The next morning they were at the mouth of the Gulf of Adalia.
“If Miller has gone to grief anywhere,” Martyn said to Horace, “it is as likely as not to be somewhere in this bay. He might very well have been cruising about in here to pick up anything coming out of Adalia, which is the principal port along this part of the coast. It is a large bay, you see, and if he happened to be well up it when he was caught in that sudden gale it is probable enough that he would not be able to beat out in that craft. I see on the map there are three or four small towns between this Cape and Adalia. I don’t want to show ourselves inside the cape, for the probability is the schooner would be recognized directly. What I think will be the best plan would be for you and Zaimes to take one of the boats and coast along close in to the cape. There is a place called Grambusa a mile or two around the corner, and another place called Yanar a little farther on. I want you either to board a fishing-boat and find out whether they have news of a wreck between this and Adalia, or have heard of any Greek or European prisoners being brought there from farther east. If you can’t succeed in getting hold of a fishing-boat, Zaimes might land and try to pick up the news at some cottage in the outskirts of the village. There are Greeks in all these sea-side villages, for most of the fishing is in their hands, and though in the towns there were massacres I don’t suppose they would be disturbed in quiet villages where they had been settled for generations.”
Zaimes was summoned, and agreed at once to land, as both Martyn and Horace were of opinion that there was more probability of their getting trustworthy information that way than from fishermen, who would be scared at finding their boat suddenly overhauled. Accordingly, taking a gig with six men Horace and Zaimes started for the shore, while the schooner turned her head west.
“I shall cruise backward and forward,” Martyn said. “I sha’n’t go more than four miles from the cape; so when you come out again you will only have to lie on your oars till I come back for you.”
They rowed direct to shore, crept along close to it till they saw the village half a mile ahead, and then rowed in and landed Zaimes. He was absent an hour, and his walk assured Horace that he had bad news even before he reached the side of the boat.
“I am afraid you have bad news, Zaimes.”
Zaimes shook his head. “Very bad; it could hardly be worse. There are several Christians in the village, and I learned from them that four days ago a brig that was caught in the storm was driven ashore close to Adalia. It was found that she was a Turkish vessel which had been captured by pirates. The people would have torn them to pieces, but the pasha, who had come down to the shore with a body of troops to try and save those on board the ship when she was seen to be driving ashore, protected them from the mob and lodged them in prison. They say that he has sent off to Smyrna, where the governor of Anatolia resides, to ask for instructions, and it is expected that orders will come for their execution in a day or two.”
“Stretch to your oars, men,” Horace said. “The others have been wrecked and captured by the Turks, and the sooner we are on board with the news the better.”