Jack Harkaway's Boy Tinker Among The Turks by Bracebridge Hemyng (books for men to read .txt) 📕

artfully (so that his presence in the gallery overlooking the seraglio might not be suspected) to the corridor, where he once more discovered the two armed eunuchs on guard, looking like ebony statues again, and as calm as if they had never taken part in the short but stirring scene just described.

"I wish to see his excellency the pasha," said he, "for I came here conducting two young Englishman, of great distinction, who brought some rich presents to his excellency."

One of the men went in, and brought out the tyrant.

To him the Irishman repeated his tale with an extravagant show of respect and deference.

"Are these the two Franks?" demanded the Turk.

He gave the word as he spoke, and out from the seraglio marched Jack and Harry Girdwood, their arms tightly bound to their sides, between a strong escort of armed men.

"Yes, excellency," answered the Irishman.

"Then they have been there," returned the deputy-pasha; "you know what that means?"

"They have erred through ignorance, your excellency."

"Then," replied the Turk, with vindictive significance, "within an hour they will grow wiser. Away with them!"

And the prisoners were all marched away.

"Begorra," muttered the Irishman to himself, "it's all up."

But he never relaxed his efforts for all this.

"Pardon, O excellency," he said, "but these young gentlemen who have offended through ignorance, being princes of the royal blood of Britain, their continued absence will lead to inquiries, and——"

"They shall die like dogs if they are kings," growled the deputy-pasha.

"Let me entreat humbly that you wait the return of his excellency, for these Franks are but savages, and the least slight, even to their princes, would bring their ships of war along our coast; the town would be razed to the ground."

"Ships of war!" responded the deputy-pasha.

"Yes, excellency," continued the Irishman, with a frightened air, seeing the slight advantage he had got now, "the ship they came in is now nearing the coast. It is well within range, with the cruel engines of war these barbarians use. I tremble for the Konaki."

"They would never dare——"

"Pardon, they would dare any thing. The death of the two princes of the blood royal would be the signal for the first shot, and then good-bye to us all."

The deputy-pasha paused.

The Irishman eyed him askance.

"Begorra!" he muttered to himself, "that ought to be sthrong enough for him. Them boys have made me tell enough lies in ten minutes to last a Turk himself a lifetime. Be jabers, I've pitched it sthrong with a purpose. He who hesitates is lost. He is thinking better of it."

The Irishman was right.

"I will reflect," said the Turk, with a dignified air; "I may not spare their lives, but possibly await the return of his highness the pasha."

The Irishman was dismissed.

He bowed and retired.

CHAPTER LXX.

OSMOND AND LOLO THE SLAVE—THREATS AND DEFIANCE—THE CIRCASSIAN'S DOOM—OSMOND EARNS HIS REWARD.

The three Circassian slaves had been sent as a present to the real pasha, Osmond's master, by some friendly Algerian prince, and, arriving in the absence of the pasha, the deputy had cast greedy eyes upon the rich prize.

Finding all his authority was lost upon the Circassians girls, who stoutly refused to be persuaded, he grew vicious.

Nothing was positively known, but the tragedy which Jack and Harry Girdwood had witnessed hard by the water-gate of the Konaki, coupled with the recognition of the two eunuchs by Tinker as the two assassins whom he and Bogey had capsized into the water, made matters look altogether very suspicious indeed.

The few threatening words which Osmond had muttered to one of the fair Circassians, too, should have told their own tale.

The Circassian girls had endeavoured to screen those luckless negroes, Tinker and Bogey, for had they not led the boys into the presence of Osmond disguised as girls?

Here, then, was a pretext for further ill-usage of the unfortunate slaves.

The girls were brought into the tyrant's presence.

"Stand out, deceitful and faithless slave," he said, addressing one of the girls; "you are accused of treason to the pasha, and you know your fate."

The girl addressed made no reply but by a bold, defiant glance.

"You are to die," said Osmond, watching the effect of his words as he spoke.

The girls did not move nor utter a word.

"You know now my power," he went on to say in a low tone. "You have one chance of life yet; would you know what that is?"

He waited for an answer.

He waited in vain.

The proud Circassian girls did not deign to notice him.

"You remember what I told your sister?" he said. "Reconsider what I said, and it may not yet be too late."

"We do not need to speak again," returned one of the girls. "What we have already said is our resolve."

"Death!" hissed the Turk, between his teeth.

He eagerly watched for the terror his words should have produced.

"Sooner death ten hundred times," returned the Circassian proudly, "than acknowledge you for our master."

"You have spoken," exclaimed the Turk, fiercely.

He struck a bell, and one of the armed eunuchs entered.

"Remove these slaves to the cells as I told you; there they will remain until nightfall. You understand me?"

The man placed his finger upon his lip—a sign of implicit obedience—and the Circassian slaves were removed to prison.

They were doomed.

Another tragedy was planned—the sequel to that which Harry Girdwood and young Jack had witnessed almost as soon as they were upon the Turkish coast.

The cord and sack were once more to play their part.

And could nothing avert their fate?

Their peril was extreme—greater even than that of the English lads and their faithful followers, Tinker and Bogey.

"This is a pretty go," said Harry Girdwood, dolefully, as he looked round him.

His tone was so grumpy, his look so glum, that Jack could not refrain from laughing.

"Grumbling old sinner," said he; "you're never satisfied."

"Well, I like that," said Harry. "You get us into a precious hobble through sheer wanton foolery, and then you expect me to like it."

"Now, don't get waxy," said Jack.

Tinker and Bogey did not understand the full extent of their danger.

They sat at the further end of the same chamber, grinning at their masters, and, if the truth be told, rather enjoying the dilemma which they were honoured by sharing with them.

Their masters would be sure to pull them all through safely.

Such was their idea.

As soon as they had been left alone in their prison, the boys had made a survey, and Jack pronounced his opinion, and his determination with the old air of confidence in himself.

"They're treating us with something like contempt, Harry," he said.

"How so?"

"By not guarding us better than this," was the reply.

"I don't quite see that, Jack; the door would take us all our time to get through."

"Perhaps," returned Jack, "but look at the window, and just tell me what you think of that?"

The window, or perhaps we had better have said hole in the wall—for glass or lattice there was none—overlooked the sea.

They were in the part of the Konaki known as the water pavilion.

There was a drop of thirty feet to the water.

Thirty feet.

Just think what thirty feet is.

About the height of a two-story dwelling house.

"Supposing we get through there," said Harry Girdwood, "we should never be able to swim all the way out to a friendly ship.

"My dear old wet blanket," returned Jack, "I got you into this mess, and I'll get you out of it."

"I hope so."

They watched anxiously for a friendly ship.

At length their vigil was rewarded with success.

A big ship sailed into the bay with the British colours flying at her masthead.

They almost shouted with joy at the sight.

"That's a deuce of a way off," said Harry Girdwood.

"About a mile."

"A mile is a precious good swim," grunted Harry.

"So much the better. These villainous old Turks won't be suspicious, and a mile isn't much for either of us, I think. I don't mind it, and we can answer for Tinker and his prime minister."

"Dat's so," said Bogey, grinning from ear to ear. "Yah, yah! Me and Tinker swim with Massa Harry and Jack on our backs."

At dusk they matured their plan of action.

Tinker could float on the water like a cork, and was the swiftest swimmer of the four.

Tinker was, therefore, lowered as far down as they could manage, and then allowed to drop into the water.

It was a drop!

"Fought dis chile was gwine on dropping for a week, sar," said the plucky young nigger, subsequently.

However, once he was on the surface, and got his wind well, he darted through the water like a fish.

They watched his dusky form until they could see him no more.

"Now, Bogey."

"Ready, sar."

He was lowered and dropped the same as Tinker, and speedily was upon the latter's track.

"Now my turn," said Jack. "I shall go in for a header."

"Don't," said Harry. "You'd never come up alive if you went down head first from this height."

And Jack was dissuaded from this purpose.

He squeezed his body through the aperture.

"Give me your hand, Harry, while I look over."

His comrade obeyed, and Jack was able to see about him.

Now on his left, not more than ten feet down, was a large doorway, with a flap similar to the doors on the water-side warehouses, in London, from where the stores are lowered and raised from the barges by means of an iron crane.

"I wonder what place that is?" said Jack; "if I could only reach it, my fall would be very considerably broken."

He had a try.

They fastened their two scarves together, and Harry, making himself a secure hold above, lowered Jack, and the latter swinging backwards and forwards twice, dropped the second time fairly on the ledge.

It was a perilous hold.

But Jack was only second to Nero in monkey tricks, and he held on in a most tenacious manner.

Swinging himself up he pushed his way into a dark and gloomy place.

A low vaulted chamber, dimly lighted by a flickering old lamp.

"Where am I now?"

Before he could look further to get an answer to this question, he was startled by the sound of footsteps.

What should he do?

Leap out?

Or should he wait?

He decided to wait.

He crept up into a corner, the darkest he could find, and there, with a beating heart, he awaited the progress of events.

He had not long to wait.

Two dusky forms glided spectrally into the place, one bearing a lamp.

With this, they looked about, and Jack, with a sinking at heart, recognised the two eunuchs again.

"What devilment are they working now?" thought Jack.

They flashed the light just then upon the objects of their search.

Two huge sacks lay upon the floor.

Jack but imperfectly discerned what they were; but a sickening dread stole over him, as the two eunuchs raised one of the sacks from the floor, and bearing it to the window, while its contents writhed and struggled desperately, hurled it out.

A stifled groan.

A shriek.

A splash.

Jack could hear no more.

He was about to dart out from his hiding-place upon those black-hearted wretches, when a third person stepped into the chamber.

He said something to the two men—a few sharp words in an authoritative tone—and they retired.

Jack recognised the voice in an instant.

It was Osmond.

"What is he up to now?" muttered Jack, to himself.

A scene of intense excitement followed.

The Turk unfastened the cord which fastened the neck of the second sack, and dragged it open.

Then, raising the sack on end, he proceeded hastily to drag it down, revealing in the dim light the well-remembered form of one of the Circassian girls.

"Lolo," said Osmond, "I come to give you one last chance."

"I defy and despise you!" said the girl.

"Reflect."

"I have."

"You know well, as I have seen again and again by your looks, that I do not hate you——"

"Would you have me love the murderer of my sister?"

"Silence, slave!"

"I fear not your menaces," retorted the brave girl; "you must have seen that. The triumph is yours now—mine is to come."

"When?"

"Hereafter. Murder is against your creed as it is against mine. Do your worst."

Jack listened.

Osmond seized the girl by the wrist.

But she twisted himself free from his clutch without any particular effort.

Thereupon the Turk, with a growl of rage, drew his sword,