In Greek Waters Part 47

"It is marvellously like the schooner," Horace said. "I should almost have sworn that it was her."

"It is the schooner, lad. How she got there, and what she is doing, I don't know, but it is her."

"What is it?" Ahmed asked. "What is there curious in that brig that you are so interested in her?"

"We both think it is our schooner, Ahmed; the one in which we took your father and mother from Athens in."

"That!" Ahmed exclaimed incredulously; "why, my sisters were always saying what a beautiful vessel it was, with snow-white sails."

"So she had, Ahmed; but if it is the schooner she is disguised altogether. They have taken down her top-masts and put those stumpy spars in instead; they have put up yards and turned her into a brig; they have got sails from somewhere and slackened all her ropes, and made her look dirty and untidy; still we both think that it is her.

Please tell the boatmen to cross to the vessel and row alongside."

Ahmed gave the order, and as the caique shot away from the sh.o.r.e said: "But how could it be your s.h.i.+p? Do you think that she has been captured? If not, she could not have ventured up here."

"She has not been captured," Horace said confidently, "and if she had been her captors would not have taken the trouble to spoil her appearance. If that is the schooner they have come up to make inquiries about us, and to try to rescue us if possible."

It was fully two miles across, and as they approached the brig the doctor and Horace became more and more convinced that they were not mistaken.

"Please tell the men to pull in behind her," Horace said, "so that we can see her better. There can be no mistake about her if we can catch a sight of her fore and aft."

When they fell into the brig's wake they were some three hundred yards astern of her, and the last vestige of doubt disappeared as they saw her great breadth and fine run.

"That is my father's craft, Ahmed, I could swear to her now. Will you tell the men to row up alongside."

There were only four or five men visible on deck in the ordinary dress of Turkish sailors. As the caique came alongside a man put his head over the rail and asked in Turkish "what they wanted?"

"We want to come on board," Ahmed said; "we have business with the captain."

"I am the captain," the man said; "are you one of the port officers?"

"Drop astern to the chains," Ahmed said to the boatmen, who were hanging on by a boat-hook. They let the caique fall aft her own length, and then, seizing the shrouds, the doctor and Horace sprang up on to the chains and then leapt on board, Ahmed following them more slowly. There was no doubt that it was the schooner, though her decks were covered with dirt and litter, and the paint of her bulwarks discoloured as if they had been daubed with mud which had been allowed to dry. The sailors looked up as if in surprise at the sudden appearance of the strangers on their deck. Horace glanced at them. He knew none of their faces.

"Well, sir," the captain said, coming up, "may I again ask what you want with us?"

"You talk to him, Ahmed," Horace said in Greek. "We will run below;"

and at a bound he was at the top of the companion and sprang down into the cabin. "Father," he shouted, "are you here?"

The door of the main cabin opened, and a Turk with a flowing white beard made his appearance.

"My dear father, is it you?"

"Why, Horace, Horace, my dear boy, where do you come from, what miracle is this?" And in a moment they were clasped in each other's arms. A moment later a tall Nubian rushed out and seized Horace's hand.

"Why, Martyn, you don't mean to say it is you in this disguise?"

"It is indeed, Horace. I am delighted to see you, lad; and you too, doctor. I had never thought to clap eyes on you again;" and he shook hands heartily with Macfarlane, as also did Mr. Beveridge.

"I seem to be in a dream," the latter said; "how do you come here, what has happened?"

"I may say the same, father; but first, where are Miller, Tarleton, and the crew?"

"They are all down in the hold," Martyn said; "they are all in hiding."

"I have a friend on deck, father; he is the son of one of the Turks we saved at Athens. He and his friends saved our lives, and have been concealing us since they got us away. I expect he is having some difficulty with the man who calls himself captain."

"Come up with me then, Horace, and we will fetch him down; and I will tell Iskos that it is all right."

As soon as they reached the deck Mr. Beveridge explained to the supposed captain that these were the friends he had come to find, and that all was well.

Martyn had also come up. "What had we better do now, Martyn?"

Martyn looked up at the sails, and at the water, "Fortunately the wind is dying out fast," he said. "I don't think we are making way against the current now, and we shall certainly not do so long. Hold on a few minutes longer, Iskos, and then anchor. It will seem as if we could not get up against the stream to the other s.h.i.+pping. If you see a boat coming off, let us know. They will probably be sending off to look at our papers; but perhaps they may not trouble about it till we get up to the regular anchorage. Now, Mr. Beveridge, we will go down below and gladden their hearts there."

The main-deck was filled with casks, bales, and merchandise of all sorts, and the hatchways of the hold covered with sacks of flour.

Macfarlane joined them, and aided Martyn and Horace in removing the sacks. Horace saw as he did so that what appeared a solid pile was really hollow, and that the hatchway was only partially closed so as to allow a certain amount of air to pa.s.s down below. The bags were but partly removed when there was a rush from below, Miller and Tarleton with their cutla.s.ses in hand, followed by the sailors with boarding-pikes dashed through the opening. They paused in astonishment upon seeing only Martyn, Mr. Beveridge, and three Turkish gentlemen, but as they recognized Horace and the doctor, the officers threw down their swords and with a shout of joy seized them by the hand. The sailors close behind them broke into a cheer which swelled into a roar as the men below gathered the news that their two officers had returned.

"The men can come up between decks, Miller," Martyn said. "Let them have a stiff ration of grog all round. Boatswain, see that the sacks are piled again as before, leaving two or three out of their place to allow the men to go down again if necessary. If the word is pa.s.sed that a boat is coming off, let them hurry back again and replace the sacks carefully after them as they go down."

The sailors continued pouring up through the hatchway, and behind them came the two Greeks, whose joy at seeing Horace was excessive.

"Now," Mr. Beveridge said, "let us adjourn to the cabin and hear all about this wonderful story."

On entering the main cabin Horace found that its appearance, like that of the rest of the s.h.i.+p, had been completely altered, all the handsome fittings had been removed, and the whole of the woodwork painted with what he thought must have been a mixture of white paint and mud, so dirty and dingy did it appear.

"Now, father, in the first place I must properly introduce my friend Ahmed to you all. He is the son of Osman Bey, who was one of the princ.i.p.al Turks of the party we took to Tenedos, as no doubt you remember; it is to him and his father, aided by Fazli Bey, and the bimbas.h.i.+ who was in command of the troops, and some of the soldiers, that we owe our lives."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DOCTOR TELLS THE STORY]

This was said in Greek, and while Mr. Beveridge was expressing his grat.i.tude to Ahmed, Horace repeated the same in English to the three officers, who warmly shook hands with the young Turk. Marco and his brother placed refreshments of all kinds on the table.

Ahmed partook of them sparingly, and then said to Horace: "Of course you will not be returning with me now. I think I had better be going on, it will be dark before I have done my business and get back again; and besides, the boatmen will be wondering at my long stay here."

"I am afraid your father will think us horribly ungrateful if we go off without thanking him and your mother for all their kindness to us," Horace said; "but of course we must be getting out of this as soon as we can."

"My father and mother will be delighted to hear that you have so suddenly and unexpectedly got out of your difficulties," Ahmed said, "and that in a manner from which no suspicion can possibly arise to us. What we have done has been but a small return for the service you rendered us."

Mr. Beveridge added his warmest thanks to those of Horace, and Ahmed then went up with the others on to the deck and took his place in the caique; Horace making a present of a small gold piece to each of the boatmen. Ahmed said good-bye to him and the doctor in Turkish, expressing the hope that when they got back to Cyprus they would write to him, a message that Iskos afterwards translated to Horace. As soon as he had rowed away the rest of them returned to the cabin.

"And now for the story," Mr. Beveridge said as they took their places round the table.

"The doctor shall tell it," Horace said. "He has had no chance of talking for the last fortnight, and it is only fair he should have his turn now."

The doctor accordingly, in his slow and deliberate way, related the whole story of their adventures from the time they landed from the schooner until their return on board, a narration which lasted nearly two hours.

Then Martyn related what had happened on board since. "You know," he said, "that directly we heard the firing on sh.o.r.e and saw the boat rowing off we began to get ready to send a strong party off. You can imagine how horrified we were when, on the boat coming alongside, we found you were both missing. The beggars fired away at us as we rowed ash.o.r.e, but they bolted before we reached it, and when we made a rush into the village, it was empty. We could find no one to ask questions of, for, as we found afterwards, they had all made off while the brigands were firing at us. However, as there were no signs of you it was evident the only thing to do was to follow the ruffians, and off we set. We chased them four miles, but they scattered directly they left the village and we only came up with two of them. Unfortunately they showed fight, and the sailors cut them down before we could come up.

"After searching about for some time we thought the best plan was to go back to the village. There we quartered ourselves among the houses, and, as you have been telling us, the man came with a letter. We noticed how you had worded it and had underscored the names, and we saw the fellows did not know that you were the son of the owner, so your father pretended to hang back for a bit. As soon as the man had gone off with the message we thought that it was all right, and everyone was in the highest spirits. Of course there was nothing to do next day, but the following morning Mr. Beveridge and Miller went off with thirty men, as the time named for giving you up was one o'clock.