Lancelot and I could not help expressing our disappointment to each other; we soon found, however, that the admiral had no intention of abandoning the undertaking, but that it was necessary to obtain provisions before we commenced operations, our stock having run short.
We now steered for Cagliari in Sardinia, where we lay while vessels were despatched in all directions to obtain bread, and the ships in harbour were being refitted. Our hearts beat high when once more the tall minarets and domes of the pirate city appeared in sight, for we made no doubt that the Dey would yield, and that we should ere long recover our friends. Again the admiral sent an officer on shore, repeating his former demands and requesting water for his ships.
The Dey insolently replied that “there stood his castles of Porto Ferino and Goletta, and until the English could carry them off in their ships, nothing should they have from him.”
“Let the Dey understand that such conduct shall not go unpunished,” answered the admiral to the barbarian envoy, his anger rising, and his usually calm eye flashing fire; “God has given water to all His creatures, and the sin which one commits who refuses it to another is great indeed.”
No sooner had the envoy taken his departure than, to the surprise of all, the admiral ordered the fleet to sail away from the harbour, not leaving a ship behind.
“Can the admiral really intend thus to allow the pirates to escape with impunity?” said Dick to Lancelot and me, as we watched the Moorish city recede from our eyes. “I much fear that your relatives will be left to languish in hopeless captivity.”
“Have you sailed so many years with our good commander, and yet can fancy such a thing?” exclaimed Martin, who overheard the remark. “Depend upon it, he has his reasons, and I shrewdly guess wishes to throw the pirates off their guard. Rest assured before long we shall get a nearer sight of Tunis than we have hitherto had.”
Notwithstanding what Martin said, we steered on until we once more entered the Bay of Cagliari. We had good reason, however, to believe that the admiral intended after all to attack Tunis. Orders were issued to all the ships to prepare for some severe work.
At length, after well-nigh a week had passed, we made the signal to weigh anchor, and the whole fleet before a light northerly breeze stood under full sail towards the Bay of Tunis.
Just as the evening of the 3rd of April, 1655, was approaching, we stood into the bay, where we brought up, the now well-known towers and minarets of Tunis in sight. The night which came on might be the last we knew for many a brave fellow. It was spent in preparation for the work we were destined to undertake the next day. Ere the sun rose a gun from the flag-ship was fired as a signal to the crews of the whole fleet to offer up prayer to Almighty God for protection and success in the struggle about to commence in our righteous cause.