"Thank G.o.d for His mercies!" she murmured, while tears fell down her cheeks. "It seems almost too great happiness to be true."

In a few minutes she was well enough to be a.s.sisted down to the cabin of the schooner, where she was left to the care of her daughter for a time. Half an hour later she was able to relate her story to Mr.

Beveridge. She was, she said, the wife of an English merchant at Smyrna. They lived a short distance out of the town, and had, since the troubles began, gone but little abroad, for although it was only the Greeks who had been involved in the ma.s.sacre that had taken place there some months before, there was a good deal of hostility upon the part of the lower cla.s.s of the population against all Christians. One evening she had been with her daughter in the garden, her husband being engaged till late at his business in the town. It was just getting dark, and she was about to re-enter the house, when five or six ruffians of the lowest cla.s.s rushed into the garden, seized her and her daughter in spite of their shrieks, threw thick cloths over their heads, and then carried them away. They were taken for some distance, when they stopped, and she heard an animated conversation and the clink of money. Then they were placed in a boat, and presently carried up on to the deck of a ship and taken below.

When their m.u.f.flings were removed they found they were in the hold of a vessel with a large number of Greek captives. She endeavoured in vain to make herself understood by the sailors who came below, and who, she perceived at once, were not Turks. She told them that she was English, and that her husband would pay a large sum if she and her daughter were set on sh.o.r.e unharmed. No attention was paid to her entreaties, but on her persisting she was brutally knocked down, and in a short time a man, who was evidently an officer, came down and forced them both to take off their European dresses and put on others that some of the Greek women were ordered to hand over to them. It was now evident to her that they had been seized by some of the ruffians of the town and sold to the Algerines, who were in no way particular as to the nationality of their slaves, and that they were destined to be sold in the slave-market of either Tunis or Algiers.

A few hours after they were taken on board they heard the anchor run up, and could soon tell by the ripple of the water against the planks that they were under weigh. All hope now left them, and they had pa.s.sed a terrible six days, overcome by despair, and half suffocated by the foul air of the hold. Hope had again sprung up when a gun was fired overhead, and it was soon evident that the vessel was engaged in an encounter with an enemy. At last the firing ceased, then there was a sound of shouting and the clashing of swords on the deck above their heads. Presently the hatchways had been opened and a Greek had come down and told them that the vessel had been captured from the Turks, and that they were free. She fancied that she heard English voices, but until she had reached the deck and saw the faces and uniforms of the sailors, she thought that she must be mistaken. After that she remembered no more until she heard the doctor's voice.

"I am rejoiced indeed that I have been enabled to save you and your daughter from the horrors of slavery," Mr. Beveridge said. "We have had the pleasure of rescuing many hundreds of Greek women and children from the hands of the Turks, but I never expected to find a countrywoman among them. This cabin will be at your disposal, except that we must, I fear, take our meals here. The cabin adjoining will be wholly yours. In the course of a week I hope to land you at Corfu, thence you will be able to write to your husband and arrange either for joining him again at Smyrna, or taking a pa.s.sage for England, which would, I should think in the present state of things, be the wisest course. My purse will be entirely at your disposal. I am the owner of this schooner, which is called the _Misericordia_, and although we fight under the Greek flag, and have come out to a.s.sist them to obtain their independence, we are princ.i.p.ally devoting ourselves to saving the unhappy victims of this war."

The lady, whose name was Mrs. Herbert, expressed her deep grat.i.tude, and Mr. Beveridge at once took possession of Miller's cabin, as the lieutenant would, he had no doubt, remain in charge of the prize. When the capture was made, the schooner was some eighty miles to the east of Rhodes, and after talking the matter over with Miller, Martyn decided to land the Algerines on Caxo, an islet lying some fifty miles to the south-west of Rhodes. Miller and Tarleton were for the present to continue on board the prize. The prisoners, forty-eight in number, were transferred into the schooner. The next evening they arrived off Caxo, where the Algerines were landed in boats. Martyn then went on board the polacca.

"I have been thinking, Miller, that as we seem to have frightened all the Turks into remaining in port for the present, I will leave you and Tarleton on board the polacca, and give you twenty men and let you cruise on your own account, while we take these women and children round to the Ionian Isles. We will shift two of the eighteen-pounders on board this craft. No one will suspect you, and you will have a good chance of picking up some more prizes, while the sight of our white sails sends everything running into port as far off as they can be seen. We can rendezvous here again this day fortnight."

"I should like that very much," Miller said, "and I think it is a capital plan. I must ask Mr. Beveridge to let me have Marco, or I shall have no means of making myself understood either by Turk or Greek."

A fortnight later the schooner returned to the island. She had had rough weather for the last three days of her voyage, but the sky had now cleared again.

"There is the island," Martyn said, as Horace came up at six o'clock in the morning to take charge of the watch, for he had now command of the starboard watch, and Tom Burdett had the port. "There is the island, but there is no sign of the polacca yet. I wonder Miller is not here first. If we had been having calms I should not have been the least surprised at his not turning up, but with this strong southerly wind there is no reason why he should not have been here. Go up to the main-top, Horace, and take a look round."

But Horace could see no sail in sight.

"You are not uneasy about Miller surely," Mr. Beveridge said at breakfast, seeing that Martyn was not in his usual spirits.

"Well, I am rather uneasy, sir. Miller would be more likely to be a day too soon than too late, and with the wind from the south he could have calculated his time here from wherever he happened to be, within an hour or two. The wind has been strong with us, and for aught I know it may have been blowing a gale more to the east. We don't know much about the sailing qualities of the polacca, certainly she was very light in ballast, and if she has been caught off a lee sh.o.r.e in a heavy gale she may not have been able to claw off, especially if she happened to be embayed when it came on. Of course we must give him twenty-four hours more, but if he does not come then we will shape our course north-east and cruise along the coast; as we get eastward we may pick up some fishing craft or small coaster and hear what the weather has been there, possibly even get news of the polacca. If Miller gets here after we have left, he will guess what course we have taken. Very likely he will land a boat and learn that we have been here, and the course we took when we sailed away, and would then be guided by circ.u.mstances. At any rate, if nothing has happened to him, we are sure to meet sooner or later."

"Do just as you think best, Captain Martyn. I most sincerely trust that there are no grounds for your uneasiness. Hitherto everything has gone well with us, and it would be terrible indeed if anything should have happened to our two friends and so many of our brave fellows."

The day pa.s.sed slowly. A look-out was kept in the top, but until the sun went down no sail was seen above the horizon. The crew shared the anxiety of their captain, and gathering in groups, discussed what could have occurred to prevent their consort arriving at the rendezvous.

"I don't believe as the Turks have caught them," one of the sailors said. "You won't never gammon me into taking in such a yarn as that. I don't believe as there is a Turk living would get the weather gauge of Lieutenant Miller. As to tempests, that is different. We don't care for tempests one way or the other on board the schooner, but then she is a craft such as you don't see twice in a v'yage round the world. If they had been in her I shouldn't have felt noways uneasy; but seeing as how they are in a outlandish brig whose ways they don't understand, it may be that if they was caught off a lee sh.o.r.e by a heavy gale, even the first lieutenant with our men at his back couldn't get her out of the mess."

"I said all along," another sailor put in, shaking his head, "as there was bad luck coming. Three days ago I dreamed of a black cat, and everyone as knows anything knows as there ain't nothin' more unlucky to dream about than a black cat."

"Surely, Bill," another said, shaking his head gravely.

"Well, mates, it is my opinion," Tom Burdett said gruffly, "as there is something in dreams, but in nine cases out of ten it is something as has gone afore and not what comes after. I know once when I came back from a v'yage I had written a letter to tell my old woman what time I should arrive. I reckoned to be in to dinner. Well, the coach broke down and I did not get in till nine o'clock. The old woman had made a plum-duff pretty nigh as big as my head, knowing as I was fond of it, and she was in such a taking at my not having been in to eat it at dinner that I sat down and I finished that there pudding cold for supper. Well, I dreamt of about ten million black cats and about as many sharks mixed up together, but if you will believe me nothing came of it; and ever since that I have held to the opinion that when you have a bad dream, what you have got to think about when you wake ain't what it means in the future, but what you have been having for supper.

"Now, I expect if Bill there was to turn his mind back he would remember that the night as he had that dream, he had been filling hisself up with fruit or such like trash afore he turned in. I don't say as nothing has happened to Lieutenant Miller and our mates, but I am c.o.c.ksure as that black cat Bill said he dreamt on hadn't nothing to do with it either way. Why, bless me, in my village there is hundreds of women as thinks of nothing but dreams and tokens. It is no matter what you dream of, they have got a 'terpretation of it, and if the 'terpretation happens to be a bad one they bother their husbands and brothers and sons, as the case may be, not to put to sea, and there is many a good fisherman whose cupboard is bare half the year, through listening to them. I may have my ideas as to whether harm are come to that polacca or not, but if every seaman on board the ship was to dream of a black tom-cat and his wife and family, it wouldn't make not so much as a shade of difference, in my opinion."

Martyn did not wait for daylight, but when the middle watch was relieved sail was made, and the schooner bore away to the north-east.

Land was sighted about four o'clock, and by nightfall they were coasting along at the distance of about a mile. When it became dark they stood on and off the sh.o.r.e, as Martyn wished to examine every inlet and bay as they went on. As soon as it was daylight the schooner proceeded on her way. The sails of several craft were made out seaward during the course of the day, but none of these resembled the canvas of the polacca, and attention was concentrated upon the sh.o.r.e, every rock being closely scanned with gla.s.ses, and a sharp look-out kept for signals of any kind.

In the evening a small fishing-boat was overhauled as it made its way into a village. The fishermen were interrogated by Zaimes, who understood a little Turkish. They had seen nothing of any craft answering to a description of the polacca. Interrogated about the weather, they replied that the storm four days before had been an exceptionally severe one, coming on very suddenly and blowing with tremendous force for some hours.

The next morning they were at the mouth of the Gulf of Adalia.

"If Miller has gone to grief anywhere," Martyn said to Horace, "it is as likely as not to be somewhere in this bay. He might very well have been cruising about in here to pick up anything coming out of Adalia, which is the princ.i.p.al port along this part of the coast. It is a large bay, you see, and if he happened to be well up it when he was caught in that sudden gale it is probable enough that he would not be able to beat out in that craft. I see on the map there are three or four small towns between this Cape and Adalia. I don't want to show ourselves inside the cape, for the probability is the schooner would be recognized directly. What I think will be the best plan would be for you and Zaimes to take one of the boats and coast along close in to the cape. There is a place called Grambusa a mile or two around the corner, and another place called Yanar a little farther on. I want you either to board a fishing-boat and find out whether they have news of a wreck between this and Adalia, or have heard of any Greek or European prisoners being brought there from farther east. If you can't succeed in getting hold of a fishing-boat, Zaimes might land and try to pick up the news at some cottage in the outskirts of the village.

There are Greeks in all these sea-side villages, for most of the fishing is in their hands, and though in the towns there were ma.s.sacres I don't suppose they would be disturbed in quiet villages where they had been settled for generations."

Zaimes was summoned, and agreed at once to land, as both Martyn and Horace were of opinion that there was more probability of their getting trustworthy information that way than from fishermen, who would be scared at finding their boat suddenly overhauled.

Accordingly, taking a gig with six men Horace and Zaimes started for the sh.o.r.e, while the schooner turned her head west.

"I shall cruise backward and forward," Martyn said. "I sha'n't go more than four miles from the cape; so when you come out again you will only have to lie on your oars till I come back for you."

They rowed direct to sh.o.r.e, crept along close to it till they saw the village half a mile ahead, and then rowed in and landed Zaimes. He was absent an hour, and his walk a.s.sured Horace that he had bad news even before he reached the side of the boat.

"I am afraid you have bad news, Zaimes."

Zaimes shook his head. "Very bad; it could hardly be worse. There are several Christians in the village, and I learned from them that four days ago a brig that was caught in the storm was driven ash.o.r.e close to Adalia. It was found that she was a Turkish vessel which had been captured by pirates. The people would have torn them to pieces, but the pasha, who had come down to the sh.o.r.e with a body of troops to try and save those on board the ship when she was seen to be driving ash.o.r.e, protected them from the mob and lodged them in prison. They say that he has sent off to Smyrna, where the governor of Anatolia resides, to ask for instructions, and it is expected that orders will come for their execution in a day or two."

"Stretch to your oars, men," Horace said. "The others have been wrecked and captured by the Turks, and the sooner we are on board with the news the better."

The men bent to their oars and made the boat fly through the water, and when they rounded Cape Khelidonia they saw the schooner a quarter of a mile away in the act of going about. They were seen almost as soon as they caught sight of her, and she remained thrown up in the wind until they got alongside. Martyn and Mr. Beveridge were both on deck, and as soon as Zaimes had told his story they went down into the cabin for a consultation.

"What on earth is to be done?" Martyn said; "Adalia is a large town.

Zaimes says there are troops there, likely enough a whole regiment. It would be hopeless to try to attack it with thirty men. The only thing I can see at present would be for us to sail right in, anchor off the town, and threaten to bombard it with red-hot shot if they don't give up the prisoners. The objection is that they are likely to have some batteries there, and in that case we might get the worst of it.

Besides, it is likely enough that they might hang Miller and the rest of them at the first shot we fired."

"No, that is not to be thought of," Mr. Beveridge said. "It seems to me that we might anchor within sight of the place, send a boat ash.o.r.e with a white flag, and offer to pay any ransom they might fix for the prisoners. I would rather pay ten thousand pounds than that harm should come to them. What do you think, Horace?"

"If we could have got at the pasha before he sent off to Smyrna that might have done, father; but having once referred the case to Smyrna, I am afraid he might consider it too risky to let them go. But we might try that if everything else fails."

"But what else is there, Horace?"

"Well, I should say, father, the best thing would be to land Zaimes and myself again. He has already made some acquaintances in the village here, and no doubt they could rig us both up in dresses like their own. Then we could go boldly on to Adalia, find out exactly how things stand, what sort of a place they are imprisoned in, how strong is the guard, and how close the barrack of the troops is to the prison. I should suggest that you sail away west, so that if, as it is likely enough, the schooner has been noticed by any of the peasants in the villages scattered about among the hills and word sent to Adalia, the report may also go that it has sailed right away. Then you should capture a small Turkish craft; a large fishing-boat would do. Leave ten men on board the schooner, and sail in the prize nearly up to Adalia. If you anchor, say a couple of miles this side of the town, and hoist a little flag, say a red flag over a white, to your mast-head we should recognize you and come down to the beach.

"If it is in the daytime you will make us out with your gla.s.ses easily enough, and send a boat ash.o.r.e for us. If it is nighttime we will empty out a little powder, moisten it, and flash it off; then you can send ash.o.r.e for us. I should order the schooner to come every night, keeping three or four miles off sh.o.r.e, sailing up nearly to Adalia, and then returning so as to be round the cape again before daylight.

In that way we could communicate with her and go on board again when we liked. Till we examine the place there is no saying whether there is a possibility of rescue or not. If we find that there is no possibility of anything being done in that direction we can embark on board the schooner again, and carry out the plan you suggested: anchor off Adalia, and send in to offer a ransom, with the alternative that if it is not accepted we will bombard the place about their ears. In that way, you see, we shall anyhow lose nothing by this expedition of Zaimes and myself ash.o.r.e."

"I think your plan is an excellent one, Horace," Martyn said, and Mr.

Beveridge equally approved of it.

"I don't think there will be any great danger about it, Martyn. There seems no reason why any suspicion should fall upon him and Zaimes if they are dressed in the same way as the Greeks in these villages."

"No, I don't see why there should. Of course they will only speak with other Greeks. I certainly think the plan of our getting hold of a small native craft and anchoring near the town is a capital one. It will save a great deal of time, for it is somewhere about fifty miles from the cape to the town, and it would, in fact, save a whole day, as, if they come off to us in the evening we could do what there is to do that night, whereas, if they had to walk all the way down the coast to the cape and come on board there it would be too late to do anything that night, and we should have to wait until the next."

Zaimes was called in, and eagerly embraced the proposal when it was explained to him. He was pa.s.sionately fond of his brother, from whom he had never been separated, and was ready to dare anything to attempt his rescue. It was agreed they had better wait till dark before they landed. Accordingly the schooner sailed west for some hours and did not return to the cape until after darkness had fallen. Then Zaimes and Horace were landed, and as soon as the boat returned the schooner again sailed away. Before leaving the ship Horace had dressed himself as a Greek, and on landing they walked to the village.

"You had best remain outside for a few minutes, Mr. Horace," Zaimes said, "while I see the man I conversed with this morning. I told him then that my brother was on board the polacca that was wrecked, and that I should endeavour to get the ear of some person of importance at Adalia. He said that he was sure that I could do nothing, but anything he could do to help me he would, for his people came years ago from Naxos, which, as you know, is our native place. I will just go in first to see if he is alone and to tell him that I have a friend with me. As soon as I see that he is in the same mood I will call you in."

In three or four minutes the door of the cottage opened again and Horace was called in.

"This is the young friend who accompanies me," Zaimes said to the man.

"He is not a relation, but he has been with my brother ever since he was born, and is willing to join me in the effort to save him."

"It is quite hopeless," the peasant said. "You are only risking your lives. Still, that is your business. You are ready, you say, to buy of me two suits of our clothes. I have one suit belonging to my son, who is at present away in a coasting ship, and I have a suit of my own that I can let you have."