whole of the pirates had made their escape in boats. These had rowed away from the seaward face of the island, so that they were unseen by those on board the brig. Before taking any step to carry away the goods, the other islets were all visited and found to be deserted. Five or six more magazines of spoil were discovered. These were emptied of their most valuable contents, and the houses all burned to the ground. This operation took two days, and it required six more to transfer the contents of the cellars and great store cavern to the brig. Boats had come off on the first day of their arrival from various villages in the bay, conveying one or more of the principal inhabitants, who assured Wilkinson that they had no connection whatever with the pirates, and that they were extremely glad that their nest had been destroyed.

Wilkinson had little doubt that, although they might not have been concerned in the deeds committed by these men, they must have been in constant communication with them, and have supplied them with fruit and fresh meat and vegetables. However, he told them that he should report their assurances to the Turkish authorities, who would, when they had a ship of war available, doubtless send down and inquire into the whole circumstances, an intimation which caused them considerable alarm, as they had no doubt that, if no worse befell them, they would be made to pay heavy fines.

“The only way that you have to show your earnestness in the matter,” Wilkinson said, “is to organize yourselves. You have no doubt plenty of boats, and the first time that a pirate comes in here row out from all your villages, attack and burn it, and don’t leave a man alive to tell the tale. In that way the pirates will very soon learn that they’d better choose some other spot for their rendezvous, and the authorities will be well content with your conduct.”

The amount of spoil taken was so great that the Tigress, when she set sail again, was nearly a foot deeper in the water than when she entered the bay. The prisoners had been the subject of much discussion. It was agreed that they were probably no worse than their comrades who had escaped, and they did not like the thought of handing them over to be executed. They were, therefore, on the third day after the arrival of the brig, brought up on deck. Three dozen lashes were administered to each, then they were given one of the boats in which they had attacked the ship, and told to go.