When we got to the bottom of the ladder, as he threw the rays of the lantern round the place, they fell on the sleeping form of a young Arab, dressed in a turban, and his white haick folded gracefully round him. The instant the light fell on his eyes, he started up with a look of mute astonishment, and laid his hand on the hilt of a dagger by his side. Before he could unsheath it, Mr Vernon had thrown himself upon him, and wrenched it from his grasp, while, I following, we without much difficulty secured him; for, though graceful and active in appearance, he had not much muscular power. He did not call out. Perhaps he disdained to do so. But to prevent him, should he show any inclination to call for help, Mr Vernon rather unceremoniously thrust a handkerchief into his mouth.
“Now, hurry, D’Arcy, and call up one of the men to help carry this lad into the boat. Here is a prize worth having indeed,” he said. “He may be of incalculable service to us.” I did as I was ordered, and he quickly got the lad securely bound and up on deck. As we were dragging him along, the handkerchief fell out of his mouth, and he gave a shriek, which showed that he was no willing prisoner. The noise, however, only made us hurry him along the faster down the companion-ladder, and out at the port into the boat. We handed him along into the stern-sheets, and then, Mr Vernon giving the order to shove off, we backed out of the creek, and got the boat’s head round, to pull out to sea. We were only just in tune, for the lad’s cry had attracted the notice of his friends; and we could hear people shouting, as they ran down to the beach, to learn who it was that had cried out. Unfortunately the splash of our oars attracted their notice, and they began firing away at us, as fast as they could load their matchlocks. “Give way, my lads, give way!” cried Mr Vernon, more from habit than that the men required any inciting to pull fast, as the shot came splattering about us. The young Moor made one or two attempts to rise, evidently with the intention of springing into the water, and swimming on shore again; but we held him down; and, as we got further off, he either saw that the attempt would be useless, or, from something he learned from the shouts of his countrymen, he thought it wiser to remain quiet. We were congratulating ourselves on none of the shot reaching us, and fancied that we were getting out of danger, when we saw a dark object glide out from a creek or harbour to the westward, followed by another, and then another, which we at once made out to be row-boats, pulling probably some twenty oars or so, and famed for their speed. We had the start of them, however, by half a mile or more; and, as our two gigs were far from slow coaches, we did not altogether despair of escaping. Still the odds were fearfully against us; and, even if we were not killed outright, potato-digging and water-drawing for the rest of our days was not a pleasant prospect for contemplation, independent of failing in the object we had in view. This made all hands bend to their oars with redoubled vigour. Happily the row-boats had no guns in their bows, or if they had, the people had forgotten their powder or shot, as the few bullets which reached us now and then were the only missiles we had to dread. Well, away we pulled, with the Reefian row-boats after us, our great hopes being that we should decoy them within range of the Harold’s guns, and then, if we could bag a boat-load, we might hope to treat advantageously for any prisoners they might have taken. We made the dark, smooth water hiss and bubble under our bows, as we clove our rapid way through it, throwing up a mass of shining foam before us, and leaving a line of liquid fire in our wake. We soon gained more hope of escape, from the rate at which our pursuers came on; and we began to suspect that the boats, probably in the hurry of the moment, were manned with old men and lads, and any one who was at hand; and that they were likely rather to fall off than to increase their speed. This proved to be the case. We gained on them slowly at first, but more rapidly by degrees, till we actually ran them out of sight. Our next business was to find our ship; and I kept a bright look-out for her. Our young captive, meantime, lay at the bottom of the boat, and when he found that we had escaped from his countrymen, he seemed to take things very coolly; and when Mr Vernon assured him that we meant him no injury, he replied, that if we took his life, his tribe would some day cut us up piecemeal, and throw the bits to the jackals. As we were pulling along, we heard a shout, which proved to come from Stallman, who had, of course, seen no wreck; but he had discovered a spot where the water was deep up to the shore, and where there appeared to be no inhabitants, so that he had been able to pull close in, and could have landed, if necessary. We now altogether pulled out to sea, and in another hour fell in with the frigate. She then stood off shore, and by daylight we were out of sight of land, so that the Reefians could not have guessed who their visitors could have been. I think that I before have said that Mr Vernon was a great linguist. He spoke Arabic perfectly, and was thus able to hold communication with our young prisoner, whose fears, before long, he succeeded completely in silencing, and whose confidence also he soon appeared to have gained. All the morning Mr Vernon was in earnest conversation with the young Reefian, and, by his countenance, he appeared to be gaining information of a highly interesting character. He then went into the captain’s cabin, and after a long conversation with him, the ship’s course was shaped for Tangiers.
Just before we reached that place, he called me to him.
“D’Arcy,” he said, “I have remarked your steadiness and discretion above your years; and as I have a difficult and—I will not conceal it from you—a hazardous expedition to make, in which a companion to assist me would be very valuable, I wish to know whether, if the captain will allow you, you would be willing to accompany me?”
Where is the midshipman who would not have answered as I did, and say that I should be delighted, and that the more danger the better fun? In fact, my heart almost came into my mouth at the proposal; and my only fear was that the captain might put his veto on it.
“Oh! just tell him, sir,” said I, “that I have neither father nor mother, nor brother nor sister; and I don’t think that the great Counsellor D’Arcy would break his heart if anything happened to me, nor bring an action against him for expending a midshipman uselessly. My other uncle is a naval officer, and he would never dream of objecting.”
I do not know if these reasons had any weight with the captain, but he granted his consent to my accompanying Mr Vernon, who forthwith gave me a sketch of his proposed plan of proceeding.
“You must know, D’Arcy,” said he, “that the young Reefian informs me that the Ariadne was driven inshore by a heavy gale; and that before she had time to haul off, a calm came on, when several boats, manned by his people, pulled off to her. The master, who seems to have been a brave fellow, had no notion of yielding without a blow, and, arming his crew, gave them a warm reception. Several of the Reefians were killed and wounded before they could make good their footing on board. The gallant master was killed, and so were more than half his crew. Major Norman and the rest of the people escaped without a wound, though they expected to be cut to pieces; but their defence had so excited the admiration of their captors, that they were, instead, treated with considerable kindness, though ultimately marched off as prisoners. Miss Norman was discovered in the cabin; but when it was known who was her father, he was allowed to accompany her. The people who captured the brig belong to a tribe ruled over by a powerful chief, who resides some miles along the coast. He seems to have claimed the brig as his own perquisite; and this youth, who is a relation of his, was living on board to take care of her. Miss Norman and her father likewise became his property, but I cannot speak my gratitude to Heaven, on finding that she is treated with the most perfect respect, while her father is employed in the gardens of the Kaid. His young nephew describes him as a fierce, despotic old fellow, not at all likely to give up his captives, unless compelled by force. He says that he is so very wealthy, that no temptation of a high ransom will influence him. This, however, I am resolved, without delay, to ascertain, and to employ every means in my power to liberate my friends. He seems to owe no allegiance to the Emperor of Morocco, or to any other acknowledged potentate; so that I will not attempt the long business of negotiation, which would, too probably, end in disappointment. At first I thought of taking the lad with me, but then I considered that he would be of more service as a hostage on board; and I have promised him that, if his information be correct, and I succeed in recovering my friends, I will give him an unerring rifle and a silver-mounted dagger, so that I have won him over completely to our interest. As I speak Arabic as well as any Turk, I have resolved to assume the character of a Turkish jewel-merchant on a journey to buy precious stones for the Sultan. I feel that I can act the part very well. How does the plan strike you?”
“Very good; capital, sir,” I answered, the romance of the thing taking my fancy immensely. “But, as I do not speak a word of Arabic, or any Eastern language, I do not see how I am to help you.”
“I have thought of that,” said Mr Vernon. “You must pretend to be dumb; I hope that you will not have to hold your tongue long. I wish you also to take your violin. I do not know that the Turks ever play it; but you must be my slave, you know—a Christian slave, not long captured,—and that will account for your knowledge of so Nazarene-like an instrument. Miss Norman heard you play once on board, and you will thus certainly attract her notice, and be able to hold communication with her.”