“What are they going to do with us?”
“There is very little doubt about that. They will make slaves of us, and either set us to work on the fortifications or sell us to be taken up-country.”
“I don’t expect they will keep us long,” Dimchurch said grimly.
“I don’t know; they have great numbers of Christians whom they hold captive, and it is rare indeed that one of them escapes. I suppose some day or other we’ll send a fleet to root them out, but our hands are far too full for anything [pg 215]of that sort at present. If we have a chance of escape you may be sure that we’ll take it, but we had better make up our minds at once to make the best of things until opportunity offers.”
“I only hope we’ll be kept together, sir. I could put up with it if that were so, but it would be awful if we were separated; for even if one saw a chance for escape he could not let the others know.”
“You may be sure, Dimchurch, that whatever opportunity I might see I would not avail myself of it unless I could take you both off with me.”
“The same here, sir,” Dimchurch said; and the words were echoed by Tom.
Six days later they heard the anchor run down, and presently the hatchway was lifted and they were told to come on deck. They found, as they had expected, that the craft was lying in the harbour of Algiers. At any other time they might have admired the city, with its mosques and minarets, its massive fortifications, and the shipping in the port, but they were in no humour to do so now. They regarded it as their jail. They and the three sailors were put into a boat and rowed ashore, the captain of the craft going with them. They were met at the wharf by a Moor, who was evidently an official of rank. He and the captain held an animated conversation, and by their laughter Will had no doubt whatever that the captain was telling the clever manner in which he had effected their capture. Then the official said something which was not altogether pleasing to the captain, who, however, crossed his hands on his breast and bowed submissively. The official then handed the six prisoners over [pg 216]to some men who had accompanied him, and they were immediately marched across to a large barrack-like building, which was evidently a prison. Two hours afterwards a great troop of captives came in. These were so worn and wearied that they asked but few questions of the new-comers.
“Don’t talk about it,” one said in answer to a question from Will. “There is not one of us who would not kill himself if he got the chance. It is work, work, work from daybreak till sunset. We have enough to eat to keep us alive; we are too valuable to be allowed to die. We get food before we start in the morning, again at mid-day, and again when we get back here. Oh, they are very careful of us, but they don’t mind how we suffer! The sun blazes down all day, and not a drop of drink do we get except at meals. In spite of their care we slip through their hands. Sunstroke and fever are always thinning our ranks. That is the history of it, mate, and if I were to talk till morning I could not tell you more. I suppose by your cut that you are a man-of-war’s-man?”
“You’re right,” Dimchurch said. “We got caught in a trap, and our nine mates were killed without having a chance to fire a shot.”