“Listen, Lord Erebus; neither I nor these brave men have any desire to exchange our liberty for the discipline of the bey’s soldiers. The sea in all its immensity is ours; we would be the proud courser that has the limitless desert for his career, rather than the blindfolded horse that turns the machinery to draw water from a well. Now the service of beyliks, compared to our adventurous life, is nothing more. In a word, we are devils, and we are not old enough yet to become hermits, as the Christians say. Our trade pleases us. We will not give up liberty for a prison.”
“So be it; you are a hardened villain, I believed you had nobler sentiments. But so much the worse for you; the crew is attached to me, they will listen to me and will give me a strong hand to get rid of you, if you dare oppose my plans.”
“By Eblis! what are you saying, Lord Erebus?” cried the Bohemian, with an ironical air. “You treat me so, I, who, to serve you, sang to your lady-love the song of the emir! I, who demeaned myself to the low trade of a tinker! I, who defiled myself by helping Dame Dulceline raise a sort of altar to the God of the Christians! I, who, to serve you, set the foot of the greyhound belonging to Raimond V. and even consented to shoe the old sot’s horse!”
“Be silent, you scoundrel! not a word more of that unhappy father to whom I have given such a cruel blow! Reflect well, I am going to speak to the crew, whatever it may cost me; there is still time for you to rally to my aid and become an honest man.”
“Listen, my Lord Erebus; you propose to me to become an honest man. I shall reply to you as a poet and a tinker. When for years a thick and corrosive rust has accumulated on a copper vase, and this rust has been bronzed by fire, you may rub a thousand years and more without giving back to this vase its original purity and brilliancy, and at last succeed in making it a little less black only than the wings of Eblis! Ah, well! such as we, I and my companions, we are bronzed by evil. Do not try to entice us to good. You will be neither understood nor obeyed.”
“I shall not be understood, perhaps, but I shall be obeyed.”
“You will not be obeyed if your orders are contrary to certain instructions given by Pog-Reis to the crew before departing from Port-Cros.”
“Instructions? You lie like a dog!”
“Listen, my Lord Erebus,” said Hadji, with unalterable coolness; “although I do not wish to enter into the good road, I love you in my fashion, and I would wish to prevent your taking a false step. Pog-Reis, after a certain conversation with you, which he told me, distrusts you. A little while ago, when on the height of Cape l’Aigle, where I put the old watchman to sleep, I saw our galleys coming, I descended to the shore and went on board the Red Galleon, and there I had a secret conversation about you with Pog-Reis.” “Traitor! why have you concealed that from me?” “The wise man hides three things for every two he tells. Pog-Reis told me he had informed the crew, and he did inform me that the orders which he had given you were these: carry off the young girl, give a signal that the abduction has been successful, then cruise around La Ciotat while the galleys are attacking that swarm of fat citizens; lastly, watch that our men are not surprised by the galleys of the King of France, coming from the west,—is that true?”
“That is true.”