A feeling of despair impelled him to seize the negro by the arm as he was about to ascend the ladder and stop him.
Peter, he said, I think you have a friendly feeling towards me, because youve called me massa more than once, though you have no occasion to do so.
Dats cause Im fond o you. I always was fond o a nice smood young babby face, an I tooked a fancy to you de moment I see you knock Joe Spinks into de lee scuppers.
Sohe was an Englishman that I treated so badly, eh?
Yes, massa, ony you didnt treat him bad nuff. But you obsarve dat I ony calls you massa wen wes alone an friendly like. Wen wes in public I calls you sar an speak gruff an shove you into black holes.
And why do you act so, Peter?
Cause, dont you see, Is a hyperkrite. I tole you dat before.
Well, I can guess what you mean. You dont want to appear too friendly? Just so. Well, now, I have got nobody to take my part here, so as you are a free man I wish you would keep an eye on me when we go ashore, and see where they send me, and speak a word for me when it is in your power. You see, theyll give me up for drowned at home and never find out that Im here.
A free man! repeated the negro, with an expansion of his mouth that is indescribable. You tink Is a free man! but Is a slabe, same as yourself, ony de diffrence am dat deres nobody to ransum me, so dey dont boder deir heads bout me slong as I do my work. If I dont do my work Im whacked; if I rebel and kick up a shindy Im whacked wuss; if I tries to run away Im whacked till Im dead. Das all. But Is not free. No, no not at all! Howsever Is free-an-easy, an dat make de pirits fond o me, which goes a long way, for deres nuffin like lub!
Foster heartily agreed with the latter sentiment and added
Well, now, Peter, I will say no more, for as you profess to be fond of me, and as I can truly say the same in regard to you, we may be sure that each will help the other if he gets the chance. But, tell me, are you really one of the crew of this pirate vessel?
No, massa, only for dis viage. I blongs to a old sinner called Hassan, what libs in de country, not far from de town. He not a bad feller, but hes obsnitoh! as obsnit as a deaf an dumb mule. If you want im to go one way just tell him to go toder wayan youve got im.
At that moment the captains voice was heard shouting down the hatchway, demanding to know what detained the negro and his prisoners. He spoke in that jumble of languages in use at that time among the Mediterranean nations called Lingua Franca, for the negro did not understand Arabic.
Comin, captain, comin, cried the negro, in his own peculiar Englishwhich was, indeed, his mother tongue, for he had been born in the United States of America. Now, den, sar, (to Foster), wen you goin to move you stumps? Up wid you!
Peter emphasised his orders with a real kick, which expedited his prisoners ascent, and, at the same time, justified the negros claim to be a thorough-paced hyperkrite!
Wheres the other one? demanded the captain angrily.
Escaped, captain! answered Peter.
How? You must have helped him, cried the captain, drawing his ever-ready sword and pointing it at the breast of the negro, who fell upon his knees, clasped his great hands, and rolled his eyes in an apparent agony of terror.
Dont, captain. I isnt wuth killin, an wen Is gone, whod cook for you like me? De man escaped by jumpin out ob his body. Hes gone dead!
Fool! muttered the pirate, returning his sword to its sheath, bind that prisoner, and have him and the others ready to go on shore directly.
In a few seconds all the prisoners were ranged between the cabin hatchway and the mast. The hands of most of the men were loosely tied, to prevent trouble in case desperation should impel any of them to assault their captors, but the old Dane and the women were left unfettered.
And now George Foster beheld, for the first time, the celebrated city, which was, at that period, the terror of the merchant vessels of all nations that had dealings with the Mediterranean shores. A small pier and breakwater enclosed a harbour which was crowded with boats and shipping. From this harbour the town rose abruptly on the side of a steep hill, and was surrounded by walls of great strength, which bristled with cannon. The houses were small and square-looking, and in the midst, here and there, clusters of date-palms told of the almost tropical character of the climate, while numerous domes, minarets, and crescents told of the Moor and the religion of Mohammed.
But religion in its true sense had little footing in that piratical city, which subsisted on robbery and violence, while cruelty and injustice of the grossest kind were rampant. Whatever Islamism may have taught them, it did not produce men or women who held the golden rule to be a virtue, and certainly few practised it. Yet we would not be understood to mean that there were none who did so. As there were Christians in days of old, even in Caesars household, so there existed men and women who were distinguished by the Christian graces, even in the Pirate City. Even there God had not left Himself without a witness.
As the vessel slowly entered the harbour under a very light breeze, she was boarded by several stately officers in the picturesque costumeturbans, red leathern boots, etceterapeculiar to the country. After speaking a few minutes with the captain, one of the officers politely addressed the old Dane and his family through an interpreter; but as they spoke in subdued tones Foster could not make out what was said. Soon he was interrupted by a harsh order from an unknown Moor in an unknown tongue.
An angry order invariably raised in our hero the spirit of rebellion. He flushed and turned a fierce look on the Moor, but that haughty and grave individual was accustomed to such looks. He merely repeated his order in a quiet voice, at the same time translating it by pointing to the boat alongside. Foster felt that discretion was the better part of valour, all the more that there stood at the Moors back five or six powerful Arabs, who seemed quite ready to enforce his instructions.
The poor middy glanced round to see if his only friend, Peter the Great, was visible, but he was not; so, with a flushed countenance at thus being compelled to put his pride in his pocket, he jumped into the boat, not caring very much whether he should break his neck by doing so with tied hands, or fall into the sea and end his life in a sharks maw!
In a few minutes he was landed on the mole or pier, and made to join a band of captives, apparently from many nations, who already stood waiting there.
Immediately afterwards the band was ordered to move on, and as they marched through the great gateway in the massive walls Foster felt as if he were entering the portals of Dantes Inferno, and had left all hope behind. But his feelings misled him. Hope, thank God! is not easily extinguished in the human breast. As he tramped along the narrow and winding streets, which seemed to him an absolute labyrinth, he began to take interest in the curious sights and sounds that greeted him on every side, and his mind was thus a little taken off himself.
And there was indeed much there to interest a youth who had never seen Eastern manners or customs before. Narrow and steep though the streets werein some cases so steep that they formed flights of what may be styled broad and shallow stairsthey were crowded with bronzed men in varied Eastern costume; Moors in fez and gay vest and red morocco slippers; Turks with turban and pipe; Cabyles from the mountains; Arabs from the plains; water-carriers with jar on shoulder; Jews in sombre robes; Jewesses with rich shawls and silk kerchiefs as headgear; donkeys with panniers that almost blocked the way; camels, and veiled women, and many other strange sights that our hero had up to that time only seen in picture-books.