It is impossible for me to analyze my thoughts or reflections, on hearing this terrible relation of Clavering's lonely and helpless butchery in his sleep, by the hands of villains such as these Turkish galiondgis.
Poor Tom Clavering! his well-whiskered face and manly figure came vividly before me, as I had last seen them in Dumbarton Castle, when he seemed the jolliest of our merry mess; and when full of joy at his approaching marriage, and all thoughtless that I was his rival, he spoke to me of his love for Laura; of her beauty, and that which was better than beauty, her worth; and when, in the fulness of his heart, he generously placed his purse at my service with all the frankness of a soldier and of an English gentleman.
But he was gone, and Laura was a widow now.
A widow at two-and-twenty, or thereabout!
Here was food for thoughts of hope and ardour, for now she would be free to choose another; and though the pale image of Iola still hovered painfully and oppressively before me at times, I felt that I loved Laura still. Then came the crushing and startling thought of the dangers which menaced her, and the words of the villain Abdul were yet tingling in my ears.
'The caiques will leave the Ustuola on the fourth night from this, and the yacht will be boarded and taken!'
Taken by those Greek pirates and Turkish outlaws whose savage barbarity have long made terrible the shores and isles of the Ægean sea!
So Laura was with me in this land so distant from our home; she was within a few miles of me, and a great longing seized my soul—a longing to look once more upon her face—to hear her voice again; the voice that in other times had thrilled through my inmost heart, which now began to 'ache with the thought of all that might have been;' but it stood still, forgetting almost to beat, while my blood ran cold at the reflection that I was a prisoner, and totally incapable of assisting, warning, or protecting her or her friends.
All my soul seemed now to be with that stranded yacht on the Isle of Marmora, which was more than forty miles distant, as a bird would fly.
Oh, to be free! my longing and my horror were fast becoming insupportable.
How often had the same unavailing exclamation left my lips, as with clenched hands, and teeth that gnawed my nether lip, I trod to and fro in wretchedness, despondency, and bitterness of heart, in the narrow passage or aisle formed by the double line of captives chained on each side of the Bagnio.
I had long since discovered the futility of attempting to soften, bribe, or terrify the chaoush who commanded the guard, for he feared us, as prisoners of the Moolah Moustapha; thus the rascal seemed incorruptible.
The story of Clavering's fate, and the adventure of the diamond-ring, haunted me as much as the doom that overhung the yacht of Sir Horace and her crew. Could I rest while, almost within arm's length of me, there was this jewel which had been on the white hand of a pure and innocent English girl like Laura Everingham (and which, moreover, had been her gift to a brave and honest hearted fellow like Clavering) remaining in possession of a vile and polluted assassin like Zahroun?
Twenty times I stepped towards him, with the intention of clutching his throat, though he seemed to possess thrice my strength; and I as often drew back on reflecting that, in case of a brawl, I might be torn to pieces by the prisoners if I came within arm's length of them, or perhaps I might be shot by the guards from without, as Achmet Effendi informed me that, on scuffles ensuing, they frequently fired through the gratings, without the least remorse or ceremony; and he added, that if we escaped a round of ball-cartridge we would assuredly be chained, like the rest, to the walls.
To Callum Dhu I translated the horrible story of Zahroun, and the honest heart of my foster-brother was fired with rage and sorrow when he heard the fate of Captain Clavering. The frank and manly bearing of the English Guardsman, with his love of old Highland sports, had made a most favourable impression on the mind of my follower, whose heart was apt to become somewhat encrusted by jealousy and prejudice on the approach of strangers; and now, whispering fiercely in my ear, he swore by the stones of Iona to tear the head off the shoulders of Zahroun.
The sunset had faded away; the eight reflections of the eight narrow slits which, from a shady verandah, admitted light into our vault, had disappeared from the stained and dirty walls; the place was so dark that we could not see each other's faces, as on this night the chaoush of the Turkish guard had omitted to light the lantern which usually swung from a pillar of our den; or perhaps the quartermaster of the castle had no oil in store; but what ever the reason may have been, we were left quite in the dark when I finished my translation of the story, and then Callum Dhu, filled by a sudden tempest of Highland fury, and regardless of all consequences, sprang upon Zahroun, and seizing him by the throat, endeavoured to hurl him beneath his feet; but the bare-legged and bare-armed galiondgi was brawny, muscular, and strong as himself, so the struggle that ensued between these two athletes was alike fierce and terrible! Their hard, constrained breathing; their half-suffocated exclamations, threats, and execrations in hoarse Gaelic on one hand, and guttural Turkish on the other, were drowned amid the noise made by the prisoners, who began their usual infernal chorus of shrieks, yells, oaths, and laughter, with loud and impetuous inquiries on all hands as to what was the matter, while the general row was increased by the swinging and dashing of chains.
'Callum! Callum!' I exclaimed, 'here are lights—the Turkish guards may fire upon us.'
'Let them blaze away!' was the answer of Callum, who, wholly intent on battling with his ferocious antagonist (whom he had now beaten to the ground, and on whose brawny chest he had planted his kilted knees), heeded me not, for his Celtic blood was fairly up, and his mouth, moreover, was full of it, as Zahroun, with one of his iron fetters, had given him a blow on the jaws. While they continued to fight thus, like two wild panthers, writhing, twisting, and struggling, sundry pleasant adjectives in their different languages were resorted to.
'Dioul!' was freely invoked on one side, and all the genii of hell, with the beards of the twelve imaums, and the same reverend appendages of the two hundred and twenty-seven thousand prophets of Islam wore summoned in vain on the other, while the storm of swinging chains and clamorous voices rang in the arched vault like the bellowing of a stormy sea.
A red light flashed fitfully through one of the iron gratings, and the swarthy visage, heavy moustache, and scarlet fez of the Turkish sergeant appeared, as he held up a flaring torch and gazed in, with something of wonder and alarm in his dark and dilating Asiatic eyes. The iron door was hastily opened, and several soldiers, clad in short blue jackets, and tight red trousers, ran down the steps, and preceded by the chaoush with the torch, began to lay about them on all sides with bamboo rods, caning all without discrimination.
As the sergeant rushed forward, a prisoner, in sheer mischief, put out a foot and tripped him up. With a malediction the non-commissioned officer fell flat on his face, with the burning link almost in his mouth, by which—Barek Allah!—his sacred moustaches were scorched off in a moment; and as the light went out, two or three of his comrades fell over him in the dark, increasing the confusion. A hand now grasped mine with fierce energy. It was Callum's.
'Now,' said he, 'now or never! follow me!'
And he dragged me up the steps and through the open door, which we could easily distinguish by a faint light beyond it. As we issued into the yard before the Turkish guard-house, Callum, with admirable presence of mind, closed the barrier of the vault, turned the key, and by an additional wrench broke it in the lock, leaving the chaoush and his soldiers to fight or fraternise with the prisoners, as they pleased.
'Let us be but through the outer barrier, and we are free!' said I.
The night was starry but dark, for the moon had not yet risen, and an increasing wind rolled the waves of the Propontis on the rocky beach.
There was no time for calm deliberation; no leasure to undo an error, for we had nothing to guide our decision but the quickness of instinct and the rapidity of desperation. Our lives would be lost or won in less than five minutes—a dreadful reflection to me, even now, when all the danger is over and I sit in my quiet quarters writing of what is all happily past.
The gate was closed and secured by a transverse wooden bar. Muffled in his blue greatcoat, the Turkish sentinel stood near it, with his musket on his shoulder, and the long bushy tassel of his scarlet cap drooping down his back. I could mark his sharp Asiatic features defined against the sky. He stood still and motionless as a bronze statue, with his lacklustre eyes fixed on the stars, and absorbed apparently in one of those waking dreams peculiar to those Osmanlies who spend their spare paras in opium and raki.
'Mac Innon,' whispered Callum, 'to you I leave the undoing of the gate; give me the sentinel to manage—'
'You will not kill him?' said I, hurriedly, seeing that there was a wild gleam in Callum's eyes, and that he had, between his teeth, a skene-dhu, which, by being concealed in his hose, had hitherto escaped the search of our captors.
'Kill him? not if I can help it; but I would rather be shot here, sir, than go back to that infernal prison. Dioul! do you hear how the old chaoush is bellowing at the door?'
Roused by the unusual noise, the dreamy sentinel turned his head half round to listen, and at that moment Callum sprang upon him, and grasped his throat with a clutch into which he threw all the muscular strength of his sinewy arms and fingers. The swarthy visage of the poor Turk became distorted; his eyes almost started from their sockets, and the musket fell from his shoulder. I snatched up the weapon, and (while Callum hurled the soldier to the ground) endeavoured to throw off its iron hooks a solid cross bar that secured the wicket in the gate, which was composed of strong vertical palisades.
This bar was secured in its place by a chain and large brass padlock, the key of which was probably at the belt of the chaoush, whose outcries we dreaded would momently rouse the rest of his comrades in the little fortress.
Heavens, what a chaos were then my thoughts! All seemed a dream, and we did everything as if in a dream; yet all we did was wisely and correctly done. I unfixed the bayonet from the musket; inserted its triangular blade into the loop of the padlock; grasped the socket with my right hand, the point with my left, and using the weapon as a lever, wrenched it fiercely round, and burst the impediment. Thus the chain which secured the bar was loosened; the wicket stood open, and the sentinel lay breathless on the ground.
'I hope the poor fellow will soon recover—he was only doing his duty,' said I.
'He'll be able to bawl for help in three minutes; Dioul! if he does, I'll go back with my skene and gralloch him like a dead deer; see he is stirring already!' said Callum, as we leaped through the gate; and intent only on placing the greatest possible distance between ourselves and the Bagnio of Selyvria, hastened along the sea-shore, avoiding the high road which traverses the rugged coast, and which we naturally supposed would be the first line of search and of pursuit.