Chapter 13

ALGIERS AND ANDY.

It was several hours later before they went ashore, the special party that the girls were in being led by Mr. Lawrence, and consisting of the four young people. Mrs. Vanderhoff had been quite upset by the storm, and was not equal to any exertion yet, which was, indeed, the condition of several of the passengers.

Even Mr. Lawrence looked pale, and laughingly owned to "being a little shaky in his gait." But he thought himself equal to a jaunt in the city, especially such an odd, quaint one as Algiers.

Captain Hosmer took them ashore in his own gig, but left them on the quay, for he was full of business. He said they might take their time, as he did not expect to get up steam again much before night, and slipped a coin into each of the girl's hands, telling them to use it "for fun." Then, explaining that by the time they were ready to board her again the steamer would doubtless be in her slip, and thus easily reached, he lifted his cap and was off.

"How strange it all is!" cried Bess, with a slow delighted survey. "This street we are in might be a part of New York, or of London, so far as buildings go, but the old Egyptian fashions and people, the open booths, and the queer old street venders are all mixed through it, somehow, until it seems as unreal as a dream.

"Yes," laughed Hope; "it makes me think of a girl dressed in a Paris gown, but wearing a mishmak, like our ayahs on the ship."

"It's the new grafted upon the old," observed Mr. Lawrence, "and we are now coming to what is all old."

He led the way into a narrow lane-like street, which seemed mostly a succession of rude steps, leading upwards.

Here they had to move one side and hug the wall, to make way for a donkey-train, with heavily laden panniers, which was being goaded along by dark-skinned boys, who, as Dwight remarked, seemed to wear all their clothes on their heads, where the heavy turban was coiled by the yard, while thence to the waist was scarcely any covering. Their black eyes gleamed good-naturedly, however, and when Mr. Lawrence flung a handful of small coin among them they scrambled vivaciously, salaamed to him and to the girls, and showed every white tooth with pleasure at the "backsheesh."

"Dear me! It seems to be all climb here," remarked Faith wearily, after an hour or two of the rough native streets, which divide the old town and make it like a different place, as compared with the new.

"Yes, it's climbing, either way you take it," said Dwight. "You can't even have the fun of sliding down-hill after getting up, for these steps are so rough you've got to pick your way every instant, or take a tumble. Now, what is that? Did you ever see anything so queer? Why, _what_ is it?"

Even Mr. Lawrence was nonplussed for a moment, but presently broke into laughter, in which he was quickly joined by the rest, for the queer figure approaching turned out to be a vender of monkeys, and he had certainly chosen a most novel device for carrying his lively burden. A tall branch of considerable size had been freshly cut from an olive tree, and its leaves still hung, coldly-gray, and only half wilted, from the twigs.

Among this foliage were clustered a dozen or more of the little creatures, each fastened by one leg to prevent escape. This tree-like branch was carried straight upward, like a flag-staff, by a stalwart Mohammedan who, with his burnous wrapped about him, in all the dignity of a Roman senator, stalked steadily ahead, once in a while breaking into an odd cry that told his wares, but, as Mr. Lawrence suggested, sounded more like the slogan of a Scottish chieftain going into battle. Altogether, he was an odd and striking spectacle.

They stopped the man to parley with him, and in a mixture of French and Arabic he managed to inform Mr. Lawrence that his monkeys were well trained and tamed, and that they came from the Vallée des Singes,[1] not far away.

"Oh!" breathed Faith in an aside to her sister, as the men were conferring, "aren't they the cunningest things? And so little! Hope, I've a great mind to buy one in place of poor Hafiz. Don't you think it would be fun?"

"Y-yes, of course. But aren't they dreadfully mischievous?"

"All the more fun, then! I certainly am going to buy one. Father said the money he gave us was to be spent for fun, and there's nothing funnier than a monkey."

Faith looked and felt like a naughty child. It was seldom she asserted herself against the known inclinations of others, and when she did she could be really obstinate. Hope's objections only increased her desire to purchase.

"Mr. Lawrence," she cried eagerly, "do ask him the price of this wee thing on the lowest branch--the one that has such a forsaken look. My heart aches for him!"

"But I thought you wanted a funny one, Faith," put in her sister. "Now, this looks much jollier; see how he jumps about and grimaces."

But Faith's tender heart was touched by the mournful look of the smaller creature, and she felt, somehow, that she could better justify her purchase if compassion helped to sway her, for, though no one really opposed her, she felt denial in the air, and was quite certain she might meet it from her father upon her return to the ship with this new pet. So she went on rapidly, "Yes, I want this one. With good care and petting he will grow happier, I'm sure. Then he really looks as if he had a conscience."

Mr. Lawrence laughed.

"Be not deceived by that long visage, Miss Hosmer. I have a foreboding that he will prove a terror. Time will tell."

Dwight was of course wild to invest, also, but his uncle said,

"No, my boy! One monkey is a good many. Wait and see how this will turn out. There's no end to the opportunities for monkey deals in this part of the world. They are a drug on the market."

Meanwhile, the stately vender set his tree against a wall and began gravely untying the wizened little specimen from his branch, then handed him into the eagerly outstretched hands of Faith with a superb smile, as if he were some great potentate conferring a priceless boon upon a beloved subject. Not that he was anything but the poorest fellah,[2] with scarce a sou to his credit, but this is Oriental mannerism, and most impressive mannerism it is, too.

He then raised his finger and addressed a regular harangue to the creature, who, with tail curled about Faith's wrist, sat gravely upon his two palms and listened. The tiny beast was so moveless, so attentive, and so solemn, its master so earnest and impressive that all looked on wonderingly until, having finished his remarks, the Arab gave a last shake of his dingy finger monkeywards, salaamed low to the party, then shouldering his burden stalked on once more, the little captive looking after him for a minute, and then wrinkling up his mummy visage to give a weak, babyish cry.

"Oh, dear! He's going to be homesick," groaned Faith, almost repenting of her bargain. "See him cry after the man! What shall I do with him?"

"Let me take him," urged Dwight. "I'll button him up in my jacket and he'll forget and go to sleep, and then, when he wakes, he'll be all right."

"Do you think so? Well, here he is--but tie the string tight to something, so that you won't lose him, please."

"Of course--to my buttonhole, here. There Mr. Monkey, you can't complain of that for a nest--see here! Don't scratch so, you little varmint! You'll tear my shirt front to smithereens."

For a time there certainly was danger of such a catastrophe, but by soothing and petting the tiny thing was at length appeased, and settled down to slumber, while Dwight, in great content over his odd burden, trudged along with the rest, wishing more than ever that the little treasure were his very own.

They had a delightful stroll of three hours up and down the queer scrambling streets of the old town, stopping now and then to buy fruit, or curios, of the merchants in the open booths, sitting cross-legged and solemn over their long pipes, and seeming so utterly indifferent to purchasers, until they were in danger of losing them, when they woke to eager gesticulation and gabble.

Occasionally, they peered into the doors of the native schools, where the scholars squatted on shelves about the dim room, and were graduated as to size, the largest sitting nearest the ceiling.

"For all the world," whispered Hope, "like a cupboard full of china pitchers!"

Next to this, perhaps, would be a group that only needed framing to make a picture, where two grave men, each wrapped in his burnous, sat Turk-fashion, playing checkers before a low doorway, while back in the shadow an indistinct figure, in flowing white drapery, touched the strings of some instrument which sent out a sound of thin tinkling, that could scarcely be called music because so tuneless and monotonous.

In places the streets were so very narrow, dark, and filthy, and the few figures slid away into the windowless house walls in so ghostlike a fashion, that the girls hesitated a little before following their guide.

"I feel a good deal as if I were going through a graveyard," whispered Bess once, "only it's one where the inmates sometimes walk!"

"Yes," said Mr. Lawrence, and told her how a French author who has written well and largely of this odd corner of the earth, called these steep dark streets, "mysterious staircases leading to silence," which greatly impressed them all as entirely descriptive of their weirdness.

Hunger at length drove them back to the fine new town, with its broad, well-paved streets, gas and electric lights, gay awnings, and beautiful parks and squares where grew a very luxury of blossoms. They were all quite ready for rest and dinner, and felt they had found both in the great dining-room of an elegant hotel, where the only foreign things were the punkahs and the turbaned waiters, for the tables, glittering in silver and crystal, the richly frescoed walls, the surrounding galleries lined with blooming plants, the military band playing there, and the many uniformed officers among the guests at table, suggested only French dominion and Parisian luxury and fashion. Indeed, as Mr. Lawrence explained, Algeria is a French colony, and its fortified walls are manned and guarded by French soldiers, only.

The dinner was exquisitely cooked and served, and all were enjoying it as only youth and good digestion, stimulated by exercise, can, when something happened--Mr. Monkey awoke. Dwight felt his wriggles, but hoped he would calm down again after a little, as he had before. The rest of the party, absorbed in their dinner, had nearly forgotten the stranger, and Bess, when she saw an uneasy movement or two on her brother's part, thought he had taken too large and hot a mouthful of the red curry, and gave him a protesting glance for his greediness.

The next instant there was a worse convulsion, and just under his necktie suddenly appeared a tiny apish head. Before any one could do more than gasp the whole monkey was out of prison, and, with a leap to Dwight's shoulder, began taking observations; then seeing the food on his plate made a dive for it.

Both Dwight and Mr. Lawrence interfered to stop him, but the creature was brought up short by his bit of rope, fastened to the lad's buttonhole, and began crying loudly as he hung suspended by one leg for an instant.

With a scarlet face Dwight jerked him upright, and tried to slip him into a pocket; but by this time Mr. Monkey's ire was up, and he scorned to be thus concealed. People all about were looking and laughing, while the head-waiter was bearing down upon them with a threatening eye. Faith, conscience-stricken, and too well aware that she ought to bear the brunt other new pet's misbehavior, rather than Dwight, looked on miserably, as red as he, while Hope giggled wildly, and Bess looked utterly disgusted.

Dwight made another clutch at the creature, which evaded him and, with a rapid movement, wound the rope around his neck so tightly that he choked, and began to turn black in the face. Mr. Lawrence, who, though mortified by the sensation they were creating, could not restrain his laughter, now sprang to his nephew's aid, and was about to cut the strangling cord when another flashing movement unwound it, and left the lad's windpipe intact.

Thoroughly angry now, Dwight caught the apish thing, and, boxing its ears till it howled, stuffed it into his pocket and hurried from the room, his dinner forgotten in his chagrin.

"Oh, oh!" moaned Faith, cowering disconsolately over her plate, "what can I do, Mr. Lawrence? Poor Dwight! It's all my fault. And he was _so_ hungry. Can't we give it to somebody, or--or wring its neck, if it must be? It's too bad!"

"Well, it is a somewhat upsetting episode," he agreed, still shaking inwardly, "but it may serve one good purpose. Dwight will cease his teasing to own one of the pesky things, I imagine. And don't worry over his dinner, Miss Faith. He's eaten enough already to keep him from starvation, I'm sure, and I'll see that he returns to finish after the guests have thinned somewhat. Poor boy! He's had monkey enough for to-day, I'll warrant."

They soon left the table, for Faith could not eat another mouthful, and all felt anxious to know how the battle had ended. They at length found Dwight sitting dejectedly in one of the veranda chairs, his hair tumbled, coat torn, and necktie awry, and his face as long as his arm. The monkey, quite as solemn, was tied to a post, and sat pensively holding its chops in its skinny palms and eyeing its new master with great disfavor.

"So you've conquered?" laughed Mr. Lawrence, while Faith began humbly to beg pardon, but was quickly interrupted.

"What for?" asked Dwight brusquely. "You couldn't help it because he's a fool, could you?"

"No, no, Dwight--not that! Only a monkey," cried Hope, delighting in the scene. "You and Faith both wanted a funny one, you know, and you've got it, so what's the use of fretting? I'll tell you--let's give him to the next beggar that follows us, shall we, Faith?

"No," said the girl with sudden resolution, "I'll take care of him, myself."

She stepped close to the troubled mite and untying the rope, gently lifted it to her arms, softly stroking it and speaking in a low, cooing voice. Both touch and glance proved magnetic, and soon it had curled down in the shelter of her arms and gave no more trouble.

After Dwight had finished his interrupted repast Mr. Lawrence said there was one more place, not far distant, that he wanted them particularly to visit, and all somewhat reluctantly followed him into a church that, though handsome, looked too thoroughly English to seem interesting amid old-world quaintness. But they were to find themselves mistaken. It proved to be, indeed, an English chapel, but it was still more--a memorial to all English-speaking people who once suffered martyrdom in this city, when it boasted its thousands of Christian slaves brought from doomed vessels by the dreaded Corsairs; also of those who have died more happily, as free men, in later years.

As they strolled quietly about the interesting building, beneath the stained-glass windows, reading these various records, which are inscribed on precious marbles in high colors, that make a dado around the walls, Hope gave a little cry and eagerly beckoned Dwight, who had fallen behind. He came at once, and both read with intense satisfaction a glowing tribute to a certain American consul from our own United States, who once "rendered eminent services to the British nation"--so read the inscription--by friendly help to the British Consul, who was held in chains by the Dey, and his family expelled to lonely and terrified isolation far in the interior. A grateful nation had erected the tablet.

"Good!" whispered Dwight, then as if to relieve their excited feelings, the two gravely shook hands.

"What means this ceremony?" asked Mr. Lawrence with amusement, as he looked on surprisedly, and Dwight, pointing to the mural tablet, answered with dignity,

"We were just showing our pride in our two countries, uncle," and in spite of the disarray caused by his little unpleasantness with the monkey, Dwight at that moment looked so noble that his uncle could not help a quick, "Bless you, my boy!" as he laid a hand lovingly upon the lad's shoulder.

When on board the "International" once more, our friends separated for needed rest, and the sisters entered the library, to find their father busy over a wilderness of papers spread out upon the large table in the center. But he took leisure to give them a hearty greeting, and cried merrily,

"You never can guess what I found for you in Algiers!"

"Nor you what I found in Algiers," returned Faith quickly, keeping a firm hold on the little captive, who was now hidden beneath her lace scarf.

"You found? Have you been buying me a present, girlie?" laughed her father with eager interest.

"Why, n--no, not exactly," stammered Faith, somewhat taken aback, and growing decidedly warm in her efforts to keep the beast quiet. "Only I--"

"What's the matter with your hands? Can't you keep 'em still under that gauze thing?" asked her father suspiciously, while Hope, expectant and amused, looked on with dancing eyes.

"Yes only--oh! Hope, I can't hold him, he scratches so--a-auch!" and in spite of herself she dropped the spunky mite which, like a streak of lightning, dashed across the room and up Captain Hosmer's leg, into his coat pocket. The yard of twine, still attached to him, hung outside, and the astonished man, seeing only the streak and the string, sprang up with a shout of dismay.

"A snake!" he cried. "A _snake_! What are you doing with a snake?"

Hope, in a paroxysm, fell back upon the window seat, Faith, between laughter and dismay, tried to explain, and poor little Monsieur Siege, nearly scared out of his wits, darted from the inhospitable pocket up the chair-back, then leaped to the top of the window, where, feeling secure, he hung himself up to the curtain-rod by his tail, and proceeded to scold, like a perfect virago.

The captain looked at him, glanced down at his pocket saw the "snake" had gone, but thumping it once or twice to make sure turned upon Faith, his face red and puckered, yet with a gleam of fun in his eye that detracted from the fierceness of his mien.

"You little greenhorn! Have you been buying a nasty monkey?" he thundered.

"Oh, papa! I'm sorry if you're not pleased. I thought, now poor Hafiz is dead--and Hope has Texas--oh see, see! Ha, ha! I _must_ laugh. Isn't that the cutest thing you ever saw?"

For the shriveled witch, taking in the whole scene, had drawn himself up as nearly like the captain as possible and with one wee fist doubled up, was thumping his own little hams, an exact imitation of the man's gesture. In spite of himself, Captain Hosmer burst into laughter, Hope fairly rolled, and Faith, relieved and delighted, let the merry peals ring out, till Tegeloo, busy with some duty just outside, shook his little fat sides, and showed all his ivories in sympathy.

Faith and her pet had won the day, and when her father broke out,

"Where did you get such a Handy-Andy?" she cried quickly,

"There, you've named him, father, you've named him! I have been wondering what to call him, and that's just the thing. Handy-Andy he shall be."

And Handy-Andy he was, but this soon became shortened to Andy alone, and by that name we will speak of his monkeyship in future.

[1] Vale of Monkeys.

[2] Egyptian peasant.