Thereupon Ted related in as serious a tone as it was possible for him to assume all that had been told by the Padre Giovanni.
“Our position will indeed be critical if this be true,” muttered the consul, with a look of anxiety. “Omar is a man who fears nothing, and has unbounded faith in his men and fortifications. Moreover, he is utterly regardless of consequences, and has no mercy when once roused. My poor defenceless wife and children!—if—”
“You may depend upon me, sir,” said Ted, seeing that he hesitated; “I’ll stick to ’em, I will, through—”
“I have no doubt of that, my man,” interrupted the consul, with a sad smile, “but your aid in this case will be useless. The fact is that the preservation of your life will be a more difficult matter for me to accomplish than my own. If Lord Exmouth really arrives and proceeds to extremities, I and my family will be in the greatest peril from these irate corsairs, but you, my poor fellow, are doomed whatever happens, seeing that you have laid violent hands on the Turkish guard of the gates.”
“Sure, an’ small blame to me,” said Ted.
“I do not blame you, but the Turks will, and they will do more,—they will strangle you for a certainty the moment they get hold of you, and no power that I possess can save you, so that your only chance lies in making your escape from the city, either by land or sea.”
“An’ that won’t be aisy, sur,” said the seaman, with a perplexed look.
“Indeed it will not. You may be sure that the Turks are even now searching for you, and as they know that I am here, and that you belong to my household—”
“By your lave,” said Ted suddenly, “it sames to me that it’s time for Ted Flaggan to look after his owld bones. I’m grateful to ’ee, sur.—Good-night.”
He pulled his boar-head down without awaiting a reply, and went hastily off in the direction of a small outhouse where Rais Ali was enjoying himself amid a circle of the French consul’s domestics.