|
"Then it will be necessary to waken him and take him with us,"
said the renegade, "and everything of value in this fair mansion."
"Nay," said she, "my father must not on any account be
touched, and there is nothing in the house except what I shall take, and that
will be quite enough to enrich and satisfy all of you; wait a little and you
shall see," and so saying she went in, telling us she would return immediately
and bidding us keep quiet making any noise.
I asked the renegade what had passed between them, and when he told me, I
declared that nothing should be done except in accordance with the wishes of
Zoraida, who now came back with a little trunk so full of gold crowns that she
could scarcely carry it. Unfortunately her father awoke while this was going
on, and hearing a noise in the garden, came to the window, and at once
perceiving that all those who were there were Christians, raising a
prodigiously loud outcry, he began to call out in Arabic, "Christians,
Christians! thieves, thieves!" by which cries we were all thrown into the
greatest fear and embarrassment; but the renegade seeing the danger we were in
and how important it was for him to effect his purpose before we were heard,
mounted with the utmost quickness to where Hadji Morato was, and with him went
some of our party; I, however, did not dare to leave Zoraida, who had fallen
almost fainting in my arms. To be brief, those who had gone upstairs acted so
promptly that in an instant they came down, carrying Hadji Morato with his
hands bound and a napkin tied over his mouth, which prevented him from uttering
a word, warning him at the same time that to attempt to speak would cost him
his life. When his daughter caught sight of him she covered her eyes so as not
to see him, and her father was horror-stricken, not knowing how willingly she
had placed herself in our hands. But it was now most essential for us to be on
the move, and carefully and quickly we regained the vessel, where those who had
remained on board were waiting for us in apprehension of some mishap having
befallen us. It was barely two hours after night set in when we were all on
board the vessel, where the cords were removed from the hands of Zoraida's
father, and the napkin from his mouth; but the renegade once more told him not
to utter a word, or they would take his life. He, when he saw his daughter
there, began to sigh piteously, and still more when he perceived that I held
her closely embraced and that she lay quiet without resisting or complaining,
or showing any reluctance; nevertheless he remained silent lest they should
carry into effect the repeated threats the renegade had addressed to him.
Finding herself now on board, and that we were about to give way with the
oars, Zoraida, seeing her father there, and the other Moors bound, bade the
renegade ask me to do her the favour of releasing the Moors and setting her
father at liberty, for she would rather drown herself in the sea than suffer a
father that had loved her so dearly to be carried away captive before her eyes
and on her account. The renegade repeated this to me, and I replied that I was
very willing to do so; but he replied that it was not advisable, because if
they were left there they would at once raise the country and stir up the city,
and lead to the despatch of swift cruisers in pursuit, and our being taken, by
sea or land, without any possibility of escape; and that all that could be done
was to set them free on the first Christian ground we reached. On this point we
all agreed; and Zoraida, to whom it was explained, together with the reasons
that prevented us from doing at once what she desired, was satisfied likewise;
and then in glad silence and with cheerful alacrity each of our stout rowers
took his oar, and commending ourselves to God with all our hearts, we began to
shape our course for the island of Majorca, the nearest Christian land. Owing,
however, to the Tramontana rising a little, and the sea growing somewhat rough,
it was impossible for us to keep a straight course for Majorca, and we were
compelled to coast in the direction of Oran, not without great uneasiness on
our part lest we should be observed from the town of Shershel, which lies on
that coast, not more than sixty miles from Algiers. Moreover we were afraid of
meeting on that course one of the galliots that usually come with goods from
Tetuan; although each of us for himself and all of us together felt confident
that, if we were to meet a merchant galliot, so that it were not a cruiser, not
only should we not be lost, but that we should take a vessel in which we could
more safely accomplish our voyage. As we pursued our course Zoraida kept her
head between my hands so as not to see her father, and I felt that she was
praying to Lela Marien to help us.
We might have made about thirty miles when daybreak found us some three
musket-shots off the land, which seemed to us deserted, and without anyone to
see us. For all that, however, by hard rowing we put out a little to sea, for
it was now somewhat calmer, and having gained about two leagues the word was
given to row by batches, while we ate something, for the vessel was well
provided; but the rowers said it was not a time to take any rest; let food be
served out to those who were not rowing, but they would not leave their oars on
any account. This was done, but now a stiff breeze began to blow, which obliged
us to leave off rowing and make sail at once and steer for Oran,
as it was impossible to make any other course. All this was done very promptly,
and under sail we ran more than eight miles an hour without any fear, except
that of coming across some vessel out on a roving expedition. We gave the
Moorish rowers some food, and the renegade comforted them by telling them that
they were not held as captives, as we should set them free on the first
opportunity.
The same was said to Zoraida's father, who replied, "Anything else,
Christian, I might hope for or think likely from your generosity and good
behaviour, but do not think me so simple as to imagine you will give me my
liberty; for you would have never exposed yourselves to the danger of depriving
me of it only to restore it to me so generously, especially as you know who I
am and the sum you may expect to receive on restoring it; and if you will only
name that, I here offer you all you require for myself and for my unhappy
daughter there; or else for her alone, for she is the greatest and most
precious part of my soul."
As he said this he began to weep so bitterly that he filled us all with
compassion and forced Zoraida to look at him, and when she saw him weeping she
was so moved that she rose from my feet and ran to throw her arms round him,
and pressing her face to his, they both gave way to such an outburst of tears
that several of us were constrained to keep them company.
But when her father saw her in full dress and with all her jewels about her,
he said to her in his own language, "What means this, my daughter? Last
night, before this terrible misfortune in which we are plunged befell us, I saw
thee in thy everyday and indoor garments; and now, without having had time to
attire thyself, and without my bringing thee any joyful tidings to furnish an
occasion for adorning and bedecking thyself, I see thee arrayed in the finest
attire it would be in my power to give thee when fortune was most kind to us.
Answer me this; for it causes me greater anxiety and surprise than even this
misfortune itself."
The renegade interpreted to us what the Moor said to his daughter; she,
however, returned him no answer. But when he observed in one corner of the
vessel the little trunk in which she used to keep her jewels, which he well
knew he had left in Algiers and had not brought to the garden, he was still
more amazed, and asked her how that trunk had come into our hands, and what
there was in it. To which the renegade, without waiting for Zoraida to reply,
made answer, "Do not trouble thyself by asking thy daughter Zoraida so
many questions, senor, for the one answer I will give thee will serve for all;
I would have thee know that she is a Christian, and that it is she who has been
the file for our chains and our deliverer from captivity. She is here of her
own free will, as glad, I imagine, to find herself in this position as he who
escapes from darkness into the light, from death to life, and from suffering to
glory."
"Daughter, is this true, what he says?" cried the Moor.
"It is," replied Zoraida.
"That thou art in truth a Christian," said the old man, "and
that thou hast given thy father into the power of his enemies?"
To which Zoraida made answer, "A Christian I am, but it is not I who
have placed thee in this position, for it never was my wish to leave thee or do
thee harm, but only to do good to myself."
"And what good hast thou done thyself, daughter?" said he.
"Ask thou that," said she, "of Lela Marien, for she can tell
thee better than I."
|