“I think so, father. He and the officers with him certainly seemed thoroughly in earnest. What do you think, Martyn? There can be no objection to our lowering the Greek flag, I should think, while acting as a neutral.”
“I should think not,” Martyn said, “and I should not care a snap of the fingers if there was. The Greek flag is all well enough, Mr. Beveridge, when we see an armed Turk of superior size in sight, but at other times I don’t feel proud of it.”
“We will lower it down then, Martyn.”
The Greek flag was lowered from the peak and a white one run up. Then the work of debarkation commenced, the Turks insisting upon shaking hands with Mr. Beveridge and the officers, thanking them in the most fervent way, and calling down the blessing of Allah upon them; while the women, many of them weeping, threw themselves on their knees and poured out their thanks, some of them holding up their infants to gaze on the faces of those to whom they owed their lives. The sailors came in for their share of thanks, and were quite embarrassed by the warmth with which they were greeted. Just as the first batch left the ship, a large boat flying the Turkish flag was seen putting out from the shore, and in a few minutes the governor with seven or eight civil and military officials came on board.
They brought with them a merchant who spoke English to act as interpreter. Martyn drew up the whole of the crew who were not engaged in boat service as a guard of honour to receive them, while he, with Mr. Beveridge, met the governor as he mounted the gangway. The governor, who was a tall and dignified Turk, expressed to them his warmest thanks in the name of the Sultan for the rescue of so many of his subjects from the fury of the populace of Athens. Mr. Beveridge, through the interpreter, explained to the pasha that, although an Englishman he had Greek blood in his veins, and had therefore joined them in their attempt to achieve independence, and was prepared to fight on their side but that, as an Englishman, he revolted against the barbarity with which the war was carried on by both combatants; that his vessel was named the Misericordia, and that while he had saved a great number of Christian fugitives on the one side, he was equally ready and pleased at being able to render the same service to Mussulman fugitives on the other side.
THE GOVERNOR COMES ON BOARD
“Your errand is a noble and merciful one,” the Turk said, “and must have the approval of Allah as well as of the God of the Christians. We have heard of your terrible vessel, how she destroyed a frigate off Cyprus, beat off the boats of our fleet at Chios, and played havoc among the shipping from Smyrna. We knew her when we saw her, for we had heard of her white sails and tall masts; but we had heard too that no prisoner was injured by you. I never thought to set foot on the deck of the ship that had become the dread of the traders of Smyrna and other ports, but I am glad to do so since those who sail her, although our enemies in battle, have proved themselves indeed our friends in the time of distress.”
When this had been translated, Mr. Beveridge invited the governor and his companions into the cabin, where coffee and chibouks were served; then they were conducted round the ship. The governor conversed for some little time with two or three of the principal Turks from Athens, and learned the full details of the surrender and the subsequent events as he watched the debarkation of the fugitives; and then, after obtaining a promise from Mr. Beveridge that he and his officers would come on shore at sunset to dine with him, he entered his boat and was rowed back.