Chapter VI: Part 6

"So am I, Tom," said Charley with the utmost heartiness. "I am as tired of it as I am of the eternal dates and coffee, coffee and dates, on which these blessed Arab beggars live, and which everybody makes a point of offering to one, if a chap goes ashore for a minute; while, on board, we've nothing now to do but to check off the freight as it comes alongside before it's lowered in the hold, and look out at the unchanging picture around us, which is so familiar that I believe I could paint it with my eyes shut if I were an artist. Talk of the beauty of Beyrout, indeed! To my taste, it's the most monotonous hole I was ever in in my life, and I hate it!"

And yet, in spite of Charley Onslow's peevish criticism, the scene around him and his companion was charming enough.

The _Muscadine_ was anchored out in the roads, close to the jutting promontory on which the lazaretto buildings were lately erected, that stretched out like an arm into the harbour; and the view from her deck presented a beautiful panorama of the semi-European, semi-Oriental town, nestling on the very edge of the blue waters of the Mediterranean, and surrounded by gently-undulating hills, that were terraced with symmetrical rows of trim olive-trees and vineyards, rising tier upon tier, the one above the other; amidst which, occasionally peeped out slily the white cupola of some suburban villa belonging to one of the wealthy merchants of the port, or the minaret of a Moslem mosque, standing out conspicuously against the shrubbery of foliage formed of different tints of green, from the palest emerald shade to the deepest indigo, that culminated finally in the cedar-crowned heights of the mountains of Lebanon in the purple distance.

It was not a quiet scene either, as might have been imagined from the idle ennui of both the young sailors, whom it seemed to have well-nigh bored to death. On the contrary, to an unprejudiced looker-on it was quite the reverse of being inactive.

In the foreground the harbour was lively enough, with boats and caravels, and other Turkish craft of all sizes and shapes, darting here and there like great white-winged dragon-flies, as they were wafted swiftly one moment by some passing whiff of air, or lying still on the surface of the sea as the wind fell and they were temporarily becalmed, until another gust came from the hills to rouse them out of their noontide sluggishness.

Amongst them, too, were ships' boats belonging to the different vessels, anchored, like the _Muscadine_, out in the roads, being pulled to and from the shore, anon laden with merchandise, anon returning for more; while, of course, the dingy black smoke and steady paddle-beat of the inevitable steamer, that marks the progress of Western civilisation in the East, made themselves seen and heard, to complete the picture and make the contrast the more striking.

"Tom," said Charley presently, after the two had remained silent for some time, still standing in the shade of the awning aft, that protected them from the burning heat of the sun, which was at its most potent point, it being just mid-day.

"Yes," said the other grumpily, as if disinclined even for conversation.

"It has just gone eight bells."

"Can't I hear as well as you, Charley? What's the use of bothering a fellow? Do leave me alone."

"I only wanted to say, Tom, that the skipper said we might go ashore this afternoon if we liked, as soon as the second mate came on board; and there he is coming off in the jolly-boat now."

"I don't care whether Tompkins comes off or not," replied Tom Aldridge in the same peevish tone as he had spoken at first. "What's the good of going ashore?"

"Oh, lots of good," said Charley Onslow more cheerily. "Better than stopping here cooped-up like a fowl and being grilled in the sun."

"Well, I can't see the difference between getting roasted ashore and roasted on board, for my part," retorted Tom. "It's six of one and half-a-dozen of the other."

"You lazy duffer!" said Charley laughing; "you are incorrigible. But do come along with me, Tom. We haven't landed now for two days, and I can't stand the _Muscadine_ any longer."

"I suppose you'll have your way, as you always do," grumbled the other, turning away at last from his listless contemplation of the prospect with which he had owned himself so disgusted. "I don't know how it is, Charley, but you seem to manage me and everybody here just as you like; you can come round the skipper even, when you set your mind to it, and that is what no one else can do!"

"You forget Mr Tompkins."

"I don't count him at all," said Tom Aldridge indignantly. "He's a sneak, and gets his way by wheedling and shoe-scraping! But you, Charley, go to work in quite a different fashion. Why, I'm hanged if you don't cheek a fellow when you want to get something out of him. It's your Irish impudence that does it, my boy, I expect."

"Sure, an' it's a way we have in the ould counthry," said Charley, putting on the brogue so easily that it seemed natural to him--which indeed it was, as he was born not twenty miles from Cork, in the neighbourhood of which is situated the far-famed "Blarney stone," that is supposed to endow those who kiss it with the "gift of the gab;" and Charley must have "osculated it," as a Yankee would say, to some purpose.

"Be jabers, thin, ye spalpeen," laughed Tom--who had got out of his grumpy state quickly enough; for his disposition was almost as light-hearted as that of his friend, and it was only the heat and the confinement on board ship when in harbour that had previously oppressed his spirits--"let us look smart, and be off. Here's that fellow Tompkins just coming up the side, and I don't want any more of his company than I can help! Tell him we're going by the captain's permission, Charley. I don't want to say a word to him after that row this morning. You are still on speaking terms with him, and I'm not. And while you are settling matters with the old sneak, I'll get the dinghy ready, and fetch up the bottle of brandy I promised that jolly old Turk at the coffee-shop."

"You'd better water it a bit, Tom," said Charley, as the other was diving down the companion-stairs. "It's awfully strong; and you know Mohammedans are not accustomed to it."

"Not a drop of it, my boy," replied he, disappearing for a moment from view, and his voice receding in the distance. "I promised the old infidel that he should have the real stuff, and I'll let him see that a giaour can keep his word."

In a second or two he came up again, the bottle, however, concealed in the pocket of his reefer of light blue serge. And hauling in the painter of the boat, which was floating astern, while Charley was still confabulating with the second officer, who had come on board in the meantime, he sat himself down in her, and waited patiently till his chum had done with the obnoxious Mr Tompkins, who seemed to have a good deal to say, and that of a not very pleasant character. "Bother the chap!" said Charley, when he was at length released, and, shinning down a rope, sat down in the stern-sheets of the dinghy, as Tom Aldridge took up the sculls and shoved off from the ship. "He's got as much to say as Noah's great-grandmother. And the gist of it all, fault-finding, of course."

"What can you expect from a pig, eh?" said Tom, philosophically, when the boat was well clear of the _Muscadine_, setting to work leisurely and pulling to shore, while Charley reclined at his ease on the cushions which he had taken the trouble to fix up for himself, and--did nothing, as usual.

It was the general sort of "division of labour" amongst them.

However, they were fast friends, and, as Tom didn't complain, nobody else has any right to find fault.

"A grunt, I suppose," replied Charley, in answer to Tom's conundrum. "At least, from a Welsh pig, like Tompkins. An Irish one, bedad! would have better manners."

"Bravo, Charley!" exclaimed Tom, bursting out into a laugh in which his companion as heartily joined. "You stick to your country, at all events, which is more than can be said for our leek-eating friend. He always wishes to deny that he belongs to the land of the Cymri and hails from Swansea, as he does. The sneak! I'm sure a decent Welshman would be ashamed to own him. But, don't let us worry ourselves any longer about Tompkins; it's bad enough to have him with us on board, without lugging him ashore, too; hang him!"

"Ay, ay, so say I," sang out Charley, in the best accord.

And then, after a few more vigorous strokes from the sculls, propelled by Tom's muscular arms, the bow of the dinghy stranded on the sandy shore, and the two boys landed in the highest glee, without a trace of the ill-humour and despondency in which they had been apparently plunged not an hour or so before.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER TWO.

THE COFFEE-SHOP IN BEYROUT.

Pushing past the crowds of busy and idle people, Greeks, Turks, Armenians, Maronites, Arabs, Frenchmen, and a few English, like themselves, who thronged the narrow streets, which were lined on either side with stores built in the American fashion for the disposal of European goods; narrow Eastern shops, and bazaars and caravanserais, hung with carpets, and displaying grapes and figs, and all sorts of fruit in true Oriental style; they made their way towards a Turkish coffee-house that was situated not far from the waterside, and much patronised by those who, like themselves, had to do with ships and seafaring concerns--although, they did not arrive very quickly at their destination, for the time for the noonday halt having passed by, the usual caravans from Damascus and the interior were coming in, long trains of camels, asses, and mules, laden with coffee, raw silk, rhubarb, untanned leather, figs, aromatic gums, and all the varied merchandise that comes through Arabia and Persia to the ports of the Levant; and, consequently, the main thoroughfares were so blocked with these commercial pilgrims from the desert, that it was as much as Tom and Charley could do to get along.

They did it at length, however, by dint of shoving themselves unceremoniously through the lookers-on who congregated to see the caravans pass, taking no notice of the many invocations to Allah to curse them, as "dogs of Christians," who profaned the sacred presence of the followers of Islam by breathing the same air as themselves; finally reaching the courtyard of Mohammed's khan, after much jostling and struggling and good-natured expostulation and repartee, enlivened with many a hearty laugh as some donkey driver came to grief with his load, or when a venerable Arab sheikh on a tall dromedary sputtered with rage at finding the way impassable and his dignity hurt.

The Turk who kept the khan, or coffee-house, was a middle-aged man, who had seen a good deal of all sorts of life in knocking about the world, and was so cosmopolitan in his character that he was almost denationalised. He had a round, good-humoured face, that told as plainly as face could tell that he was no ascetic, or rigid Mussulman bound to the edicts of the Koran, but one who liked good living as well as most folk.

Tom's description of him hit him off exactly; he was decidedly "a jolly old Turk"--nothing more nor less.

On seeing the boys come in, he at once made places for them beside him on the divan, where he sat on a pile of cushions smoking a long chibouque, with a coffee-cup beside him on a little tray, that also contained sweetmeats, from which he took an occasional sip in the intervals, when he removed the stem of his pipe from his lips and emitted a vast volume of tobacco-smoke in one long puff.

"Aha, my young capitan!" said he to Tom Aldridge, when they had seated themselves, cross-legged, as he was, and accepted the chibouques brought to them immediately by an Arab boy, "you ver long time coming to see me. I tinks I nevare see yous no more!"

He spoke broken English, but with his genial manner and broad smile of welcome made himself readily understood.

"I couldn't come before," said Tom. "But I didn't forget you all the same, for I've brought what I promised, the bottle of--"

"Hush-h!" interrupted old Mohammed, with a warning gesture, placing his hand before Tom's mouth. "De med-i-seen for my leg? Ah, yase, I recollects. I am ver mooch oblige. Tanks. You'll have some cafe?"

"No, thank you," replied Tom. "I and my friend here are sick of coffee; let us have some sherbet instead, although we don't want anything. We only came to have a chat with you and a smoke, that's all."

"That is all raite, my frens. I don't like mooch coffees myselfs. De med-i-seen is mooch bettaires," said Mohammed, patting his stomach and grinning again, as he winked knowingly at Tom, in a manner that would have shocked a true believer, while he shouted out an order to the Arab boy. "But, de sheerbeet is goot for de leetle boys, O yase."

"Cunning old rogue," said Charley, aside to Tom. "He wants all the brandy for himself, although he wouldn't like his fellow-religionists to know that he drank it. I suppose if we wished for some, we would have to ask for a drop of the med-i-seen."

"Oh, he's not a bad sort," replied Tom. "He has offered me wine many a time, and he's a generous old chap, I should think. Well, Mohammed," he continued, aloud, "and how's business?"

"Ver bad, ver bad inteet," said that worthy. "I nevare did no worse in my loife. I shall have to shoot up de shop soon."

"That's a good one!" exclaimed Tom. "You can tell that to the marines. I bet you've got a snug little pile of piastres stowed away somewhere."

"P'raps I haive," said the old Turk, nodding his head as he smiled complacently; "and if you young shentlemens should be vat you call `ard oop,' I could lend you some moneys. But don't talk so loud," he added cautiously, casting a glance at a group of Greek sailors who were gabbling away near them, and scanning Tom and Charley curiously, "I don't like de look of dose fellows dere, and dey might hear us talk if dey leesten, and vill remembers."

"What of that?" asked Charley; "I don't suppose they would understand us."

"Aha, so you tink," said Mohammed warily. "But dose Grecs are ver knowing and oop to every ting. Dey are bad, ver bad, every one."

As he spoke two of the Greeks separated themselves from the group, and came over to where they were sitting, as if sent for the purpose.

"I understand," said one, who acted as spokesman, and addressed them in the most perfect English, "that your captain is in want of hands?"

The question was pertinent enough, as more than half the crew were laid up in the Beyrout hospital, or lazaretto, with a sort of malarial fever, and the _Muscadine_ was only waiting for their recovery, or until enough hands could be shipped, to enable her to pursue her voyage to her next port, Smyrna, where she was to complete her cargo, and then sail for England.

The boys of course knew this well enough, but they did not see it was any business of the Greeks, and after Mohammed's hint as to their character they resented the inquiry as a piece of impudence.

"How do you know which is our ship?" said Charley, in Irish fashion asking another question, in lieu of answering the one addressed to him; "and if you do, whether she wants hands or not?"

He spoke rather uncivilly, but the man replied to him with studied politeness.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said he, "but the _Muscadine_ is the only English ship in the harbour, and any one who has travelled like myself could easily tell the nationality of yourself and your friend. I am aware, also, that several of your crew are laid up in hospital."

"And supposing such is the case," said Tom Aldridge, taking up the cudgels, "what then?"

"Only, sir," replied the man, even more obsequiously than before, "I and several others here, who are in want of a ship, would be glad to sign articles with you."

"The others you mention are Greeks like yourself, I suppose?" inquired Tom, still brusquely, as if he did not care whether he offended his interlocutor or not.

"Yes, sir," said the man, "but my countrymen are generally reckoned to make good sailors, and ship in all sorts of vessels to all parts of the world."

"That may be," answered Tom, who hardly knew what to say, "but it is no concern of mine. You had better speak to Captain Harding about the matter; we can't engage you."

"No?" said the man with a half sneer, half smile on his face, and he seemed about to say something nasty; but he altered his mind before he uttered the words, and completed his sentence with another civil inquiry, at which neither Tom nor Charley could take offence. "And, where can I and my friends see the captain, sir?"

"On board, any time before ten in the morning or after sunset in the evening," said Tom curtly.

He didn't like the man, but he was at a loss how he could put him off in any other way.

"Thank you, sir, I'm deeply obliged for your condescension," said the Greek, who then regained his comrades, and the group presently walked out of the khan.

"Bismillah!" ejaculated Mohammed as soon as the Greeks had disappeared. "Can I believe my eyes? That scoundrel has got the impudence of Sheitan, and must be in league with the spirits of Eblis."

"Who is he? do you know him?" eagerly asked Tom and Charley almost in one breath of the Turk, who exhibited all the appearance of stupefied astonishment.

"Mashallah! do I know him?" gasped out Mohammed, his emotion nearly choking him. "Allah is great and Mohammed is his prophet--do I know him?" he repeated, taking a long draw at his chibouque as if to calm his nerves, while he lay back for a moment motionless amid his cushions.

"Well, who on earth is he, Mohammed?" demanded Tom abruptly--"that is, unless the a--medicine--has got into your head."

While the Greek had been talking to Charley in the first instance, it may be mentioned that Tom had dexterously transferred the bottle of brandy to the keeping of the Turk, who had secreted it behind his back, after turning half aside and pouring out a pretty good dose into his coffee-cup, all with the most rapid legerdemain as if he were a practical conjuror.

"Effendi," said Mohammed with dignity, "you insult me by such a remark. The sight of that man--that Grec, that villainous piratt, quite overwhelmed me."

"Pirate!" said Charley, for Tom was too much abashed by the Turk's rebuke to speak.

"Yes, piratt," repeated Mohammed firmly. "That would-be simple Grec sailor, as he represented himself to you, was no one else than Demetri Pedrovanto, better known in the Aegean Sea, as `The Corsair of Chios.' There's a price of ten thousand piastres on his head. Mashallah! How he dares show himself in Beyrout, amongst the enemy he has plundered, I know not. However, kismet! 'tis his fate, I suppose."

"Are you sure?" asked Charley, who was inclined to think that Mohammed was cramming them.

"Effendi, throw dirt on my beard if I lie. It is Demetri Pedrovanto, sure enough."

"But I never heard of pirates being about in these waters, with so many French and English cruisers going backwards and forwards in the neighbourhood," observed Tom.

"Aha, you Inglese and Frenchmans don't know everyting!" said the Turk laconically, after emitting another volume of smoke, which he had been apparently accumulating all the time he had been speaking previously. "There are alway piratts in dese seas, and always will be, as long as Grecs are Grecs!"

"Ah, you say that because you are a Turk," said Charley chaffingly.

"No, no, no," replied Mohammed, shaking his head vehemently. "I'm not one great bigot because I have been born under the crescent. I am cosmopolitaine. You ask your consul, or ze Americans, dey will tell you the same. All dose Grecs are piratts, and dem as isn't piratts are brigands, tiefs, every one."

"Well, you've got a very good opinion of them at any rate," said Tom. "I wonder what the beggar spoke to us for, eh? If he is the man you say, I don't suppose he would have the cheek to go on board the _Muscadine_."

"No, I should think not," agreed Charley; "and if he does, the skipper will soon overhaul his papers, and then find him out."

"Aha, ah!" grunted out Mohammed. "De Grec is one ver clevaire rogue, and would sheet Sheitan himself."

"Who is he?" asked Charley innocently. "I heard you mention him before."

"De Debble!" answered the Turk, so gravely that both the young fellows burst out into such paroxysms of laughter that Mohammed thought they were ridiculing him, and they had much difficulty in assuring him to the contrary. Indeed, it was not until late in the evening, after they had dinner of kebabs and coffee and their host had imbibed several cups of his "med-i-seen," that he grew friendly again; and then, he was so cordial that he wept over them at their departure, and assured them that he loved them as his own children, as his brothers, as his father, nay, even as his great-grandfather, who had borne the standard of the prophet in the annual pilgrimage to Mecca!

When Tom and Charley got on board the _Muscadine_, they saw only the second officer, Mr Tompkins, who after telling them that they were very late, and that the captain had turned in long since, said they might go below; which of course, as the ship was in harbour and only an anchor watch kept, when their services were not required, they were extremely grateful for, and turned in accordingly, without giving a thought to their rencontre at the khan.

The next morning, however, when they came on deck they saw three or four Greek sailors lounging about the foc's'le, and Mohammed's warning recurred to there with startling significance.

"Who are those men?" asked Charley of Mr Tompkins, who was in command of the vessel for the time being, Captain Harding, the skipper, having gone ashore, and the chief mate being invalided with those of the crew who were in the lazaretto.

"Some new hands the captain shipped last night," answered he; "and if you've any more business ashore, Master Onslow, you'd better look sharp about it, as we're going to sail as soon as we've obtained pratique, which will be about four bells, I reckon."

"But, does Cap'en Harding know about them?" asked Tom, sinking his objection to having any conversation with the second officer in the urgency of the occasion.

"You mind your own business, you young dog," said Tompkins, glad to have the opportunity of snubbing Tom. "I suppose you would like to command this ship, but you sha'n't while I'm on board."

"You cad!" muttered Tom under his breath, as he walked away forward to look at the men more closely. "I wish I had you on land for a quiet half hour, and I'd soon take the starch out of you!"

"None of your jaw," shouted the second mate as a parting shot. "I hear you, and if you speak another word I'll have you put in irons for mutiny," swearing also a fearful oath. So Tom had to put up with the other's language and nurse his wrath until the skipper came on board.

When Charley joined him presently, they took note of the new additions to the crew, who were altogether eight in number; but to their surprise they did not see the Greek among them whom Mohammed had indicated as being the far-famed corsair; and on their comparing their views they both agreed that the worthy Turk must have been "slinging the hatchet" at their expense, or else mistaken about the supposed pirate.

On Captain Harding coming off, however, they thought it their duty to tell him what they heard; but the skipper, who was a bold bluff English sailor, laughed the Turk's warning to scorn, and joked the young fellows for taking any notice of it.

"What! Mohammed told you, the keeper of the khan by the Capuchin monastery. My dear boys, he was only humbugging you. I saw the old rascal this very morning hauled up before the cadi, for being drunk and kicking up a row. He must be able to spin a fine yarn when he has a mind to. There are no pirates nowadays in the Mediterranean; and if we do come across any, I believe the _Muscadine_ will be able to give a good account of them. Pirates! bless my soul, what a tremendous liar that old Turk must be! Those Greeks I've shipped are honest sailors enough; for I've examined their papers, and had them before our consul. Besides, I've told them what sort of discipline I keep on board my ship; and they are not likely to try and come the old soldier over me--not if John Harding knows it!"

"But, captain," put in Tom.

The skipper wouldn't hear any more, however. "Now get to your stations, lads," said he, to show that the private interview was at an end. "Mr Aldridge, I must make you acting second officer in Mr Tompkins' place, as I've promoted him to poor Wilson's berth until he can join me at Smyrna, as I'm bound to start at once now that I have filled-up the vacancies amongst my crew. Charley Onslow, remain aft with me. All hands up anchor, and make sail!"

In a short time the men working together with a will, and the new hands specially distinguishing themselves for their activity in so marked a manner as to call forth the approval of the generally grumbling Mr Tompkins--although, perhaps, he praised them because Tom and Charley had suspected them--the _Muscadine_ had her anchor at the catheads; and, her topsails having been dropped long before, was sailing gaily out of Beyrout harbour, under the influence of the land-breeze that sprang up towards the afternoon, blowing briskly off shore.

When she had got a good offing, and the mountains of Lebanon began to sink below the horizon in the distance as she bowled along merrily on her north-western course, a long way to the southward of Cyprus, bearing up direct for the Archipelago, a keen observer on board might have noticed something that looked strange, at all events on the face of it.

No sooner had the shades of evening begun to fall than a long low suspicious-looking vessel crept out from the lee of the land, and followed right in the track of the _Muscadine_, as if in chase of the English ship.

It was a swift-sailing lateen-rigged felucca, one of those crafts that are common enough in Eastern waters, especially in the Levant.

She spread a tremendous amount of canvas; and leaping through the sea with the pace of a dolphin, came up with the doomed merchantman hand over hand.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER THREE.

FRIENDS IN COUNCIL.

The _Muscadine_ when she left England had a crew of some twenty hands, or with the captain, and first and second mates, and our friends Tom and Charley, twenty-five men altogether--a very fair average, as the proportion of the seamen usually borne in merchant ships is at the rate of about three to every hundred tons of the vessel's burthen.

Through the illness, however, of the fust officer, Mr Wilson, an amiable man and a thorough sailor, whom everybody liked--quite the reverse of the odious Tompkins, Tom's and Charley's special bete-noir-- and a large number of the seamen, whom they were forced to leave behind in hospital at Beyrout, the complement of the ship was much reduced, and her crew now mustered, officers and men, but twenty in number, of which total twelve were Englishmen who had originally belonged to her, and eight the Greeks whom the captain had so suddenly shipped at the last moment.

"It's a good job that Cap'en Harding didn't get any more of those blessed Greeks aboard: they're almost equal to us now, man for man," said Tom to Charley, who on this first night of their being at sea after so long a detention in port was performing an act of not altogether disinterested friendship in sharing the first watch on deck of the newly-promoted "second mate," as he would persist in addressing Tom.

"Yes, sir; I think you are about right, sir," replied Charley, with a mock deference, which made Tom grin in spite of his endeavours to preserve a dignified composure. "Is there anything else, sir, you'd like me to say, sir?"

"Only, that I'll kick you in the lee scuppers if you call me `sir' again. But, Charley, joking aside, I don't like us having all those Greeks here, and we so short-handed too."

"Don't you see that that is the precise reason why they are here, most sapient of second officers? if we hadn't been short-handed the cap'en wouldn't have shipped them."

"Yes, yes, I know that," replied the other shortly. "You don't seem to follow me, Charley, really. What I meant to point out was, that there are only twelve of us belonging to the ship on whom we could rely-- indeed only eleven, for that matter, as I don't count on Tompkins; a bully like him would be sure to show the white-feather in a scrimmage-- while these Greek chaps muster eight strong, all of them pretty biggish men, too, and all armed with them beastly long knives of theirs, which I've no doubt they know how to use."

"Bless you, Tom, Cap'en Harding would be a match for half-a-dozen of them with his revolver; and you and I would be able to master the other two, without calling for aid on any of the foremast hands, or relying on your chum Tompkins. How fond you're of him, Tom!"

"Hang Tompkins, and you too, Charley! You can't be serious for a moment!"

"Oh yes I can, Tom; and I will be, now! I tell you what, old chap, your sudden promotion has disagreed with you, and you are trying to manufacture a mountain out of a molehill. Those Greeks are not such fools to attack us unless they gained over the rest of the crew on their side; and you know that's impossible; for every Englishman forward now in the foc's'le I'd stake my life on; and so would you, Tom, as they've shipped with old Harding every voyage he has sailed since he's been captain of the craft. You've got a fit of the blue-devils or something, Tom, that makes you so unlike yourself; or else that blessed old Turk's nonsense made a deeper impression on you than it has on me!"

"You're right, Charley," said Tom Aldridge, giving himself a shake as if to dispel his strange forebodings. "I don't know what has come over me to-night. Of course, if those beggars should rise, we could whop them easily enough. To tell you the truth, I shouldn't mind if they did, if Tompkins only got a knock on the head in the fight!"

"Bravo, Tom! that's more like yourself! But isn't your watch nearly over? It must be six bells by now; the moon is getting up."

"So it is, Charley I wish you would call that beast for me; it's time he was on deck."

"All right!" shouted the other with a laugh, scuttling down, and hammering at the first mate's cabin-door, so loudly that Tom could hear him plainly above, and also Mr Tompkins' deeply growled oaths in response to the summons, after it was repeated once more with all the strength of the middy's fists beating a tattoo.

"He'll be here in a minute," said Charley, as he hurried up the companion in advance of the gentleman he had called to relieve Tom's watch; although Tompkins came pretty close behind him, swearing still, and glaring at the two young fellows in the moonlight as if he could "eat them without salt," as Charley said.

Before going below, Tom gave the first mate the ship's course, as was customary, "nor'-west and by north," reporting also that all was right and nothing in sight, no vessel had passed them during the night; and then he and Charley turned into their bunks, with the expectation of having a better "caulk" than they had had all the time the _Muscadine_ had lain at anchor in Beyrout Roads, for while there, the heat and lassitude produced by their having almost nothing to do had so banished sleep that they hardly cared when the time came for their "watch below." Now, however, it was all different; as what with the bustle of preparation in storing the last of their cargo, and seeing to those endless little matters which had to be put in ship-shape manner before the anchor was weighed, and the actual departure itself, their time had been fully occupied nearly from dawn to sundown, and their feet and hands busy enough in running about on deck and aloft, directing the crew under the captain's orders, and lending assistance where wanted. So it was with the comfortable assurance of having earned their four hours' rest that they went below that first night at sea.

"I guess old Tompkins will have to rap pretty loud to make me budge at eight bells," said Tom with a portentous yawn, as he peeled off his reefing jacket and turned in "all standing," as he expressed it, with the exception of his boots. He was too tired to undress; and besides, he thought, in his lazy way, what was the use of his doing so when he would have to turn out again and relieve the first mate at four o'clock in the morning, just as he was beginning to enjoy himself.

"By George, a sailor's life is a dog's life!" he muttered out aloud.

"What, eh?" sleepily murmured Charley from the other bunk adjacent, the two occupying one cabin between them; and, presently, the pair were "wrapped in the arms of Morpheus," and snoring like troopers in concert, the captain playing a nasal obligato from his state-room in the distance, whither he had retired a short time before themselves, after being satisfied that the ship was proceeding well on her course and everything all right.

And all this time the _Muscadine_ was bowling so favourably along at the rate of some eight knots an hour, carrying with her the fair wind with which she had started from port, the felucca that had left the Syrian coast shortly after still followed in her track, although hull-down on the horizon, and her white lateen sails only just dimly discernible to a sharp eye that was looking out for her, under the rays of the rising moon, which now emerged from the waste of water that surrounded the two vessels with its fathomless expanse. But who on board the merchant ship suspected that they were pursued or looked out for the felucca, dead astern as she was, and only a tiny speck on the ocean?

STORY TWO, CHAPTER FOUR.

THE STRANGE SAIL.

Mr Tompkins, the late second and now first officer of the _Muscadine_, besides possessing a nasty, grumbling, fault-finding temper for the benefit of those under him, and a mean, sly, sneaking sort of way of ingratiating himself with his superiors, was as obstinate as a mule, and one of those men who would have his way, if he could, no matter what might be the consequences. When he was able, as was the case with the men he was unfortunate enough to command, he bullied those who might differ from him into acquiescence with his views; with those over him in authority he adopted another course, that of wheedling and slavish "shoe-scraping," as Tom Aldridge termed it; but in both instances he generally succeeded in carrying his point, and arranging things in the manner he had previously made up his mind to.

Now, with eight strange hands, and those foreigners, who had lately come on board, any reasonable person would have naturally divided them four and four in each watch, thus mixing them up with the eight English able seamen left of the _Muscadine's_ original crew; but no, Mr Tompkins was of a different opinion, and what was more, carried round Captain Harding to his way of thinking, much to Tom and Charley's surprise. It was not on account of the new first mate having any ulterior designs on the ship or cargo--that idea may be dismissed at once, for he neither had the villainy nor pluck for such a proceeding. His real object was, that these new men were all fresh to the vessel and had not yet any experience of his persuasive ways; unlike the old hands, who knew Mr Tompkins so well that they hated him and shirked work when he was to the fore--and by getting them all into his watch matters would be able to go easy with him, and he would be able to astonish everybody by the way in which he got the duty done when he had charge of the ship, instead of having to call on the assistance of the skipper when his orders were not obeyed, as had frequently been the case before.

He did not tell Captain Harding this, however. His explanation of the proposed plan was, that the men, being all Greeks, would work better together, as they had already shown when making sail; and, as he understood Lingua Franca, which all foreign sailors can speak, he could manage them better than "such a boy as young Aldridge," who might get along well enough with the old hands who knew him, but would be powerless to exercise any authority over those foreigners, who wanted a man to drill them.

"Very well, Tompkins," said Captain Harding, when the first mate had well-nigh deluged him with his reasons. "I suppose you know best; and as you've got to see to the working of the ship you can have your own way, though what you can see to prefer those ill-looking beggars to decent British tars I'm sure I can't understand. I'm glad you're not afraid of them, at any rate?"

"Afraid, sir!" repeated Tompkins scornfully, with any amount of braggadocia. "These foreigners only want you to let them see you are master, and they're tame enough. It is only from want of firmness that any trouble ever breaks out when they're on board an English ship. They need a strict hand over them, that's all."

"All right, Tompkins. Only don't bully them too much, you know!" said the captain good-humouredly, for he was sufficiently acquainted with the first mate's pleasant way of ordering the men about to be aware that he did not err on the side of leniency in exercising his authority, as he complained that his subordinate officer Tom did.

And thus it happened that when Tom and Charley went below and joined Captain Harding in his slumbers, the deck was left in sole possession of Mr Tompkins and the eight Greek sailors, with the suspicious-looking felucca creeping up rapidly astern, and getting nearer and nearer to the _Muscadine_ each hour.

A stern-chase is proverbially a long one. And so, although the light-winged craft that was following the ship sailed three feet to her two; yet she had such a long start, and the breeze was so fair and dead aft--which was all in favour of a square-rigged vessel and against a fore-and-after, that sails best with the wind abeam--that the felucca was still some five miles off when day broke and the chief mate first discovered her.

He was not alone in his discovery either, for he noticed that a part of the watch were looking over the bulwarks at the approaching vessel, and from their gesticulations and rapid speech in their own language he thought something was up.

Calling one of the Greek sailors, named in the ship's articles "Pollydorry," as the captain had put him down, whom he thought he could better make understand that version of "Lingua Franca" which he pretended to know, the mate interrogated him as to what he knew of the felucca, and what was her intention in trying to overhaul them. The man, however, only shrugged his shoulders, and jabbered something which he could make nothing of; and as the group then ceased speaking together, or paying any attention to the stranger, Mr Tompkins put down their excitable demeanour to their being only foreigners, and their natural way of going on, so unlike the stolid British seafaring man, who hardly notices anything except it specially concerns him, and even then keeps what he thinks to himself.

As it was getting near the time, however, for him to be relieved of his watch and go off duty--although it still wanted half an hour to four bells, when it was Tom Aldridge's turn to come on deck again and call up the other men below--he thought he would give Charley Onslow a hail in the meantime, to come up and keep him company until then. Not that he was a bit alarmed at the approach of the felucca, as he said to himself, or that he was anyway at all frightened at being alone on deck with the Greek sailors when so many more of their comrades might be so close at hand. But it was always best to be on the safe side, and there was nothing like a man in authority, as he was, taking due precaution against any possible danger, no matter how remote.

Thus trying to cheat his own conscience, Mr Tompkins sang out for Charley down the companion, awaking him from the soundest sleep he had had for weeks with the echoes of his melodious voice.

"Just like the braying of a jackass afflicted with bronchitis," as Charley said afterwards ruefully, to his chum.

Much to the first mate's annoyance, he not only awoke Charley, but Tom also; both the lads coming on deck together.

"I didn't call you, Mr Aldridge," he said angrily. "My watch is not over yet."

"I'm quite aware of that," said Tom. "But no fellow could go to sleep after such a hideous row as you made. And besides"--looking at his watch--"I'm due in another twenty minutes, so I thought I had better come up with Charley, since I was woke up. Hullo! what is that?" he added, glancing astern at the felucca, which was now almost within speaking distance, and coming on as if she were going to sheer alongside. "What the deuce is that piratical-looking craft running us aboard like that for? If I were you, Mr Tompkins, I would signal them to stand off, and call up the captain and the other watch."

"I will thank you to mind your own business, Mr Aldridge," replied the chief mate, not at all pleased with the suggestion. "If you are so terribly alarmed at the sight of a common Levantine coaster, you had better go below again."

And he turned on his heel, leaving Tom burning with indignation at having his courage questioned and being taunted of being frightened, especially by such a person as Mr Tompkins.

The felucca was barely a cable's length off now, and in another minute she passed underneath the _Muscadine's_ stern so closely that they could have chucked a biscuit on board her.

"Schooner ahoy!" hailed Mr Tompkins. "What's the matter? Do you want anything?"

But no reply was made directly, although the felucca luffed up a bit, and ran for a second or two almost alongside, the ship's main-yard just touching her reed-like masts, and a voice uttered a few words rapidly in Greek, which Charley, although he had a smattering of the language, could not quite understand, although the foreign sailors on board their vessel evidently did, as they replied in the same tongue. And then the dapper little craft's lateen sails filled again as her helm was put down, and she flow away from the _Muscadine_, sailing on a bowline, and heeling over to the wind so as to display half her keel as she topped the waves, just as if the other vessel had been lying still in the water, although she was going a good eight knots by the log in the same direction.

"Did you see that fellow's face on board the felucca who spoke to our men, Charley?" asked Tom anxiously.

"No," said Charley. "But I heard his voice, and that was enough for me."

"Oh, you recognised him, then?"

"Yes. I could swear, only from his voice, that he was the same man who spoke to us in Mohammed's coffee-shop at Beyrout. He had a most peculiar twang in his speech, which I noticed at the time."

"It was the same chap, Charley; I saw him distinctly. I wouldn't be at all surprised that Mohammed was right, and that he is a `piratt,' as he called him. But if he is after us, I wonder why he didn't board us then. That felucca was crammed full of men."

"Ah, piracy would be rather risky work in these seas, with lots of men-of-war about; at all events, in broad daylight, as it is now. From the distance the ship has run, we can't be very far off Cyprus, and the pirate, if pirate he be, knows well enough that an English frigate has been stationed there ever since we occupied the island. I've no doubt, however, Tom, that he is after us, for I heard, as well as I could make out, from what I know of the language, two phrases, `In a couple of nights' time,' and `Look out for the signal,' while the Greek sailors here said, `It's all right on board,' as if they had arranged everything. I don't like it at all, Tom. What a murderous lot of fellows they are, and what a fool that Tompkins is to insist on having them all in one watch!"

"We'll tell the captain what we've heard and seen," replied Tom.

But at that moment the first mate, who had gone down into the waist of the ship to confer with the Greeks, returned, rubbing his hands and with a scornful smile on his face.

"A nice thing it would have been if I had gone below and wakened up the captain to tell him that a fruit-boat from Rosetta was going to run us down!" said he ironically, speaking at Tom, although he did not directly address him.

"Rosetta does not lie astern of us," said the latter aside, as if to Charley. "And they didn't answer your hail, at all events!"

"Pray, sir, did you understand what they said?" said the mate angrily, speaking this time straight to Tom. "No," he replied.

"Well, then, I do, and I will thank you to hold your tongue. The men have told me all about it. Those fellows in the schooner had lost their reckoning and didn't quite know where they were, and our men, speaking Greek of course, told them."

"And I wonder how they knew?" said Tom. The first mate was posed for a moment, but he quickly recovered himself.

"I suppose any one without being a sailor could tell them that as we've run more than a hundred miles since we left Beyrout yesterday afternoon, and gone in a nor'-westerly course, we must be a little to the southward of Cyprus. But, I'll thank you to mind your own business, as I told you before, Mr Aldridge."

"It is my business," said Tom, "and I'll take care to tell Captain Harding of it."

"Tell the cap'en and be--" said Mr Tomkins in a rage. "But I'll save you the trouble, I will tell him myself," he added a moment afterwards, dashing down into the cabin, and leaving Tom to dismiss his watch and take over the duty without another word.

"That's pretty behaviour!" said Tom to Charley. "I call that relieving a fellow in proper style. No unnecessary ceremony at all."

"Well, you brought it on yourself, Tom," said Charley, with a sympathising grin. "You will badger him so. I suppose, now you are second officer, you intend paying him back for old snubs, eh?"

"I don't want to notice the beggar at all," replied the other. "I wouldn't have spoken to him then if it hadn't been my duty to do so. He is a pig, though. I daresay he hasn't told the captain anything at all, as he hasn't come up."

"You let him alone for making his story right," said Charley. "Captain Harding hasn't come on deck because there's nothing to call him; for that mysterious craft is hull-down now and almost out of sight ahead."

Such was the case; and when the captain did turn out at breakfast time he had heard the first mate's version of the affair, and as the felucca had now quite disappeared below the horizon, altogether pooh-poohed Tom's account of having recognised Mohammed's "corsair," even although Charley backed him up by his statement of what he had heard say in conversation with the stranger.

"Avast there, my dear boys!" said he, speaking good-humouredly to them, as he always did. "That rascally old Turk so stuffed you up with his lying yarns, that you've got pirates on the brain."

Captain Harding, however, did one thing that pleased them, especially Tom, to whom it gave the greatest satisfaction.

Despite the first mate's protest, he remodelled the two watches into which the crew were divided, putting four of the Greek sailors with an equal number of English Jack tars in each, so that should any "little unpleasantness," as he laughingly observed, occur, the foreigners would not have it all their own way.

Mr Tompkins's chagrin when this was effected was delightful to Tom, although he suffered from it, as the first mate, ascribing to his suggestion the credit of the new arrangement, vented his spite on him accordingly, and tried to make his duties as difficult for him as he could.

Nothing was seen further all that day, or the next night, of the felucca, although Tom never went below for a single watch even when his time for relief came--except for meals, of course--remaining on deck and keeping a sharp lookout towards every point of the compass, not only during his own time of duty but in that of the chief mate as well, despite the latter's broad hints and insulting remarks that his absence would be more agreeable than his company. So, when the following day likewise passed without any reappearance of the suspicious stranger, both the lads began to think that their fear of being attacked by pirates was only a chimera, founded, as the captain had said, on Mohammed's fabulous narrative; for Charley had been quite as nervous in the matter as Tom, and had shared his anxious watch with him all through ever since he had recognised the Greek on board the felucca.

Accordingly, the two, their apprehensions quite allayed, turned in together again on the third night the _Muscadine_ was at sea, without any greater anticipation of something being about to happen, beyond the usual disagreeables of a sailor's life, than they had the first evening after they left port--both quitting the deck about just the same time as then, too, when Tom was relieved by the first mate at six bells.

"Isn't that a sail out there, Charley, right in the wind's-eye?" said Tom as they turned to descend the companion-stairs, pointing to what looked like a white speck, far-away off in the direction he had named.

"A sail be hanged!" exclaimed Charley. "I never saw such a fellow in my life. You are like Don Quixote, who fancied every windmill a giant. I believe that blessed felucca haunts you in your sleep!"

"No, really, Charley, I didn't think it was her. I meant another sort of sail. But I was mistaken, for I can see nothing now."

"That's always the way with you, Tom. It strikes me that all your sails are sells."

At which brilliant piece of wit on Charley's part both lads laughed so loudly that Mr Tomkins thought they were making fun at his expense, and it was gall and wormwood to him as he paced the deck on the windward side; and "the two inseparables," as Captain Harding dubbed them, then turned in without any further palaver save a brief "good-night," being soon wafted happily into the land of dreams.