For Love of a Bedouin Maid

by Voleur

St. Just and his companions noted with satisfaction, and almost with a smile, the condition and fancied security of their oppressors; and, even more, the arms that lay about, and that they hoped would soon be in their own hands. The order had silently been passed along that, the moment they had broken their shackles, each man was to pounce upon a weapon, and then throw himself upon a foe. Should there not be arms sufficient to go round, belaying pins and other articles that might serve as substitutes were to be seized; and the places of these had all been marked, that there should be no hunting about when the moment for attack should have arrived.

It was fortunate for the conspirators that a portion of the crew had landed with Black Ali, for their work would be the easier; and St. Just trusted that the others would not return in time to help their comrades. But, even should they, the rising would still take place, for "death before slavery; liberty at any cost," was the motto of one and all.

Hour succeeded hour and, at last, the word was passed along that the file had done its work; every man could now free himself at will; all that was wanting was the auspicious moment, and for this only patience was required.

As the sun sank hour by hour, bringing the Mussulman's prayer time ever nearer, the suspense and mental tension of the slaves became almost insupportable, and anxious eyes were turned in the direction of the shore, on the look-out for any sign of an approaching boat; but nothing intervened between them and the land. There was a strained look on every face, for the sun was now so low that the crisis might arrive at any moment. It sank below the horizon, leaving only its reflected radiance of gold and crimson. Then faintly across the water—so faintly as to be almost inaudible, and but for the land wind it would have been wholly so—came the echo of the muezzin's call. Spite of the din on board the vessel, some one heard it and called out, "The Muezzin!"

The word acted like a spell. Drinking, dicing, card-playing were laid aside; the swearer checked his swearing, the singer ceased his song; two men who had quarrelled over their game, each accusing the other of cheating, and had drawn their daggers to fight it out, replaced their weapons in their waist cloths—they would renew the fight the moment they should have performed their orisons—and even the sleepers roused themselves. Every voice was hushed; then every knee was bent.

The moment the captives had so yearned for had arrived. Every eye was turned upon St. Just.

Silently he raised his hand. Instantly, like one man the mutineers were on their feet; there was a sound of jingling metal, and each man's hands were free; a rush was made for the weapons, but there was no confusion, for each seized the arm marked out for him, those nearest the stern making for the muskets. Had they been drilled soldiers, their movements could not have been better executed. The hope of liberty had lent them discipline.

Then all their pent up fury burst its bonds, and, with a roar more awful than that of a dozen lions sighting prey, their eyes glaring with revenge and thirst for blood, they threw themselves upon their captors.

At the sound of the clanking fetters, Black Ali's men had risen from their knees; at first so bewildered as to be incapable of taking in the situation. But, in a moment, they understood too well, and they rushed to seize their weapons, only to find they were too late. Some tried to gain the firearms, but here also they were foiled. Two or three had swords, but the rest had only daggers. They looked at one another in consternation, and their faces fell; they read their doom in the murderous looks of their assailants; but, merciless scoundrels though they were, courage was the one virtue they possessed; and, resolved to sell their lives as dearly as they could, they did not flinch from the encounter.

Then the murderous work began. The fighting was all hand to hand, for St. Just had given orders not to fire, save in the last resort, for fear of arousing those on shore; but muskets were clubbed and swords were flashed, and soon every member of the crew was hotly pressed by an opponent—some by more than one, for the mutineers now outnumbered their late masters. Having for the most part only knives and daggers, there was scarce a possibility of opposing and guard, and the others gave them little chance of coming to close quarters, whirling their clubbed muskets about until they saw their opportunity, when down with a crash they would come on some devoted head. And it was the same with those who were armed with swords; such was the rapidity of their cuts and passes, as effectually to keep the pirates at arm's length; they seemed to move with lightning speed; then, at the first opening, a dull swishing sound was heard, and the deadly steel was buried in a palpitating body, and another of Black Ali's men was sent to his account. Now and then, one of these, more agile and wary than the rest, would manage to evade the opposing sword or musket, and, rushing in, would strike his knife into his adversary. They fought with the hardihood and courage of despair, but these availed them nothing against the fury and ferocity of their assailants, who, goaded by the memory of their sufferings for the past month, now saw their way to be avenged on their tormentors, and seemed endowed with superhuman strength. What cared they for a few slashes from sword and dagger? They scarcely felt them. Among the whole of them there was not a trace of ruth or pity, no thought of quarter. They were more like raging beasts than men. They did not even think of liberty; they were swayed only by the impetus to kill. They were irresistible.