Tom Finch's Monkey Part 5

Although the chief brigand scowled at me, he allowed me to lift poor Rollo, who was not dead as I had feared, and I bandaged his neck where the wound was with my handkerchief, and took him up in front of me.

The leader then spoke vehemently in his own language to one of the treacherous guides, who approached dad as if to speak.

"Away, scoundrel!" said dad, wrathfully. "Don't speak to me; I would kill you if I were free, for leading us into this ambus.h.!.+"

The man, however, urged again by the chief, who raised his pistol ominously at dad, approached him once more.

"The Albanian chief says that if twenty thousand piastres apiece, or one hundred thousand piastres in all, are not paid for you by sunset here to-morrow evening, you shall all be shot in cold blood, and your doom be on your own heads."

"Tell your chief, or thief, or whatever ruffian he is, that none of us will pay a penny. Our friends at Athens will miss us, and you'll have the palikari after you all in hot haste if I'm not back to-night safe."

"The English lord forgets that he left word that he might remain for two days on the mountains, and his friends will not think him missing before to-morrow night: at that time, the English lord and his friends, and the little lords, will be all dead men if the ransom be not paid."

"What on earth shall I do, Buncombe?" asked dad of the captain. "Shall I write an order on my bankers for the money to be sent? One hundred thousand piastres will be about five thousand pounds--I don't know whether my credit will be good for that amount?"

"Your credit and mine will be sufficient," Captain Buncombe said; "one can't trifle with these fellows, for the villains keep their word, I'm told."

The guide again spoke by the chief's order to dad, as if the tenor of the captain's words were understood.

"The Albanian chief declares that if the ransom be not paid by sunset to-morrow at latest, every one of you shall be shot, and your heads cut off and sent back to Athens in token of your fate."

"Ugh!" said Mr Moynham, shuddering; "I certainly have been a Tory throughout all my life, but I should not like to follow Charles the First's example."

"I declare it's disgraceful," said Captain Buncombe; "I'll apply to the amba.s.sador. This brigandage is the curse of Greece. I'll--"

"That won't help us now," said dad. "I suppose we must write for the ransom, although under protests; for, however much we have to pay, we must remember that our lives are in jeopardy; and that's the main consideration."

The advice was good; so, a joint letter was despatched to certain influential friends, as well as dad's banker at Athens, urging that the ransom should be sent in a certain way, to be handed over, as the brigand chief arranged, as we were given up, so that there should be no treachery on either side. The false guides then went off cheerfully down hill towards the plains, whilst our cavalcade, encompa.s.sed by the brigands, moved towards those mountain fastnesses, "where they resided when they were at home," as Mr Moynham said.

Up and down hill and dale, we seemed in the darkness to be penetrating miles into the country; until, at last, pa.s.sing, as well as we could see from the gloom, which was almost impenetrable, through a narrow glen between steep peaks, we suddenly turned a corner of a projecting rock, and found ourselves on an elevated plateau on the top of the mountains, where a strange scene awaited us. A number of ruddy watch-fires were burning with red and smoky light, and around these sat, reclined, or moved about, in a variety of active employments, a number of dark forms, most of which were robust Arnauts, clad in their national dress, which in the distance is not unlike that seen among Highlandmen, consisting as it does of a snowy white kilt, green velvet jacket, and bright-coloured scarf wound round the waist. Here and there, the glare from the firelight was reflected from the barrels of guns, rifles, and matchlocks, which the owners were cleaning or examining; while, before several of the fires cooking operations were going on. Kids, whole sheep, and pieces of raw flesh, were being slowly broiled, hanging from bits of stick stuck in the ground, or suspended by pieces of string attached to the branches of the overhanging trees that encircled the plateau. This added to the "effect" of the scene.

"Quite operatic, and better than old Drury," I heard Mr Moynham say; but we were all too depressed and uncomfortable from our constrained att.i.tudes to feel inclined to appreciate the picturesque, the brigands having taken us off the horses, and flung us down on the ground, having this time bound even Bob and myself; indeed, they treated us with even less attention than they would have bestowed on anything eatable, judging by the care they evinced in their cuisine, although they did not offer us anything either to eat or drink, much to Mr Moynham's great chagrin especially, nor did they give us the slightest covering to protect us from the night air when the waning watch-fires told us that bedtime--save the mark--had arrived. I suppose they thought that it did not much matter if we did catch cold, considering that we were going to be shot within twenty-four hours!

Tired out with fatigue, we finally sank to rest in the same place where we were first pitched down, not awaking till late the next morning, when we found most of the brigands had departed--to look-out for other "welcome guests" like ourselves, I suppose! Only three were left to guard us, but they were quite enough, considering that we were tied up fast, and couldn't move if we wished.

How slowly that day dragged out! We thought it would never end. They gave us some hard coa.r.s.e dry bread to eat and water to drink, nothing else; and the hours dragged themselves slowly along, as if they would never end.

Our hopes gradually sank, as the sun declined in the heavens, for we watched the progress of the glowing orb with almost the devoted zeal of the followers of Zoroaster.

At last, just as it was within half an hour of sunset as nearly as we could calculate, we heard a tumult as of many voices in the ravine leading to the plateau; and, presently, the man whom we had conceived to be the leader of the brigands advanced towards us, in company with his band, now largely reinforced by others. At a word from him our bonds were untied, and we were a.s.sisted to our feet, on which we could not stand firmly for some little time, on account of the want of circulation of our blood during the long time we had been in such constrained att.i.tudes.

The guide who had previously acted the part of interpreter after betraying us--although, by the way, he told us before he left us that he belonged to the band, and thus, perhaps, had only acted honourably according to his creed--then translated what the leader had to say.

Our ransom had been paid, and we were free to go down the mountains.

The horses, mules, and everything belonging to us would be restored, and a trusty guide--the speaker, of course--would put us in the direct route to Athens, but as near the city as possible; and, finally, the chief begged that we would excuse the rough treatment to which we had been subjected, as he had a great regard for us!

"It was all very well to dissemble his love," quoted Mr Moynham; "but,--why did he kick us down-stairs?"

"The chief!--which chief, or thief?" said dad sternly. He did not feel particularly pleased with the Arnauts or their leader. "I've had enough of the scoundrels already, and the sooner I lose sight of them the better! What do you mean by the chief?"

"He means me!" said a gorgeous individual, all green velvet jacket, and gold braid, and red sash, with a cap set rakishly on the side of his head, in the front of which glittered a diamond of surpa.s.sing brilliancy.

We had noticed this individual before, but not especially, and he had been rather hidden by the figure of the man we looked upon as the leader: now he stepped forward, and we could see his face plainly, as we recognised the voice.

Who do you think it was?

Why, Stephanos Pericles, the man whom we had saved from drowning, and who had sent us those handsome presents!

"Why have we met with this treatment at your hands?" said papa, puzzled at the Greek's behaviour.

"You have nothing to complain of," said Stephanos, with an air of courteous n.o.bility which exasperated the captain to that degree that I saw him clenching and unclenching his fists, and dancing about, as Mr Moynham said afterwards, "like a hen on a hot griddle."

"My dear sir, you have nothing really to complain of," said the Greek.

"You saved my life, I admit, and I think I politely expressed my obligations at the time. In return I now present you with five lives, independently of that of the dog, which, I am sorry to see, has been hurt."

"But the ransom?" said dad.

"Oh, I'm sorry I had to insist on that," said Stephanos, placidly; "but it is one of our rules to enforce such in all cases, and I'm sorry that I could not let you off, although my friends.h.i.+p yearned to set you free without it. You must really please excuse the treatment you have met with. If I had known who honoured me with their company, I'm sure you would have had no reason to be dissatisfied with my hospitality. The _next_ time you favour me with your presence, my lord--"

"The next time you catch me here, or anywhere else on Greek ground,"

laughed my father in a hearty "Ho! ho!" in which all of us joined, "you may cut me up into kabobs and cook and eat me, and welcome; for I know I'll then deserve it!"

We got back safe aboard the _Moons.h.i.+ne_ all right, setting sail from the Piraeus next day; but it was a good trick of the brigand chief, wasn't it--though I can't say much for his grat.i.tude after all, spite of those magnificent presents, which there was little reason to wonder at his offering us, considering the easy manner in which he got his money?

The cut in Rollo's neck healed soon, and he is now as right as ever he was, excepting a slight scar which tells where the stiletto or dagger went, and he wears still the collar of gold that Stephanos Pericles presented him with. As for the rest of our party, all of us got home safe with the _Moons.h.i.+ne_, which is now fitting out at Ryde for the coming regatta, where I hope she'll come off as successfully in carrying off prizes as "THE GREEK BANDIT."

CHAPTER FOUR.

JIM NEWMAN'S YARN: OR, A SIGHT OF THE SEA SERPENT.

"Was you ever up the Niger, sir?"

"Why, of course not, Jim! you know that I've never been on the African station, or any other for that matter. But why do you ask the question?"

"Don't know 'xactly, sir. P'raps that blessed sea-fog reminds me of it, somehow or other--though there's little likeness, as far as that goes, between the west coast and Portsmouth, is there, sir?"

"I don't suppose there is," I said; "but what puts the Niger, of all places in the world, in your head at the present moment?"

"Ah, that'd tell a tale, sir," he answered, c.o.c.king his left eye in a knowing manner, and giving the quid in his mouth a turn. "Ah, that'd tell a tale, sir!"

Jim Newman, an old man-of-war's man--now retired from the navy, and who eked out his pension by letting boats for hire to summer visitors--was leaning against an old coal barge that formed his "office," drawn up high and dry on the beach, midway between Southsea Castle and Portsmouth Harbour, and gazing out steadily across the channel of the Solent, to the Isle of Wight beyond. He and I were old friends of long standing, and I was never so happy as when I could persuade him--albeit it did not need much persuasion--to open the storehouse of his memory, and spin a yarn about his old experiences afloat in the whilom wooden walls of England, when crack frigates were the rage instead of screw steamers with armour-plates. We had been talking of all sorts of service gossip--the war, the weather, what not--when he suddenly asked me the question about the great African river that has given poor Sambo "a local habitation and a name."

Although the gus.h.i.+ng tears of April had hardly washed away the traces of the wild March winds, the weather had suddenly become almost tropical in its heat. There was not the slightest breath of air stirring, and the sea lay lazily asleep, only throbbing now and then with a faint spasmodic motion, which barely stirred the s.h.i.+ngle on the sh.o.r.e, much less plashed on the beach; while a thick, heavy white mist was steadily creeping up from the sea, shutting out, first the island, and then the roadstead at Spithead from view, and overlapping the whole landscape in thick woolly folds, moist yet warm. Jim had said that the sea-fog, coming as it did, was a sign of heat, and that we should have a regular old-fas.h.i.+oned hot summer, unlike those of recent years.

"Ah, sir," he repeated, "I could tell a tale about that deadly Niger river, and the Gaboon, and the whole treacherous coast, if I liked, from Lagos down to the Congo--ay, I could! It was that 'ere sea-fog that put Afriker into my head, Master Charles; I know that blessed white mist, a- rising up like a curtain, well, I do! The 'white man's shroud,' the n.i.g.g.e.rs used to call it--and many a poor beggar it has sarved to shroud, too, in that killing climate, confound it!"

"Well, Jim, tell us about the Niger to begin with," said I, so as to bring him up to the scratch without delay; for, when Jim once got on the moralising or sentimental tack, he generally ended by getting angry with everybody and everything around him; and when he got angry, there was an end to his stories for that day at least.