CHAPTER XXXVIII

_Salathiel and the Pirate Captain_

[Sidenote: Spies]

But the delusion was short-lived; my voice broke the spell, and perhaps the consciousness of their idle alarm increased their rage. “Spies!” was then the outcry, and this dreaded sound brought from beds and tables the whole band. It was in vain that I attempted to speak; the mob have no ears, whether in cities or caves, and we were dragged forward to undergo our examination. Yet what was to be done in the midst of a host of tongues, all questioning, accusing, and swearing together?

Some were ready to take every star of heaven to witness that we were a pair of Paphlagonian pilots, and the identical ones hired to run two of their ships aground, by which the best expedition of the year was undone. Others knew us to have been in the regular pay of the procurator, and the means of betraying their last captain to the ax. But the majority honored us with the character of simple thieves, who had taken advantage of their absence to plunder the baggage.

The question next arose, “How we could have got in?” and for the first time the carousers thought of their sentinel. I told them what I had seen. They poured into his chamber, and their suspicions were fixed in inexorable reality: “We had murdered him.” The speediest death for us was now the only consideration. Every man had his proposal, and never were more curious varieties of escape from this evil world offered to two wretches already weary of it; but the Arab’s voice carried the point. “He disliked seeing men tossed into the fire; ropes were too useful, and the sword was too honorable to be employed on rogues. But as by water we came, by water we should go.” The sentence was received with a shout; and amid laughter, furious cries, and threats of vengeance, we were dragged to the mouth of the cave.

[Sidenote: The Arrival of the Captain]

There was a new scene. The tempest was appalling. The waves burst into the anchorage in huge heaps, dashing sheets of foam up to its roof. The wind volleyed in gusts, that took the strongest off their feet; the galleys at anchor were tossed as if they were so many weeds on the surface of the water. Lamps and torches were useless, and the only light was from the funereal gleam of the billows, and the sheets of sulfurous fire that fell upon the turbulence of ocean beyond. Even the hardy forms round me were startled, and I took advantage of a furious gust that swung us all aside, to struggle from their grasp, and seizing a pike, fight for my life. Jubal seconded me with the boldness that no decay could exhaust, and setting our backs to the rocks, we for a while baffled our executioners. But this could not last against such numbers. Our pikes were broken; we were hemmed in, and finally dragged again to the mouth of the cavern, that with its foam and the howl of the tumbling billows looked like the jaws of some huge monster ready for its prey.

Bruised and overpowered, I was on the point of denying my murderers their last indulgence, and plunging headlong, when a trumpet sounded. The pirates loosed their hold, and in a few minutes a large galley with all her oars broken and every sail torn to fragments shot by the mouth of the cavern. A joyous cry of, “The captain! the captain!” echoed through the vaults. The galley, disabled by the storm, tacked several times before she could make the entrance; but at length, by a masterly maneuver, she was brought round, and darted right in on the top of a mountainous billow. Before she touched the ground, the captain had leaped into the arms of the band, who received him with shouts. His quick eye fell upon us at once, and he demanded fiercely what we were. “Spies and thieves” was the general reply.

“Spies!” he repeated, looking contemptuously at our habiliments—“impossible. Thieves, very likely, and very beggarly ones.”

[Sidenote: The Captain’s Story]

I denied both imputations alike. He seemed struck by my words, and said to the crowd: “Folly! Take them away, if it does not require too much courage to touch them; and let them be washed and fed for the honor of hospitality and their own faces. Here, change my clothes and order supper.”

I attempted to explain how we came.

“Of course—of course,” said the captain, pulling off his dripping garments and flinging his cloak to one, his cuirass to another, and his cap to a third. “Your rags would vouch for you in any port on earth. Or, if you carry on the trade of treachery, you are very ill paid. Why, Memnon, look at these fellows; would you give a shekel for their souls and bodies? Not a mite. When I look for spies, I expect to find them among the prosperous. However, if you turn out to be spies, eat, drink, and sleep your best to-night, for you shall be hanged to-morrow.”

He hurried onward, and we followed, still in durance. The banquet was reinstated, and the principal personages of the band gathered round to hear the adventures of the voyage.

“All has been ill luck,” said the captain, tossing off a bumper. “The old procurator’s spirit was, I think, abroad either to take care of his plate or to torment mankind, according to his custom. We were within a boat’s length of the prize when the wind came right in our teeth. Everything that could, ran for the harbor; some went on the rocks; some straight to the bottom; and that we might not follow their example, I put the good ship before the wind, and never was better pleased than to find myself at home. Thus you see, comrades, that my history is brief; but then it has an advantage that history sometimes denies itself—every syllable of it is true.”

As the light of the lamps fell on him, it struck me that his face was familiar to my recollection. He was young, but the habits of his life had given him a premature manhood; his eye flashed and sparkled with Eastern brilliancy, but his cheek, after the first flush of the banquet, was pale; and the thinness of a physiognomy naturally masculine and noble, showed that either care or hardship had lain heavily upon his days. He had scarcely sat down to the table when, his glance turning where we stood guarded, he ordered us to be brought before him.

[Sidenote: Salathiel and the Captain]

“I think,” said he, “you came here but a day or two ago. Did you find no difficulty with our sentinels?”

“Ha!” exclaimed the Arab, “how could I have forgotten that? I left Titus, or by whatever of his hundred names he chose to be called, on guard, at his own request, the day I steered for the Nile. He was sick, or pretended to be so; and as I gave myself but a couple of days for the voyage, I expected to be back in time to save him from the horrors of his own company. But the wind said otherwise—the two days were ten; and on my return we found the wretched fellow a corpse—whether from being taken ill and unable to help himself, or from the assistance of those worthy persons here whom we discovered in attendance.”

“On that subject I have no doubt whatever,” interposed the Egyptian; “those villains murdered him.”

“It is possible,” mused the captain; “but I can not foresee what they are to get by it. A question that you at least will acknowledge to be of considerable importance,” said he, with a careless smile at the Egyptian, whose avarice was proverbial.

The object of satire was stung, and to get rid of the dangerous topic, he affected wrath and said impetuously:

“Let it be so; let our blood go for nothing; let treachery thrive; let our throats be at the mercy of every wandering ruffian; and let us have the consolation that our labors and our sacrifices will be honored with a sneer.”

He turned to the crowd waiting round us. “Brave comrades,” exclaimed he, “henceforth understand that you are at every dagger’s mercy; that if you are left behind, you may be assassinated with impunity, as, if you are taken out upon our foolish expeditions, your lives may be flung away upon the whims and follies of would-be heroes.”

The crowd, fickle and inflamed by wine, gave a huzza for the “sailor’s friend.” The Egyptian encouraged, and having a load of gall upon his memory, made the desperate venture of at once disowning the authority of the captain, and ordering in his own name that we should be delivered over to execution.

[Sidenote: Salathiel Shows a Letter]

The captain listened without a word, but his hand was on his simitar, and his cheek burned, as he fixed his eyes on the livid accuser.

The crowd pressed closer upon us, and I saw the dagger pointed at my breast, when I recollected the letter. I gave it to the captain, who read it in silence, and then, with the utmost composure, desired it to be handed over to the Egyptian.

“Comrades,” said he, “I have to apologize for a breach of the confidence that should always subsist between men of honor. I have here accidentally read a letter which the cipher shows to have been intended for our trusty friend Memnon; but since the subject is no longer confined to himself, he will doubtless feel no objection to indulging us all with the correspondence.”

The band thronged round the table; expectation sat on every face, and its various expression in the crowded circle of those strong physiognomies—the keen, the wondering, the angry, the contemptuous, the convinced, the triumphant—would have made an incomparable study for a painter. The Egyptian took the letter with a trembling hand and read the fatal words.

“The fleet will be off the northern promontory by midnight. You will light a signal, and be ready to conduct the troops into the cavern.”

The reader let the fatal despatch fall from his hands.

An outcry of wrath rose on all sides, and the traitor was on the point of being sacrificed when the young Idumean generously started forward.

“It is known, I believe, to every man here,” said he, “that I dislike and distrust Memnon as much as any being on earth. I know him to be base and cruel, and therefore hate him. I have long suspected him of being connected with transactions that nothing but the madness of avarice could venture upon, and nothing but death atone. But he must not perish without a trial. Till inquiry is made, the man who strikes him must strike through me.”

[Sidenote: The Egyptian’s Treachery]

He placed himself before the culprit, who now taking courage, long and dexterously insisted that the letter was a forgery, invented by “assassins and those who employed assassins.”

The tide of popular wisdom is easily turned; opinion was now raging against me, and the Egyptian stood a fair chance of seeing his reputation cleared in my blood.

“Come,” said the captain, rising, “as we are not likely to gain much information from the living, let us see whether the dead can give us any: lead on, prisoners.”

I led the way to the recess. The dead man lay untouched; but in the interval the features had returned, as is often the case in death, to the expression of former years. I uttered an exclamation; he was the domestic who had betrayed me to the procurator.

“Conscience!” cried the Egyptian.

“Conscience!” echoed the crowd.

The captain turned to me. “Did either you or your companion commit this murder? I will have no long stories. I know that this fellow was a villain, and if he had lived until my return, he should have fed the crows within the next twelve hours. One word—yes or no?”

I answered firmly.

“I believe you,” said the captain. He took the hand of the corpse, and called to the Egyptian. “Take this hand, and swear that you know nothing of the treason. But, ha! what have we here?”

As he lifted the arm, the sleeve of the tunic gave way, and a slip of papyrus fell on the bed. He caught it up, and exclaiming, “What! to-night? pernicious villain!” turned to the astonished band.

“Comrades, there is treachery among us. We are sold—sold by that accursed Egyptian. Strip the slave, and fling him into the dungeon until I return; no, he shall come with us in chains. Call up the men. Every galley must put to sea instantly, if we would not be burned in our beds.”

[Sidenote: Preparing for the Escape]

The trumpets sounded through the cavern, and rapid preparations were made for obeying this unexpected command. The fires blazed again; arms and armor rang; men were mustered, and the galleys swung out from their moorings, in the midst of tumult and volleys of execrations against the treachery that “could not wait, at least, for daylight and fair weather.”

“And now,” said the captain, “I think that it is time for me to sup. Sit down, and let us hear over our wine what story the prisoners have to tell.”

I briefly stated our escape from the dungeon.

“It may be a lie; yet the thing hangs not badly together. Your wardrobe speaks prodigiously in favor of your veracity. Ho, Ben Ali! see that the avenue into the warehouse is stopped up. We must have no visits from the garrison of the tower.”

He had soon a group of listeners round the table.

“As I was lying off and on, waiting to catch that galley, a correspondent on shore let me partly into the secret of that Egyptian dog’s dealings. Rich as the knave was—and how he came by his money, Tartarus only knows—Roman gold had charms for him still. In fact, he had been carrying on a very handsome trade in information during the last six months, which may best account for the escape of two fleets from Byzantium, and not less for the present safety of the procurator’s plate, which, however, I hope, by the blessing of Neptune, to see before another week shining upon this table.”

Then, turning to me, he laughingly said: “Tho I should not trust you for pilotage, your discovery was of use. That an attack upon us was intended I was aware; but the how and the when were the difficulty. The time of the attack was announced in the papyrus, and but for the storm we should probably be now doing other things than supping.”

“The sea is going down already, and the wind has changed,” said the Arab. “We can haul off the shore without loss of time.”

“Then the sooner the better. We must seal up the Romans in their port, or if they venture out on such a night, give them sound reason for wishing that they had stayed at home. Their galleys, if good for nothing else, will do to burn.”

[Sidenote: The Company of the Free-Traders]

This bold determination was received with a general cheer; the crews drank to the glory of their expedition, and all rushed toward the galleys, which, crowded with men, lay tossing at the edge of the arch.

I followed, and demanded what was to be our fate.

“What will you have?”

“Anything but abandonment here. Let us take the chances of your voyage, and be set on shore at the first place you touch.”

“And sell our secret to the best bidder? No. But I have no time to make terms with you now. One word for all; ragged as you both are, you are strong, and your faces would do no great discredit to our profession. You probably think this no very striking compliment,” said he, laughing. “However, I have taken a whim to have you with us and offer you promotion. Will you take service with the noble company of the Free-trade?”

Jubal was rashly indignant; I checked him, and merely answered that I had purposes of extreme exigency which prevented my accepting his offer.

“Ha, morality!” exclaimed he, “you will not be seen with rogues like us?” He laughed aloud. “Why, man, if you will not live, eat, drink, travel, and die with rogues, where upon earth can you expect to live or die? The difference between us and the world is that we do the thing without the additional vice of hypocrisy.”

The bold fellows who waited round us felt for the honor of their calling, and but for their awe of the captain we had stood slight chance of escape.

“A pike might let a little light into their understandings,” said one.

“If they will not follow on the deck, they should swim at the stern,” said another.

“The hermits should be sent back to their dungeon,” said a third.

The boat was now run up on the sand.

[Sidenote: The Captain’s Calling]

“Get in,” said the captain. “I have taken it into my head to convince you by fact of the honor, dignity, and primitiveness of our profession, which is, in the first place, the oldest, for it was the original employment of all human hands; in the next place, the most universal, for it is the principle of all trades, pursuits, and professions, from the Emperor on his throne down through the doctor, the lawyer, and the merchant, to the very sediment of society.”

A loud laugh echoed through the cavern.

While he was arranging his corselet and weapons round him, the captain proceeded: “The Free-trade is the essence of the virtues. For example, I meet a merchantman loaded with goods—for what is the cargo meant? To purchase slaves; to tear fathers from their families—husbands from their wives; to burn villages, and bribe savages to murder each other. I strip the hold; the slave-market is at an end, and none suffer but fellows who ought to have been hanged long ago.”

The captain’s doctrine was more popular than ever.

[Sidenote: On Board the Galleys]

“I see, comrades,” said the captain, “that tho truth is persuasive, your huzza is not for me, but for fact. We find a young rake ranging the world with more money than brains, sowing sedition among the fair rivals for the honor of sharing his purse; running away with daughters; gambling greater fools than himself out of their fortunes; in short, playing the profligate in all shapes. He drops into our hands, and we strip him to the last penny. What is the consequence? We make him virtuous on the spot. The profligate becomes a model of penitence; the root of all his ills has been unearthed; the prodigal is saving; the bacchanal temperate; the seducer lives in the innocence of a babe; the gambler never touches a die. We have broken the mainspring of his vices—money; disarmed the soft deceiver of his spell—money; checked the infection of the gambler’s example by cutting off the source of the disease—money; or if nothing can teach him common sense, our dungeon will at least keep him out of harm’s way. We meet a rich old rogue,” continued he, “on his voyage between the islands. What is he going to do? To marry some young creature who has a young lover, perhaps a dozen. The marriage would break her heart and raise a little rebellion in the island. We capture the old Cupid, strip him of his coin, and he is a Cupid no more; fathers and mothers abhor him at once; the young lover has his bride and the old one his lesson; the one gets his love and the other his experience; and both have to thank the gallant crew of the _Scorpion_, which may Neptune long keep above water.”

A joyous shout and the waving of caps and swords hailed the captain’s display. “The Free-trade forever!” was cheered in all directions.

“And now, my heroes of salt water, noble brothers of the Nereids, sons of the starlight, here I make libation to fortune.”

He poured a part of his cup into the wave, and drank to the general health with the remainder.

“Happiness to all! Let our work to-night be what it will, I know, my heroes, that it will be handsomely done. The enemy may call us names, but you will answer them by proofs that, whatever we may be, we are neither slaves nor dastards. If I catch the insolent commander of the Roman fleet, I will teach him a lesson in morals that he never knew before. He shall flog, fleece, and torture no more. I will turn the hard-hearted tyrant into tenderness from top to toe. His treatment of the crew of the _Hyæna_ was infamous; and, by Jupiter! what I owe him shall be discharged in full. Now on board, and may Neptune take care of you!”

The trumpets flourished, the people cheered, the boats pushed off, the galleys hoisted every sail, and in a moment we found ourselves rushing through the water under the wildest canopy of heaven.