Oh, to be free! my longing and my horror were fast becoming insupportable.
How often had the same unavailing exclamation left my lips, as with clenched hands, and teeth that gnawed my nether lip, I trod to and fro in wretchedness, despondency, and bitterness of heart, in the narrow passage or aisle formed by the double line of captives chained on each side of the Bagnio.
I had long since discovered the futility of attempting to soften, bribe, or terrify the chaoush who commanded the guard, for he feared us, as prisoners of the Moolah Moustapha; thus the rascal seemed incorruptible.
The story of Clavering's fate, and the adventure of the diamond-ring, haunted me as much as the doom that overhung the yacht of Sir Horace and her crew. Could I rest while, almost within arm's length of me, there was this jewel which had been on the white hand of a pure and innocent English girl like Laura Everingham (and which, moreover, had been her gift to a brave and honest hearted fellow like Clavering) remaining in possession of a vile and polluted assassin like Zahroun?
Twenty times I stepped towards him, with the intention of clutching his throat, though he seemed to possess thrice my strength; and I as often drew back on reflecting that, in case of a brawl, I might be torn to pieces by the prisoners if I came within arm's length of them, or perhaps I might be shot by the guards from without, as Achmet Effendi informed me that, on scuffles ensuing, they frequently fired through the gratings, without the least remorse or ceremony; and he added, that if we escaped a round of ball-cartridge we would assuredly be chained, like the rest, to the walls.
To Callum Dhu I translated the horrible story of Zahroun, and the honest heart of my foster-brother was fired with rage and sorrow when he heard the fate of Captain Clavering. The frank and manly bearing of the English Guardsman, with his love of old Highland sports, had made a most favourable impression on the mind of my follower, whose heart was apt to become somewhat encrusted by jealousy and prejudice on the approach of strangers; and now, whispering fiercely in my ear, he swore by the stones of Iona to tear the head off the shoulders of Zahroun.
The sunset had faded away; the eight reflections of the eight narrow slits which, from a shady verandah, admitted light into our vault, had disappeared from the stained and dirty walls; the place was so dark that we could not see each other's faces, as on this night the chaoush of the Turkish guard had omitted to light the lantern which usually swung from a pillar of our den; or perhaps the quartermaster of the castle had no oil in store; but what ever the reason may have been, we were left quite in the dark when I finished my translation of the story, and then Callum Dhu, filled by a sudden tempest of Highland fury, and regardless of all consequences, sprang upon Zahroun, and seizing him by the throat, endeavoured to hurl him beneath his feet; but the bare-legged and bare-armed galiondgi was brawny, muscular, and strong as himself, so the struggle that ensued between these two athletes was alike fierce and terrible! Their hard, constrained breathing; their half-suffocated exclamations, threats, and execrations in hoarse Gaelic on one hand, and guttural Turkish on the other, were drowned amid the noise made by the prisoners, who began their usual infernal chorus of shrieks, yells, oaths, and laughter, with loud and impetuous inquiries on all hands as to what was the matter, while the general row was increased by the swinging and dashing of chains.
'Callum! Callum!' I exclaimed, 'here are lights—the Turkish guards may fire upon us.'
'Let them blaze away!' was the answer of Callum, who, wholly intent on battling with his ferocious antagonist (whom he had now beaten to the ground, and on whose brawny chest he had planted his kilted knees), heeded me not, for his Celtic blood was fairly up, and his mouth, moreover, was full of it, as Zahroun, with one of his iron fetters, had given him a blow on the jaws. While they continued to fight thus, like two wild panthers, writhing, twisting, and struggling, sundry pleasant adjectives in their different languages were resorted to.
'Dioul!' was freely invoked on one side, and all the genii of hell, with the beards of the twelve imaums, and the same reverend appendages of the two hundred and twenty-seven thousand prophets of Islam wore summoned in vain on the other, while the storm of swinging chains and clamorous voices rang in the arched vault like the bellowing of a stormy sea.