The boatswain’s whistle was heard, and then Tom Burdett shouted out: “All hands to quarters! Cast loose the guns and load with grape!” And in a moment a scene of animated bustle succeeded the quiet that had reigned on board the schooner since her anchor had been dropped. In a few minutes, however, the crowded boats left the ships and rowed towards shore.
“That will do, boatswain; you can call the men away from the guns,” said Martyn.
“Shall we take the cartridges out, sir?”
“No, leave them as they are. Put a fold or two of sailcloth over the touch-holes. It is just as well to be on guard as long as we are in the neighbourhood of these slippery gentry. Horace, you take my glass and go aloft, and see if you can make out any Turks in the neighbourhood. It is four or five hours since the Greek fleet first hove in sight, and there is ample time for the Turks to have come down to oppose their landing if they thought themselves strong enough to fight in the open.”
Horace ascended the shrouds, and sitting on the cap of the mainmast examined the shore.
“There are half a dozen horsemen riding about, a short distance from the shore, sir,” he called down, “but I can see no signs of troops anywhere.”
“Then it is evident they don’t mean to fight,” Martyn said to the first lieutenant. “Between ourselves, Miller, I am very glad they are not here to oppose a landing; for if they had been, no doubt the chief would have wanted to fire a few shots to help cover the operations, and I should be sorry to lift even a finger to help in this wretched business. It is like a landing from one of the old buccaneer fleets on the Spanish Main. They used to pretend they went to attack the Spaniards, while in reality they simply fought for plunder. Still, those fellows had courage—plenty of it, which is more, I fancy, than these Greeks are likely to exhibit when they once get in front of the Turks.”
Lykourgos, with his twenty-five hundred men, marched without opposition into the town of Chios, where they burnt the custom-houses, destroyed two mosques, and plundered generally the houses of the inhabitants. They occupied the houses nearest the citadel, and placing riflemen in them opened fire, while a party began to throw up a battery on a commanding position known as Turloti.
The following morning Mr. Beveridge landed, and, accompanied by Miller and Horace, and a party of twenty sailors armed with rifle, cutlass, and pistol, proceeded to Chios. He found the streets of the town in disorder, the troops—or rather the armed men, for they were under neither discipline nor control—were wandering about, occasionally going within sight of the citadel, and discharging their muskets two or three times in that direction. They looked with surprise at the orderly little party of British sailors; but as they supposed these had come to help them, they received them with exclamations of good-will. They visited Turloti, where a score or two of men were working lazily, and then went down to the port, where another battery had also been begun.