“And you can trust it,” replied the pirate chief proudly. “The word of Demetri, the Corsair of Chios, is known to be as sacred as his name is feared in the Aegean Sea.”
“By Jingo!” exclaimed the captain, looking from Tom to Charley, and back again to the pirate chief. “Demetri, the corsair! Why, that’s the very man that Mohammed told you about at Beyrout, and whom I would not believe in.”
And the honest old fellow seemed to reproach himself for not paying more heed to the boys’ story.
“The same, at your service,” said the corsair, as he had better be called now. “Now lay down your arms, and I shall treat you as prisoners on parole.”
“And you promise that we shall go free?” said Captain Harding, pleading for terms, although he felt that they were vanquished.
“Yes, when I’ve done with you. Look sharp! Time is pressing, and I cannot answer for my men much longer,” said Demetri.
So Captain Harding, Tom, and Charley, and the steward, laid on the deck the weapons with which they had hastily armed themselves when below as soon as the noise of the outbreak reached them, when they were instantly picked up by one of the Greeks, who stepped forward for the purpose by his leader’s orders.
“We are now at your mercy,” said the captain. “I don’t mind about myself, but, Corsair, or whatever you are, spare the poor boys and my remaining men.”
“Their lives are safe, I tell you,” said the other impatiently. “Have I not given my word? But call your other men down,” he added, pointing to Jack Bower, who was still half-way up the rigging, and Tompkins in the mizzen-top.
Captain Harding summoned them, and Jack Bower at once obeyed his orders; but the first mate refused to budge, saying, that as he was no longer master of the ship, he was not compelled to carry out his directions, especially if doing so jeopardised his life.