The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

me as I trust you; for ’tis in your power to reveal all to Haroun, and so bring us all to the galleys. Have you no faith in a poor broken Englishman?”

      “Yes,” says I; “I’ll trust you.”

      Then we rose, clapping hands, and he left me, with tears of gratitude and joy in his eyes. Telling my friends I had something of a secret nature to impart, we went out to the end of the mole, where we were secure from eavesdroppers, and there I laid the whole story before them, whereupon we fell debating what we should do, looking at this matter from every side, with a view to our security; but, slavery lying before us, and no better means of escaping it coming to our minds, we did at last unanimously agree to trust Joe Groves rather than Haroun.

      The next day there fell a great deluge of rain, and the morrow being the feast of Ramadah, we regarded this as highly favourable to our escape; for here when rain falls it ceases not for forty-eight hours, and thus might we count upon the aid of darkness. And that evening as we were regarding some merchandise in a bazaar, a fellow sidles up to me, and whispers (fingering a piece of cloth as if he were minded to buy it):

      “Does all go well?”

      Then perceiving this was Joe Groves, I answered in the same manner:

      “All goes well.”

      “Tomorrow at midnight?”

      “Tomorrow at midnight,” I return. Upon which, casting down the cloth, he goes away without further sign.

      And now comes in the feast of Ramadah with a heavy, steady downpour of rain all day, and no sign of ceasing at sundown, which greatly contented us. About ten, the house we lodged in being quite still, and our fear of accident pressing us to depart, we crept silently out into the street without let or hindrance (though I warrant some spy of Mohand’s was watching to carry information of our flight to his master), and so through the narrow deserted alleys to the outskirts of the town, and thence by the river side to the great rock, with only just so much light as enabled us to hang together, and no more. And I do believe we should have floundered into the river o’ one side of the marsh of canes or t’other, but that having gone over this road the last time with the thought that it might lead us to liberty, every object by the way impressed itself upon my mind most astonishingly.

      Here under this rock stood we above an hour with no sound but the beating of the rain, and the lap of the water running in from the sea. Then, as it might be about half-past eleven, a voice close beside us (which I knew for Joe Groves, though I could see no one but us four, Jack by my side, and Moll bound close to her husband) says:

      “All goes well?”

      “Yes, all goes well,” says I; whereupon he gives a cry like the croak of a frog, and his comrades steal up almost unseen and unheard, save that each as he came whispered his name, as Spinks, Davis, Lee, Best, etc., till their number was all told. Then Groves, who was clearly chosen their captain, calls Spinks, Lee, and Best to stand with him, and bids the others and us to stand back against the canes till we are called. So we do his bidding, and fall back to the growth of canes, whence we could but dimly make out the mass of the rock for the darkness, and there waited breathless, listening for the sound of oars. But these Moors, for a better pretence of secrecy, had muffled their oars, so that we knew not they were at hand until we heard Haroun’s voice speaking low.

      “Englishmen, are you there?” asks he.

      “Aye, we four,” whispers Groves, in reply.

      Then we hear them wade into the water and get into the boat with whispering of Haroun where they are to dispose themselves, and so forth. After that silence for about ten minutes, and no sound but the ceaseless rain until we next hear Groves’ voice.

      “Davis, Negus,” whispers he, on which two of our number leave us and go out to the boat to replace Haroun and that other Moor, who, in the manner of the Turks, had been strangled and cast overboard.

      And now follows a much longer period of silence, but at length that comes to an end, and we hear Groves’ voice again whispering us to come. At the first sound of his voice his three comrades rush forward; but Groves, recognising them, says hoarsely, “Back, every one of you but those I called, or I’ll brain you! There’s room but for six in the boat, and those who helped us shall go first, as I ordered. The rest must wait their time.”

      So these fellows, who would have ousted us, give way, grumbling, and Mr. Godwin carrying Moll to the boat, Dawson and I wade in after him, and so, with great gratitude, take our places as Groves directs. We being in, he and his mate lay to their oars, and pull out to the felucca, guided by the lanthorn on her bulwarks.

      Having put us aboard safely, Groves and his mate fetch the three fellows that remained ashore, and now all being embarked, they abandon the small boat, slip the anchor, and get out their long sweeps, all in desperate haste; for that absence of wind, which I at first took to be a blessing, appeared now to be a curse, and our main hope of escape lay in pulling far out to sea before Mohand discovered the trick put upon him, and gave chase. All night long we toiled with most savage energy, dividing our number into two batches, so that one might go to the oars as the other tired, turn and turn about. Not one of us but did his utmost—nay, even Moll would stand by her husband, and strain like any man at this work. But for all our labour, Alger was yet in sight when the break of day gave us light to see it. Then was every eye searching the waters for sign of a sail, be it to save or to undo us. Sail saw we none, but about nine o’clock Groves, scanning the waters over against Alger, perceived something which he took to be a galley; nor were we kept long in uncertainty, for by ten it was obvious to us all, showing that it had gained considerably upon us in spite of our frantic exertions, which convinced us that this was Mohand, and that he had discovered us with the help of a spy-glass, maybe.

      At the prospect of being overtaken and carried back to slavery, a sort of madness possessed those at the oars, the first oar pulling with such a fury of violence that it snapped at the rowlock, and was of no further use. Still we made good progress, but what could we with three oars do against the galley which maybe was mounted with a dozen? Some were for cutting down the mast and throwing spars, sails, and every useless thing overboard to lighten our ship, but Groves would not hear of this, seeing by a slant in the rain that a breeze was to be expected; and surely enough, the rain presently smote us on the cheek smartly, whereupon Groves ran up our sail, which, to our infinite delight, did presently swell out fairly, careening us so that the oar on t’other side was useless.

      But that which favoured us favoured also our enemies, and shortly after we saw two sails go up to match our one. Then Groves called a council of us and his fellows, and his advice was this: that ere the galley drew nigh enough for our number to be sighted, he and his fellows should bestow themselves away in the stern cabin, and lie there with such arms of knives and spikes as they had brought with them ready to their hands, and that, on Mohand boarding us with his men, we four should retire towards the cabin, when he and his comrades would spring forth and fight every man to the death for freedom. And he held out good promise of a successful issue. “For,” says he, “knowing you four” (meaning us) “are unarmed, ’tis not likely he will have furnished himself with any great force; and as his main purpose is to possess this lady, he will not suffer his men to use their firepieces to the risk of her destruction; therefore,” adds he, “if you have the stomach for your part of this business, which is but to hold the helm as I direct, all must go well. But for the lady, if she hath any fear, we may find a place in the cabin for her.”

      This proposal was accepted by all with gladness, except Moll, who would on no account leave her husband’s side; but had he not been there, I believe she would have been the last aboard to feel fear, or play a cowardly part.

      So without further parley, the fellows crept into the little cabin, each fingering his naked weapon, which made me feel very sick with apprehension of bloodshed. The air of wind freshening, we kept on at a spanking rate for another hour, Groves lying on the deck with his eyes just over the bulwarks and giving orders to Dawson and me, who kept the helm; then the galley, being within a quarter of a mile of us, fired a shot as a signal to us to haul down our sail, and this having no effect, he soon after fires another, which, striking us in the stern, sent great