 CHAPTER XVI FESTIVITIES At last the fleet headed by the galley to which all the knights had returned rode towards the port. A gun flashed out from the fort at its entrance, and at once those from all the other batteries responded. Bells peeled out again, and a confused roar of cheering broke from the crowds, occupying every spot from which a view of the harbor could be obtained. The ships in the port were all decked with flags, and the front windows and balconies of every house were hung with tapestries and bright curtains. As soon as the galley entered the port, a state barge flying the flag of the Republic advanced to meet her from the wharf. As she approached, Ralph gave orders for the oars to be laid in, and the barge was soon alongside. The knights had already ranged along the poop, and accompanied by Ralph and Coreto, Gervais moved to the gangway to receive the visitors. At their head was Batista Fragoso, the dog, in his row of state, and following him were a body of the highest nobles of Genoa, all brilliant in gala costume. This, my Lord Duke, Coreto said, is Sir Gervais Trisham, a knight commander of our order, and the commander of this, their galley. He has before, as you may well believe from his appointment to so honorable a post, highly distinguished himself. But what he has before accomplished is far surpassed by the brilliant action that he has now achieved. He has won a victory that not only reflects the highest honor upon the order, but is an inestimable service to Italy, and has freed her from a corsair fleet that would have been a scourge to her, both at sea and to the towns and villages along the coast. Not only has he, with the brave knights under his orders, annihilated the corsair fleet, burning eleven of their galleys, and capturing thirteen others, but he has restored to freedom no less than two hundred Christian captives, among them the Cavaliers Giacomo da Vinci, Pietro Forzi, and myself. In the name of the Republic, Sir Gervais Trisham, and I may say in that of all Italy, I thank you most heartily for the splendid service that you have rendered us. It would have seemed to me well nigh incredible that a single galle, even if commanded and manned by the most famous knights of your great order, should have accomplished so extraordinary a feat. Still more strange is it that it should have been performed by so young a knight, with a crew composed, as Sir Fabricius Carretto has told us, of knights chosen from among the youngest of the order. You have given far more credit to us, your highness, than we deserve, Gervais replied. Three of the ships were indeed captured in fair fight, but we caught the rest asleep and masked together as to be incapable of successful resistance, and they fell easy victims to the fire ships we launched against them. Any credit that is due to me is shared equally by my sub commander here, Sir Ralph Harcourt, and indeed by every night of my company. This doubtless may be so, Sir Gervais, the dog said, with a slight smile, but it is to the head that plans, rather than to the hand that strikes, that such success as you have achieved is due, and the credit of this night attack is, as the Cavalier Carretto tells me, holy yours, for until you issued your final orders, it seemed to him and to the two good knights, his companions, that there was not to do, but to remain in port and watch this corsair fleet sail away to carry out its work of destruction. By this time they had reached the poop of the galley. Gervais now called forward the knights one by one and presented them to the dog, who expressed to them all the gratitude felt by himself, and the whole of the citizens of Genoa for the service they had rendered to the Republic. This ceremony being over, the knights broke up their ranks and conversed for a few minutes with those who had come on board with the dog. The latter then took his place in the barge with his companions, inviting Gervais and Ralph to accompany him. As the barge left the side of the galley, which followed closely behind her, the guns again thundered out their welcome, and a roar of greeting rose from the inhabitants. On landing the party waited until the knights had joined them, and then proceeded up the street to the Dugal Palace, amidst enthusiastic cheering from the crowd that lined the road, occupied the windows and balconies, and even scrambled on the housetops, the ladies waving their handkerchiefs and scarves. At the palace were assembled all the municipal authorities, and the congratulations given on board were here repeated. After this there was a great banquet at which Gervais was placed on the right hand of the dog, who at the conclusion of the feast called upon the assembled guests to drink to the health of the knights of St. John, who had saved the commerce and sea coast of Italy from the greatest danger that had menaced them since the days when the northern rovers had desolated the shores of the Mediterranean. The toast was drunk with enthusiasm, and Gervais then replied with a few words of thanks for the honor done to himself and his comrades. The party then left the vanquithing hall for the great reception rooms, where the wives and daughters of all the nobles and principal citizens of Genoa were assembled. Most of the young knights, belonging as they did to noble families, and accustomed from childhood to courtly ceremonies and festivities, were quite at home here. Coretto, his two companions, and their six Italian comrades, speedily introduced them, and each was soon surrounded by a group of ladies, anxious to hear from his lips the details of the exploits of the galley. But how is it that you are also young, sir Ralph? One of the ladies to whom Harcourt had been introduced as the second in command asked him, when he had finished his account of the capture of the galleys. We heard from those who met you on landing, that all your comrades were young, but we were filled with surprise when you entered the room, for many of them are but lads. You may say that all of us are but lads, Countess. I am the oldest of the party, and in but little over twenty-two, but few of the others are over nineteen. They are all professed knights of the order, who as you doubtless know, come out to roads when only sixteen. Some, of course, do not join until later, but I think that all here entered at the earliest age permitted, and almost all had served in two or three voyages in the galleys before they were appointed to the Santa Barbara. The reason why so young a crew was chosen was that our commander was also young. He had done such exceptional service to the order that he was appointed to the command of a galley, and has, as all will allow, well justified the choice. It was because it was deemed inexpedient to place knights many years his senior under his command, and partly perhaps to encourage the younger knights by giving them an exceptional opportunity of distinguishing themselves, that the crew was chosen entirely from their ranks. I was selected as second in command, because Gervais and I had been special friends when we came out from England in the shame ship, and had before fought side by side against the Muslims. I see that you were gilded spurs, Sir Ralph, another lady said. You must therefore be a dubbed knight. Yes, I had the good fortune to be knighted by Diabasin himself, at the same time that Sir Gervais was also so honoured. It was for an affair with the Turkish pirates. It was Gervais who really warmed the honour. For I had no share in the affair, save that of doing my best in the fight. And who could do more? The Countess queried. Gervais could do more, Countess, as was shown in that attack on the corsairs by means of the fire ships. He has a head to plan, and in the case I speak of, a happy thought of his not only saved the lives of ourselves and Sir John Boswell, but indirectly was the means of preventing two of our galleys being captured by corsairs. Which is Sir Gervais, one of the ladies asked. Ralph smiled. Look round the halls, ignores, and see if any of you can pick him out from the rest of us. The ladies looked round the hall. There are only about twenty here. The rest are in the other rooms. Do not set us to work guessing if he is not inside, Sir Ralph. Oh yes, he is inside. Now do each of you fix on the one you think most accords with your idea of what a knight, brave in action, and wise and prudent in counsel will be like? The six ladies each fixed on one of the young knights. You are all wrong, said Ralph. How can we choose? the countess said laughingly. When none of them resemble our ideal hero, most of them are pleasant and courtly looking youths, but as yet there is scarce a vestige of hair on their faces, and one could not fancy any of them as the destroyer of the fleet of corsairs. Do you see the one speaking to the elderly lady in the recess? Yes, she is the wife of Bregoso. You do not mean to say that that lad is the commander of the galley? Why, he looks the youngest of you all. He is between seventeen and eighteen, and there are several others who are no older. Yes, that is Sir Gervais, Knight Commander of the Order of St. John. But how can he possibly have served his time as a professed knight? He was one of the Grand Master's pages, and his time in that service counted just as it would have done had he entered as a professed knight. And at fifteen, therefore, he stood in the same position as those three or four years older than himself. He speaks Turkish as well as our own tongue, and as I told you, we received the accolade at the hands of the Grand Master a year and a half ago. He is now a Knight Commander, and will assuredly one day occupy one of the highest posts in the Order. You do not speak as if you were jealous, Sir Gervais, and yet he thinks it cannot be pleasant for you all to have one younger than yourselves placed at your head. I do not think there was one of us who so feels, Ralph said earnestly. In the first place, he has performed excellent service. In the next place, even those who did not know him before have felt since we started that he is a born leader. Then, too, we regard with pride one who has brought credit upon the youngest members of the Order. Moreover, we all owe our post in the galley to the fact that he was chosen for its command. It is a difficult position for him to fill, but he has managed so that, while all obey his orders as cheerfully and willingly as if he were a veteran, when off duty we regard him as one of ourselves. You are a staunch friend, Sir Ralph. I am a staunch friend of Sir Gervais' Countess. For the more I know of him the more I care for him, he well deserves the promotion and honor that have fallen to his share. Will you bring him across here to us, Sir Ralph? I want to talk to this hero of yours, and I am sure that my daughter is longing to be introduced to him. Ralph waited until Gervais was disengaged, and then brought him across, and after introducing him, moved away at once, leaving Gervais to be interrogated by the ladies. You must be accustomed to festivities, Sir Gervais, for we have just heard that you are one of the Grand Master's pages. I am accustomed to them, Signora, but that is not at all the same thing as liking them. The reply was given so earnestly, that all the ladies smiled. Your taste is quite exceptional. Do you mean to say that you would rather be on board your galley than here? It would not be polite, Gervais said with a laugh. If I were to say that I would infinitely rather be on board, but indeed I have not, like most of my comrades, been brought up in court or castle. Until the day I joined the order, we led the lives of exiles. My father belonged to the defeated party in England, and saved for a few months when the cause to which he was attached was triumphant. We lived quietly on the estates he had recovered, our life being one of care and anxiety. So you see, I had no training in gaiety and pleasure. At rows there are state receptions and religious pageants, but a meeting such as this is of course impossible in a convent. And since I was eleven years old, I think I have only once spoken to a woman. So you can well understand, Signora, that I feel awkward in speech, and I pray you to make allowance for my ignorance of the language of courtesy, such as would naturally be expected any night, even though belonging to a religious order. There is not to make allowance for, the countess said gently. Women can appreciate simple truth, and are not as men seem to think always yearning for compliments. Those who are most proficient in turning phrases are not often among those foremost in battle, or wisest in counsel. I can tell you that we women value deeds far higher than words. Sir Fabricius Carretto is a cousin of mine, and has this afternoon been speaking so highly of you to me and my young daughter here, that I am glad indeed to make your acquaintance. How long do you intend to stay in Genoa? No longer than it will take me to engage men to carry the prizes to rows. I am afraid that sounds rude, he broke off as he noticed a smile on the faces of the ladies. Not rude, said the countess, though most fights would have put it differently, and said that their duty compelled them to leave as soon as the prizes could be manned. But it comes to the same thing. Of course you will remain the guest of the dog as long as you are here, otherwise it would have given us the greatest pleasure to have entertained you. My cousin is, of course, staying with us, and you see we all feel a very deep obligation to you. He has been so long a slave among the Moors that we had almost come to hope death had freed him from his fetters. So you may imagine our pleasure when he arrived here so suddenly ten days ago. We were expecting that he would remain with us for some time, but he says that he must first go back to rows, after which he will ask for leave and return here. We have a banquet tomorrow evening to celebrate his return, and earnestly hope that you would be present. But since you say that you do not care for such gayities, we shall, if you prefer it, be glad if you will come to join us at our family meal at 12. Thank you, countess. I should very greatly prefer it, and it will give me real pleasure to come. Your friend, Sir Ralph Harcourt, has been telling us how you have destroyed the Corsair fleet that has been so alarming us. He too is an Englishman, though he speaks Italian well. Yes, he speaks at a great deal better than I do, Gervais said. He is a dear friend of mine, and it is indeed chiefly owing to his support and influence that I have been able to manage so pleasantly and well in the command of a body of young knights, most of whom are my seniors. He tells us that you speak Turkish. Yes, I thought that it would be very useful, and spent nearly a year in acquiring it, the bailiff of my Lang being kind enough to relieve me of all other duties. I was fortunate enough to find in one of the servants of the Aburj a well educated and widely informed Turk, who was a very pleasant companion, as well as an excellent instructor, and I learned much from him besides his language. Thus knowledge of Turkish has already proved to me most useful, and was indeed the means by which I obtained both my commandery and my appointment as captain of the galley. Perhaps you will tell us the story tomorrow, that is, if it is too long to tell us now. It is indeed much too long, but if it will interest you, I shall be glad to recount it tomorrow. The next day Gervais went to the palace of the Countess de Forley. She was a widow with no children, except Claudia, the young daughter who had accompanied her to the Fet the evening before. Coretto and four or five relations of the family were the only guests beside himself. It was a quiet and sociable meal, and served with less ceremony than usual, as the Countess wished to place Gervais as much as possible at his ease. During the meal, but little was said about the affair with the pirates, Coretto telling them some of his experiences as a captive. It is well, Claudia, he said, laughing, that you did not see me at the time I was rescued, for I was such a scarecrow that you would never have been able to regard me with due and proper respect afterwards. I was so thin that my bones almost came through my skin. You are thin enough now, cousin, the girl said. I have gained so much weight during the last ten days that I begin to fear that I shall air long, give too fat to buckle on my armor. But, bad as the thinness was, it was nothing to the dirt. Moreover, I was coming near to losing my voice. There was nothing for us to talk about in our misery. It often days passed without a word being exchanged between Da Vinci, Forci, and myself. Do you know I felt almost more thankful for the baths and perfumes than I did for my liberty? I was able at once to enjoy the comfort of the one, while it was some time before I could really assure myself that my slavery was over and that I was a free man again. And now, Sir Gervais, the Countess said, when the meal was over, it is your turn. Kaladia is longing to hear your story and to know how you came to be in command of a galley. And I am also as anxious, Coretto said. I did not like to ask the question on board the galley, and have been looking forward to learning it when I got to Rhodes. I did indeed ask the two knights who accompanied me on my mission here, but they would only tell me that everyone knew you had performed some very great service to the Order, and that it concerned some intended rising among the slaves. The details being known to only a few, who had been they understood, told that it was not to be repeated. It was a very simple matter, Gervais said. And although the Grand Master and Council were pleased to take a very favourable view of it, it was, in fact, a question of luck, just as it was the surprise of the Corsairs. There is really no secret about it, at least, except in Rhodes. There it was thought best not to speak of it, because the fact that the attempt among the slaves was almost successful might, if generally known, encourage others to try to escape, and perhaps with greater success. I told you last night, Countess, that I had only once before in the last six or seven years spoken to a woman, and it was on that occasion that the adventure, so far as I was concerned, had its commencement. He then, beginning at his visit with Ralph Harcourt to the Greek merchant and his family on the roof of the house, recounted the suspicions he had entertained, the manner in which they were confirmed, and the method by which he had discovered the plot for the rising. He was interrupted several times when he attempted to abbreviate the story, or to admit some of the details, and there were exclamations of surprise at his proposal to personate a Turkish prisoner, and to share the lot of the slaves in their prison and on the benches of the galley. I had no idea, Sir Gerbeys, Coreto said, when he had concluded, that you, too, had been a galley slave. I understand now the care you showed to render the lot of the rowers as easy as possible. It was a splendid scheme, and well carried out. Indeed, I no longer wonder that you were appointed to the command of the galley, and received a rich commandery in England at the hands of the Grandmaster himself. What thank you, Countess. Did I speak too highly in his favor? Not one jot, cousin. Why, Sir Gerbeys, it seems to me that you have been born two centuries too late, and that you should have been a knight-errant instead of being sworn to obey orders, and bound to celibacy. Do you wear no ladies' favor in your helm? I know that not a few of your order do so. As I have said, Countess, I know no ladies who would bestow favors upon me. In the second place, I am but eighteen, and it would be ridiculous for me to think of such matters. Lastly, it seems to me that, being bound to the order, I can desire no other mistress. Claudia, who had listened with rapt attention to this story, whispered in her mother's ear. The latter smiled. It seems to me, Sir Gerbeys, she went on, that after what you have done for Italy, there are many fair maidens who would feel it in honor that their color should be borne by one who has shown himself so valiant a knight. You see, a gauge of this chi does not necessarily mean that there is any deep feeling between the knight who bears it and the lady who bestows it. It shows only that she, on her part, feels it in honor that her gauge should be worn by a distinguished knight, and, on his part, that he considers it as somewhat more than a compliment, and wears it as a proof of regard on the part of one whose good opinion at least he values. It is true that, among secular knights, it may mean even more than this, but it ought not to mean more among knights of an order like yours, pledge to devote their lives to a lofty and holy aim. My daughter Claudia whispers to me that she would deem it an honor indeed if you would wear her token, accepting in the spirit in which I have spoken. She is fourteen now, and, as you know, a maid of fourteen here, is as old as one of sixteen or seventeen in your country. Gervais turned to the girl who was standing by her mother's chair, looking earnestly at him. He had noticed her the evening before. She had asked no questions, but had listened so intently that he had felt almost embarrassed. Claudius was a very bright face, and yet marked by firmness and strength. He turned his eyes again to the countess. I never thought of wearing a woman's favor, he said, but if your daughter will be stolen upon me, I shall be proud to wear it, and trust that I may carry it unstained. I shall feel honored indeed at once so fair, and as I am sure by her face, so deserving of all the devotion that a knight of our order can give, has thought me worthy of being one of those on whom she could bestow so high a favor, with the confidence that it would be ever born with credit and honor. What shall I give him, mother? Claudia asked the countess, without a shadow of the embarrassment with which Gervais had spoken. Not a kerchief, Claudia. In the rough work of the nights, it could not be kept without spot or stain. Moreover, if I judge Gervais rightly, and he thinks he would prefer some token that he could wear without exciting attention and remark from his comrades, go fetch him any of her jewels you may think fit. Then I will give him this, the girl said. And unfascining a thin gold chain she wore round her neck, she pulled up a heart-shaped ornament in pink corals set in golden pearls. Her mother uttered a low exclamation of dissent. I know, mother, it was her last gift, and I prize it far beyond anything I have. Therefore it is all the more fit to be my token. Then she turned to Gervais, and went on without the slightest tremor in her voice, or accession of color in her cheeks. Sir Gervais treacher, I bestow upon you this my favor, and shall deem it an honor indeed to know that it is borne by one so brave and worthy. You said that you would be glad to be one of those who bore my favors. You will be more than that, priviled to you that while you live, no other night shall wear a favor of mine. Claudia, her mother said disapprovingly, I know what I am saying, mother. I have often wondered why maidens should so carelessly bestow their favors upon every night who begged for them, and have said to myself that when my time came I would grant it but once, and only then to one whom I deemed worthy of it in all ways, one in whose loyalty and honor I could trust implicitly, and who were regarded as something sacred, deeming it an honor to wear it as being the pledge of my trust and esteem. Neil, sir Gervais, will I fasten this round your neck? Gervais took out the small brooch that fastened the color of his silken doublet, and then knelt on one knee. The girl fastened the clasp round his neck, and as he rose he hid the heart beneath his doublet, and fastened his collar. Lady Claudia, he said earnestly, I accept your favor and the spirit in which you bestow it, so long as I live I shall prize and value it beyond any honor I may gain, and as I feel it next to my heart, it will ever recall to me that you gave it me as a pledge of your esteem and trust, and I will strive to the utmost so to bear myself that I may be worthy of the gift. None of the others spoke while the little ceremony was being performed. Coreto glanced at the countess with an amused smile, but the latter looked aggrieved, and somewhat vexed. However, she made an effort to dispel the cloud on her face, and when Gervais, C. speaking, said, This has been a somewhat more serious business than I intended, sir Gervais, but do not think that I regret in any way the course it has taken. It is well for a maiden on the threshold of womanhood that she should place before herself a lofty ideal, and that she should entertain a warm feeling of friendship for one worthy of it. So also it is good for a young knight to know that he has the trust and confidence of a pure and innocent maiden. Such a knowledge will aid him to be and always true to the vows he has taken, and to remember always that he is bound to be not only a valiant knight of his order, but a sincere soldier of the cross. Then she went on more lightly. Have you heard, sir Gervais, that there is a question of making you a noble of Genoa? No indeed, Gervais replied in great surprise. Such an idea never entered into my thoughts. Nevertheless, I know that it was spoken of last night, and although it has not yet been finally settled, it will not be until the council meets this afternoon. I should not tell you if I did not think that it was as good as agreed upon, and I am pleased to be the first to whisper to you that it is intended to bestow upon you an honour that is jealously guarded and seldom granted, even to crowned heads, unless as a token of gratitude for some signal service done to the Republic. I should feel most honoured and most grateful, Countess, for so extraordinary a favour, did I feel that I had done any extraordinary action to merit it. There can be no doubt that the destruction of the corsairs has saved Genoa and all the maritime towns from immense loss by damage to their trade, and by rays that would have been made at various points on the coast, but I cannot see that the mere fact that we have destroyed their fleet merits any marked honour. They were caught in a trap and half of them burned, and this might have been done equally as well by the Sardinian fishermen unarmed and without our aid. As to the fighting, it was of small account. The first three craft we captured offered a much stouter resistance, and we lost two of our number, but in the other affair no knight was killed, or even seriously wounded, and believe me, Countess, I feel absolutely ashamed at the fuss that is made over it. It seems to me that I am a sort of imposter, obtaining credit under false pretenses. No man is a fair judge of his own actions, Sir Gervais, Pareto said. A man may believe himself a Solon, or a Roland, others may consider him as a fool, or an empty braggard, and it must be taken that the general opinion of the public is the judgment from which there is no appeal. It is not the mob of Genoa only who regard the services that you have rendered as extraordinary, but it is the opinion of the counsellors and authorities of the Republic, and of those who, like myself, have borne our share in warfare. That not only is the service great, but that it is due to the singular ability with which you, in command of only a single galley, have only destroyed or captured the fleet that threatened our commerce. As our counsellors, therefore, are competent judges, are unanimous in their opinion that you have deserved the highest honors that Genoa can bestow upon you, it is useless for you to set up your own opinion to the contrary. Take the good things that fall to you, Sir Gervais, and be thankful. It is seldom that men obtain more honors than they deserve, while it very often happens that they deserve far more than they obtain. Fortune has dialed us some share in every man's career, but when it is not once, but several times that a knight gains special credit for deeds he has performed, we may be sure that Fortune has less to do with the matter than his personal merits. Three times have you earned special credit. Upon the first occasion, the Grand Master, no mean judge of conduct and character, deemed you worthy of secular knighthood, an honor which has not, in my memory, been bestowed at Rhodes upon any young knight. On the second, you were promoted to the command of a galley, though never before has such a command been given to any, save knights of long experience, and now, for the third time, the counsellors of one of the greatest of Italian cities are about to do you honor. It is good to be modest, Sir Gervais, and it is better to underestimate the due over rates one's own merits, but it is not well to carry the feeling to an extreme. I am quite sure that in your case your disclaimer is wholly sincere and unaffected, but take my advice, accept the honors the world may pay you as not undeserved, determining only in your mind that if you deem them excessive, you will at least do all in your power to show that they are not ill bestowed. You will not, I trust, take my counsel amiss. On the contrary, Sir Fabricius, Gervais said warmly, I am really but a boy yet, though by good Fortune pushed strangely forward, and I am glad indeed to receive counsel from a knight of vastly greater experience than myself, and in future, however much I may be conscious in my own mind that anything I have done is greatly overrated. I will at least abstain from protest, and now count as I must pray you to excuse me. I know that Sir Ralph Harkor is before this coming down at the dockyard, waiting my coming to engage sailors. You will come tomorrow at the same time, I hope, Sir Gervais. As Claudius swore night, we have now acclaimed upon you, and for the short time that you remain here you must regard this as your home, although you must necessarily remain the guest of the dog. He is a fine young fellow indeed, Corretto said after Gervais had left. There is no affectation about his modesty, and he really considers that this success he has gained is solely a stroke of good fortune. Of course, I have been asking many questions about him of the young knights of his own leg, Harkor among them. They tell me that he is always in earnest in everything he undertakes. He is without a rival among the younger knights of the convent in his skill and arms, and for strength and activity in all exercises. He seems to care nothing for the ordinary amusements in which they join at roads, and for nine months was scarcely ever seen by those in the aburge, save when they gathered for meals. So continuously did he work to acquire a perfect command of Turkish. How thoroughly he succeeded is evident from the fact that he was able to live among the galley slaves without exciting any suspicion in their minds that he was other than he pretended to be a Syrian captive. That he is brave goes without saying, though perhaps no braver than the majority of his companions. The extraordinary thing about him is that although, as he himself says, little more than a boy, he has the coolness to plan, and the head to carry out schemes that would do credit to the most experienced captain. He is already a credit to the order, and should he live will assuredly rise to the highest offices in it, and may even die its grand master. In the stormy times that are coming on, there will be ample opportunities for him still further to distinguish himself and to fulfill the singular promise of his youth that he possesses great tact, as well as other qualities is shown by the enthusiasm with which his companions regard him. In no case among those whom I have spoken have I discerned the smallest jealousy of him. The tact that is needed to stand thus among fifty young knights, almost all his seers in age, will assuredly enable him later on to command the confidence and affectation of older men. When the other guests had left, and Coreto only remained, the countess turned to Claudia. You went too far, Claudia. I was willing when you asked me that you should bestow a favor upon him. Most young knights wear such a favor, which may be a sign of devotion, but which far more frequently is a piece of gallantry. In the case of a knight-hospitaler, it can only be the latter. It is in his case where he is a sign that he has so distinguished himself, that some maiden feels a pride that her gift should be carried into battle by him. And on his part, that he too is proud of the gift so bestowed by one whose good will he prizes. And that way I was willing that you should grant him your favor. But the manner in which you gave it was far more serious than the occasion warranted, and your promise to grant no similar favor to another as long as he lived. Surprised, and I may almost say, shocked me, you are according to our custom here, considered almost a woman, and had not surgerbes belonged to the religious order, and were he of a presuming disposition. He might well have gathered a meaning from your words far beyond what you intended, and have even entertained a presumptuous hope that you were not indifferent to his merits. In the present case, of course, no harm is done. Still, me thinks that it would be far better had the words been unspoken. Your cousin here will. I am sure agree with me. Coretto did not speak, but stood playing with his mustache, waiting for Claudius' reply. The girl had stood with downcast eyes while her mother was speaking. I only expressed what I felt, mother, she said after a pause. And I do not think that surgerbes' tritium is likely to misunderstand me. It seems to me that never among those whom I have met have I seen one so worthy. No praises can be higher than those with which my cousin has spoken of him. He has rescued him whom we fearly love from slavery. He has saved Genoa from great disaster, and many towns and villages from plunder and ruin. I do indeed feel proud that such a night should wear my gauge, and were there no other reason, I should be unwilling that, so long as he carried it. Another should possess a similar one for me. I am sure that surgerbes' will have felt that this was the meaning of my words. I wished him to see that it was not a favor lightly given by a girl who might, a few weeks hence, bestow a similar one upon another. But was a gauge seriously given of the honor in which I held him. Very well said Claudia, Coreto broke in before the countess could reply. I warrant me, the young knight will not misunderstand your gift, and that he will prize it highly and carry it nobly. He is not one of those who will boast of a favor and display it all times. And except perhaps to his friend Ralph Harcourt, I will wager he never tells a soul who was its donor. When Claudia shortly afterwards left the room, he said to the countess, excuse me for breaking in Agatha, but I felt that it was much better to agree with her, and not to make over much of the matter. She is just of an age to make someone a hero, and she could hardly have chosen a better subject for her worship. In the first place, he is a knight of Saint John. In the second, he is going away in a few days, perhaps tomorrow, and may never cross her path again. The thought of him will prevent her fancy from straying for a time, and keep her heart whole until you decide on a suitor for her hand. Nevertheless, I would rather that it had not been so. Claudia is not given to change, and this may last long enough to cause trouble when I bring forward the suitor you speak of. Well, in many case it might be worse, Coretto said philosophically, and then with a smile and answer to her look of inquiry, knights of the Order have ere now obtained release from their vows. Fabricious, the countess exclaimed in a shocked voice. Yes, I know Agatha, that the child is one of the richest heiresses in Italy, but for that very reason it needs not that her husband should have white possessions. In all other respects, you could wish for no better. He will assuredly be a famous knight. He is the sort of man to make her perfectly happy, and lastly, you know I cannot forget that I owe my liberation from slavery to him. At any rate, Agatha, as I said before, he may never cross her path again, and you may, a year or two hence, find her perfectly amenable to your wishes. End of Chapter 16 Read by Peter Strom in Cartagena, Colombia, on January 29, 2019 Chapter 17 of A Night of the White Cross by G. A. Hendy Chapter 17 Upon the following day, the dog requested Gervais to accompany him to a meeting of the Council. Upon entering the Grand Hall, he found not only the members of the Council assembled in their robes of office, but a large gathering of the nobles and principal citizens of Genoa. Together with the Knights of the Galley, whom under Ralph Harcourt's orders, Gervais found to his surprise drawn up in order across the hall. Here, in the name of the Republic, Battista Frecoso announced to him that, by the unanimous decision of the Council, he had been elected a noble of Genoa. An honor, he added, on only one or two previous occasions in the history of the Republic bestowed upon any but a princely rank, but which he had nobly earned by the great service he had rendered to the State. His name was then inscribed in the book containing the names and titles of the nobles of Genoa. Next, Battista Frecoso presented him with a superb suit of Milanese armor, as his own personal gift, and then with a casket of very valuable jewels, as the gift of the City of Genoa, each presentation was accompanied by the plaudits of the Assembly, and by the no less warm acclamations of the Knights. Ralph was then called forward and presented with a suit of armor, but little inferior to that given to Gervais, and each Knight received a heavy gold chain of the finest workmanship of Genoa. Two days later the preparations for departure were complete, and a sufficient number of men were engaged to man the prizes. This charge also Genoa took upon itself, and put on board much stronger crews than Gervais deemed necessary for the navigation of the ships. The weather was fine, and the wind favorable, and a quick passage was made to roads. When the harbor was in sight, the ships were ordered to proceed in single file, the galley leading the way with a huge banner of the order floating from her stern, and smaller flags on staffs at each side. It was not until they passed by the two forts guarding the entrance that the flags fluttering at the mastheads of the prizes afforded to those on shore, and intimation of the event that had taken place, and even then none suppose that this fleet of prizes had been taken by the one galley that headed them. As the Santa Barbara slowly rode up the harbor, the state barge of the Grand Master put off to meet it, and D'Obbison, with a party of knights, soon stepped on board. Welcome back, Sir Gervais, although I little expected to see you return so soon. What is the meaning of this procession that follows you? By their rig and appearance they are moors, but how they come to be thus sailing in your wake is a mystery to us all. They are moors, Your Excellency, they form part of an expedition fitted out by the Corsairs of Algiers, Tripoli, Tunis, and other preradical strongholds for the purpose of destroying the commerce and ravaging the coasts of western Italy. Fortunately we fell in with a ship that had been plundered by three of them on their way north, and learned from the dying captain, who was the only one of her crew left with life on board, the direction they were taking, and something of the nature of the expedition. We pursued the three galleys, came up with them, had the good fortune to capture them, and then had the delight of finding among their rowers, the noble knights, Abysius Carretto, Giacomo da Vinci, and Pietro Forzo. The grandmaster and the knights with him uttered an exclamation of joy, and as the three knights named stepped forward, embraced them with the liveliest pleasure. My dear Carretto, the grandmaster exclaimed, it is almost a resurrection for we have all long mourned you as dead, and your return to us at the present time is indeed fortunate for upon whose judgment and aid could I better rely than those of my old comrade in arms. Then, turning to Gervais, he went on. It was a daring and brilliant exploit indeed, Sir Gervais, and in due time honor shall be paid to you and your brave companions, to whom and to you I now tender the thanks of the order, but tell me the rest briefly, for I would faint here from these noble knights, and old friends the story of what has befallen them. My tale is a very brief one, Your Highness. The Cavalier Carretto sailed at once in a swift craft from the south of Sardinia to carry warnings to the cities on the coast of Italy of the danger that threatened them, and in order that some war galleys might be dispatched by Genoa to meet the Corsair fleet. During his absence we discovered the little inlet in which the pirates lay hidden, waiting doubtless the arrival of the three ships we had captured, to commence operations. On the return of the knight with the news that it would be at least a fortnight before Genoa could fit out any galleys, and fearing that the pirates might at any moment put to sea, we procured some small Sardinian craft, and fitted them as fire ships. With the captives we had rescued, and some Sardfishermen we manned the three prizes, distributing the knights between them, and at night launched the fire ships against the Corsairs, whose ships were crowded together, eleven of them were burned, six we captured as they endeavored to make their way out, and took possession of four others whose crews had run them ashore and deserted them. None escaped. Exclamations of astonishment and almost of incredulity broke from the knights. And is it possible, sir Gervais, that these thirteen vessels that follow you are all prizes captured by your galley alone? It is as I have the honor to tell your highness, but their capture, except in the case of the first three, was due almost solely to good fortune, and to the position in which we found them, almost incapable of defense. What thank you, knights and comrades, the Grandmaster said to his companions, there were some of you who deemed it rash to entrust a galley to so young a commander, and so youthful a crew. What say you now, never in the annals of the order, has such a sight been witnessed as that of thirteen prizes being brought in by a single galley? To say not of eleven others destroyed. Corretto, you and your comrades must have had some share in this marvelous victory. By no means, the Italian replied, beyond having the honor of aiding to carry out the orders of sir Gervais Trisham, the commander of the galley. The plan was wholly of his own devising, its execution solely due to his arrangement of the details, and that without the slightest suggestion on the part of myself or my comrades, I will presently narrate to you the whole story. It will come better from my lips than from those of sir Gervais, whose disposition is to wholly underestimate the merit of the action he has performed. But I must also bear testimony, not only to the bravery displayed by sir Gervais, sir Ralph Harcourt, his lieutenant, and every one of the knights, his crew, but to the admirable discipline, order, and good fellowship on board the galley, which would have done credit to the most experienced commander and to the most veteran knights of the order. The grandmaster paused a moment, and then said in a loud voice, sir Gervais Trisham, sir Ralph Harcourt, and knights of the seven lengths of the order, as yet I can hardly appreciate the full extent of the service that you have rendered. I thank you but now for the capture of three corsairs. But what can I say when I learn that you have destroyed, or taken, a whole fleet? I invite you all to a banquet that I shall hold tonight, where the cavalier caretto will relate to us all the details of this marvelous exploit. Within a few minutes after the return of the grandmaster at his party ashore, the flags of the order were run up to the flagstaffs of every fort in Bastion. The bells of the churches chimed out a triumph of appeal, and a salute was fired from the guns of the three water forts, while along the wall facing the port, the townspeople waved numberless gay flags as a welcome to the galle. Most of the knights went ashore at once, but Gervais, under the excuse that he wished to see that everything was in order before landing, remained on board until it was time to go to the banquet, being sure that by that time the knights would have fully told a story at their respective aversions, and that there would be no more questions to answer. The banquet differed but little from that at Genoa, and Gervais was heartily glad when it was over. The next day the grandmaster sent for him. If I judge rightly, sir Gervais, the thing that will best please you at present is an order to put to sea again at once, to conclude the usual period of service of the galle. It is indeed, Gervais replied earnestly, but I should be glad, sir, if you will allow that the time should begin to count afresh from our present start. We have really had but a short period of service, for we wasted a week at Genoa, and ten days on our journey back here, so that we have had really no more than a month's active service. Yes, if you count only by time, Diabasin said with a smile, reckoning by results you have done a good five years' cruise, however, so small a request can certainly be granted. The places of the two knights who were killed, and of four others whose wounds are reported to me as being too severe for them to be fit for service for some time, shall be filled up at once from the lands to which each belonged. You will cruise among the western islands, once complaints have reached us of a corsair who has been plundering and burning. Sometimes he is heard of as far north as Nigrapont, at others he is off the coast of the Moria. Then again we hear of him among the Cyclades. We have been unwilling to dispatch another galley, for there is an ample employment for everyone here. After the blow you have struck on the Moorish Corsairs, they are likely to be quiet for a little. You had best therefore try for a time if you cannot come across this pirate. You must let me know how much you paid for the vessels you used as fire ships, and to the sards. This is an expense chargeable to the general service. I may tell you that to me it is due that no recognition of your exploits, such as that which Genoa bestowed upon you will be made. At the council this morning it was urged that some signal mark of honour should be granted, but I interposed, saying that you had already received exceptional promotion, and that it would not be for your good, or that of the order for so young a knight to be raised to an official position of a character usually held by seniors, and that I was perfectly sure you would prefer remaining in command of your galley to any promotion whatever that would retain you on the island. Indeed I should, Your Highness. I wish to gain experience, and to do service to the order, and so far from pleasing me, promotion would trouble and distress me. And could it have been done, I would most gladly have sent home the prizes, instead of going to Genoa, and would myself have continued the cruise. So Cavalier Carretto told me, the Grand Master replied, Very well then, in three days you shall set out again. The admiral tells me that never before has a galley returned with the slaves in such good health and condition, and that unquestionably your plan of erecting an awning to shelter them from the midday heat, and the night dues has had a most beneficial effect on their health. He has recommended its general adoption. Three days later the Santa Barbara again left port, and was soon upon her station. For some weeks she cruised backwards and forwards along the coast, and among the islands. They often heard of the pirate ship, but all their efforts to find her were unavailing. One evening there were signs of a change of weather, and by morning it was blowing a furious gale from the north. In spite of the efforts of the rowers, the galley narrowly escaped being driven ashore, but she at last gained the shelter of an island, and anchored under its lee, the slaves being utterly worn out by continuous exertion. As soon as the gale abated they again put to sea, and after proceeding for some miles, saw a ship cast up on ashore. Some people could be made out on board of her, and a white flag was raised. She must have been driven ashore during the gale, Gervais said. We will row into within a quarter of a mile of her and see what we can do for them. As soon as the anchor was dropped a boat was lowered. I will go myself, Ralph, for I shall be glad to set my foot on shore again. There must be people on the island. I wondered none of them had come to the aid of those poor fellows. I suppose the villages are on the other side of the island, and they have not yet heard of the wreck. Gervais asked three of the knights to accompany him, and the boat, rode by galley slaves, was soon on its way. All were glad at the change afforded to the monotony of their life on board, and at the prospect of a scamper on shore. There were but five or six men to be seen on the deck of the wreck, and these had, as the boat approached, come down to the rocks as if to meet those who came to their aid. But as the knights leapt out, they threw themselves suddenly upon them with knives and scimitaries that had hitherto been concealed beneath their garments, while at the same moment a crowd of men appeared on the deck of the ship, and leaping down ran forward with drawn swords. Two of the knights fell dead before they had time to draw their weapons. The third shook off his two assailants, and for a minute kept them both at bay, but others rushing up cut him down. Gervais had received a slight wound before he realized what was happening. He snatched his dagger from its sheath, and struck down one assailant, but ere he could raise it to strike again, another leapt onto his back, and clung there until the rest rushed up. When he shouted, Take him alive, take him alive, and throwing down their weapons, half a dozen of the pirates flung themselves upon Gervais, and strove to pull him to the ground, until at last, in spite of his desperate resistance, they succeeded in doing so. His armor was hastily stripped off, his hands and feet bound, and then at the order of the pirate who had leapt on his back, and who was evidently the captain, half a dozen men lifted him onto their shoulders. As they did so, four guns from the galley flashed out, and the balls flew overhead. The pirates who had already begun to quarrel over the armor and arms of the fallen knights, at once took to their heels, followed by the galley slaves from the boat. Make haste, the captain said to the men carrying Gervais. They are lowering their boat. We must be underway before they come up. In a minute or two, Gervais was set down on his feet. The cords around his legs were cut, and he was made to hurry along with his captors. In a short time an inlet was reached, and here Gervais saw, to his mortification, the pirate craft for which the Santa Barbara had in vain been searching. As soon as the party were all on board, the ropes by which she was lured to two trees were thrown off. The great sails hoisted, and she sailed boldly out, although the gale had entirely abated. There was still a brisk wind blowing, and it was evident to the captain of the corsair that under such circumstances he could out sail the galley that had long been searching for him. When, therefore, the Santa Barbara came in sight, just as he and his crew had finished stripping the wreck of its contents, the idea had occurred to him to attempt to entice some of the knights to land. As soon as the vessel was underway, he abused his followers hotly for not having obeyed his orders to capture the knights without bloodshed, but they pleaded that it was as much as they had been able to do to capture Gervais in that way, and that they could never have overcome the four together, before the boats would have had time to come from the ship. Gervais had been told to sit down with his back to a mast, and in this position he could, when the vessel healed over to the breeze, obtain a view of the sea. It was with a feeling of bitter mortification and rage that he saw the galley lying but half a mile away as the corsair issued from the inland. A moment later, he heard a gun fired and saw the signal hoisted to recall the boats. If the wind had been favorable, the captain said to his mate, we would have borne down upon her and could have reached and captured her before the boats got back, for you may be sure that they have landed almost all their men. However, we can't get there against the wind, and we will now say goodbye to them. Gervais knew well that at the pace they were running through the water, the galley would have no chance whatever of overtaking her, and that ere the knights came on board again, she would be already two or three miles away. A point of land soon concealed the galley from view, and when he caught sight of her as she rounded the point, she was but a speck in the distance. They passed several islands in the course of the day, changing their direction to a right angle to that which they had at first pursued, as soon as they were hidden from the site, the galley, by an intervening island. As night came on they anchored in a little bay on the coast of Moria. The sails being furled, the sailors made a division of the booty they had captured on the island, and of the portable property found on board the wreck. A gourd full of water was placed to Gervais' lips by one of the men of a kinder disposition than the rest. He drank it thankfully, for he was parched with thirst, excited by the pain caused by the tightness with which he had been bound. He slept where he sat. All night four men remained on guard, although from what he heard they had no fear whatever of being overtaken, and the morning his arms were unbound, and they stripped off his tunic and shirt. They had evidently respect for his strength, for before loosing his arms they tightly fastened his ankles together. The removal of his shirt exposed Claudius' gift to view. Take that from him and give it to me, the captain said. As the two men approached, Gervais seized one in each hand, dashed them against each other, and hurled them on the deck, but the exertion upset his equilibrium, and after making a vain attempt to recover it, he fell heavily across them. The captain stooped over him, and before he could recover himself, snatched the chain from his neck. You are a stout fellow, he said laughing, and will make a fine slave. What have you got here that you are ready to risk your life for? He looked at the little chain and its pendant with an air of disappointment. Tis worth but little, he said, showing it to his mate. I would not give five ducats for it in the market. It must be a charm, or a knight would never carry it about with him and prize it so highly. It may be to things like this the Christians owe their luck. It has not brought him luck this time, the mate observed with a laugh. Even a charm cannot always bring good luck, but at any rate I will try it, and he put it around his neck just as Gervais had worn it. The latter was now unbound and permitted to move about the deck, the strength he had shown in the struggle on shore, and the manner in which he had hurled, bound as he was two of their comrades to the deck, had won for him the respect of his captors, and he was therefore allowed privileges, not granted to the seamen of the vessel that had had the ill fortune to be cast on shore so close to the spot where the corsair was hiding. These had been seized, driven to the ship, and having been stripped of the greater portion of their clothes, shut down in the hold. Although angry that but one out of the four who landed had been captured, the captain was in a good humor having tricked his redoubtable foes, and was disposed to treat Gervais with more consideration than was generally given to captors. The latter had not spoken a word of Turkish from the time he was captured, and had shaken his head when first addressed in that language. No suspicion was therefore entertained that he had any knowledge of it, and the Turks conversed freely before him. Where thank you, we had better sell him, the mate asked the captain, when Gervais was leaning against the bulwark, watching the land, a short quarter of a mile away. He ought to fetch a good ransom. Aye, but who would get it? You know how it was with one that Ibrahim took two years ago. First there was months of delay, then when the ransom was settled, the Pasha took four-fifths of it for himself, and Ibrahim got far less than he would have done had he sold him as a slave. The Pashas here, and the Sultans of the Moors, are all alike. If they once meddle in an affair, they take all the profit, and think they do well by giving you a tithe of it. There are plenty of wealthy Moors who are ready to pay well for a Christian slave, especially when he is a good-looking young fellow such as this. He will fetch as much as all those eight sailors below. They are only worth their labor, while this youngster will command a fancy price. I know it doesn't reach Moors in triply your tunas, who would be glad to have him. And we agreed that we would run down to the African coast for a while, for that galley has been altogether too busy of late for our comfort, and will be all the more active after this little affair. Besides, people in these islands have got so scared that one can't get within ten miles of any of them now, without seeing their signal smokes rising on the hills, and finding when they land that the village is deserted and stripped of everything worth carrying away. This news was a disappointment to Gervais. He had calculated that he would be sold at one of the Levant ports, and had thought that with his knowledge of Turkish he should have no great difficulty in escaping from any master into whose hands he might fall, and taking his chance of either seizing a fishing boat, or of making his way in a trading ship to some district where the population was a mixed one, and where trade was winked at between the merchants there, and those at some of the Greek towns. To escape from Tunis or Tripoli would be far more difficult. There, too, he would be beyond the reach of the good offices of Sully Manali, who would, he was sure, have done all in his power to bring about his release. Of one thing he was determined, he would not return to Rhodes without making every possible effort to recover Claudius Gage, as he considered it absolutely incumbent on him as a knight to guard, as something sacred, a gift so bestowed. The fancy of the Corsair to retain the jewel as a charm he regarded as a piece of the greatest good fortune. Had it been thrown among the common spoil, he would never have known to which of the crew it had fallen at the division. Still less have traced what become of it afterwards, whereas now, for some time at any rate, it was likely to remain in the captain's possession. Had it not been for that, he would have attempted to escape at the first opportunity, and such an opportunity could not fail to present itself ere long, for he had but to manage to possess himself of Muslim garments, to be able to move about unquestioned in any Turkish town. When it became dark, he was shut up in the hold, which was he found crowded with captives, as in addition to the crew of the wreck, between forty and fifty Greeks, for the most part boys and young girls had been carried off from the villages plundered. It was pitch dark below, although the scuttle had been left open in order to allow a certain amount of air to reach the captives. Gervais, therefore, felt his way about cautiously, and laid down as soon as he found a clear space, save an occasional moan or curse in the panting of those suffering from the heat and closeness of the crowded hold. All was still. The majority of the captives had been some time in their floating prison, and their first poignant grief had settled down into a dull and despairing acceptance of their fate. The sailors, newly captured, had for hours raved and cursed, but worn out by their struggle with the elements, and their rage and grief they had now fallen asleep. It was long before Gervais dozed off. He was furious with himself for having fallen into the trap. If he had, as he said to himself, lain off the beach in the boat, and questioned the supposed shipwrecked sailors, their inability to reply to him would have at once put him on his guard. As it was, he had walked into the cenera as carelessly and confidently as a child might have done. Even more than his own captivity, he regretted the death of his three comrades, which he attributed to his own one of care. The next morning he was again allowed on deck. The vessel was under way, and her head was pointing south. To his surprise, some of the crew gave him a friendly greeting. He was unable to understand a manner so at variance with their hatred to the Christians, until one of them said to him in a mixture of Greek and Italian, We have heard from our countrymen, who were in the boat with you, that they received much kindness at your hands, and that of all the Christians they had served under, you were the kindest master. Therefore it is but right. Now Allah has decreed that you in turn should be a slave to the true believers, that you should receive the same mercy you gave to Muslims when they were in your power. The captain came up as the man was speaking. He talked for a time to the sailor, who then turned again to Gervais. The captain says that he is told that you were the commander of that galley. He has questioned the eight men separately, and they all tell this same story. And yet he cannot understand how so young a man should command a galley, manned by warriors famous for their deeds of arms, even among us who are their foes. This galley was an exception, Gervais replied. The knights on board were all young, as they could be better spared than those more experienced, at a time when your saltine is known to be preparing for an attack on roads. The captain was silent for a minute, when this was interpreted to him. He had at the time noticed and wondered at the youth of the four knights, and the explanation seemed to him a reasonable one. I wish I had known it, he said after a pause, for had I done so I would have thought and captured her yesterday. I have have a mind to go back and seek her now. He called up one of the ex-slaves who was a native of Tripoli, and who had now taken his place as a member of the crew, and asked him a number of questions. Gervais felt uncomfortable while the man was answering. Fortunately his rowers had agreed to say nothing whatever of the destruction of the Corsair fleet, of which no word had as yet reached the pirates, deeming that, in their anger at the news, the pirates might turn upon them for the part that they had, however involuntarily, born in it. As soon as he perceived that the captain entertained the idea of returning to engage the galleon, the man felt that if he were to avoid a return into captivity, he must deter him from taking such a step. He therefore, in answer to his questions as to the strength of the crew of the galleon, and the fighting powers of the knights, reported the capture of the three vessels. The captain listened, almost incredulously, to his statement, and calling up another two of the men, questioned them also as to the occurrence. Having heard them, he turned away and paced the deck, in evident anger, however he gave no instructions for a change of course, and to the great satisfaction of the eight rescued slaves, the vessel continued her course southward. As they neared the African coast, Gervais kept an eager lookout, in hopes that Visconti's galley might appear in sight. The captain's temper had not recovered from the effect of the news of the capture of three Moorish vessels by the galley commanded by Gervais, and the latter, seeing the mood he was in, kept forward so as to avoid coming in contact with him. He had early taken the opportunity of saying to one of the released galley slaves, I pray you, if you have any feeling of kindness towards me for the efforts I made to alleviate your condition, say no word of my knowledge of Turkish, and ask the others also to remain silent on this point. The man had nodded, and the request was observed by them all. The captain's irritation showed itself in his treatment of the other captives. These were brought up every day from the hold, and kept on deck until dark, as the price they would fetch in the slave market in Tripoli would depend greatly upon their health and appearance. But when the captain came near them, he several times struck them brutally, if they happened to be in his way. Gervais had the greatest difficulty in restraining his indignation, and indeed only did so because he felt that his interference would but make things worse for them. When at last the ship cast anchor off Tripoli, the captain ordered the boats to be lowered. As he walked towards the gangway, he happened to push against one of the captives, a Greek girl of some ten years of age. With an angry exclamation he struck her to the deck. Gervais sprang forward. You brute! he exclaimed in English. I have a good mind to throw you overboard, and will do so the next time you strike one of these children without cause. Infuriated by Gervais' interference and threatening attitude, the corsair drew his long knife. But before he could strike, Gervais caught his wrist. The knife fell from his hand, and Gervais kicked it through the open gangway into the sea. The captain shouted to his men to seize the Christian, but the young knight's blood was up now. The first man who came at him he seized by the sage round his waist, and threw overboard. The two next he stretched on the deck with blows from his clenched fist. Some of the others now drew their weapons, but the captain shouted to them to sheave them. Fools! he yelled. Is it not enough that your cowardice has already cost us lives of three knights whose capture would have brought us a big sum? Throw him down and bind him. What are fifty of you afraid of, one unarmed man? No wonder these Christians capture our ships, if this is the metal of our crews. Goded by his words, the men made a general rush upon Gervais, and in spite of his desperate efforts threw him onto the deck and bound him. Then the captain, seizing a heavy stick in his left hand, his right being still powerless, showered blows upon him until Gervais almost lost consciousness. Throw some water over the dog, the coarser said as he threw down the stick, panting with his exertions, and then without waiting to see if his order was obeyed, he took his place in the boat and was rode ashore. As soon as he had left three or four of the ex-galley slaves carried Gervais into the shade of the sail. The sailors, several of whom bore signs of the late struggle, looked on sullenly, but offered no opposition when the men took off the ropes and raised him into a sitting posture against the mast. He had not entirely lost consciousness, and was now fast recovering himself. Is there anything we can do for you? one of the men asked in Italian. No, I shall soon be all right again, although I am bruised all over and shall be stiff for a day or two. You had best lead me now, for you will incur the enmity of these fellows. Gervais was indeed bruised from his neck to his heels, even in his passion the pirate had afforded striking him on the head, as a disfiguring mark on the face would diminish his value. Sitting there he congratulated himself that he had been beaten with a stick and not with a whip. A stick is a weapon, and he did not feel the same sense of dishonor that he would have experienced had he been beaten with a whip. That such might be his slot in slavery he recognized. The backs of Coretto and his two companions were seamed with the marks inflicted by the gangmaster's whip, and he could scarce hope to escape the same treatment. But at present he hardly felt a slave. There was another reflection that to some extent mitigated the pain of his bruises. The pirate captain held his treasured gauge, and it was his thick determination to recover it. The man had at first in a rough way treated him fairly, and had allowed him more liberty than the other captives, and he would have felt reluctant to take extreme measure against him to recover the gauge. Now he was not only free from any sense of obligation, but had a heavy score to settle with him. After a time he got up and walked stiffly and painfully up and down the deck, knowing that this was the best plan to prevent the limbs from stiffening. The corsair did not return until night set in. He was accompanied by an Arab, whose dress and appearance showed that he was a person of importance. The other slaves had all been sent below, but Gervais still remained on deck as the mate had not cared to risk another conflict by giving him orders in the absence of the captain. As the pirate stepped on deck he ordered some torches to be brought. This is the Christian I spoke of, he said to the Arab, pointing to Gervais who was leaning carelessly against the bulwark. He is, as you see, capable of hard work of any kind. His strength is prodigious, for it took ten of my best men to bind him this morning. Why did you wish to bind him? the Arab asked coldly. You told me that although so strong, he was of a quiet disposition, and would make a good household slave. I struck a slave girl who stood in my way, the captain said, and he came at me so suddenly that I had to call upon the men to bind him. He threw one of them overboard and with his naked hands knocked down two others, and as I have told you it took all the efforts of eight or ten more before they could overcome him. The Arab took a torch from one of the sailors, walked across to Gervais who was naked from the waist upwards, his upper garments having been torn into shreds in the struggle, and examined him closely. And then you beat him, he said, turning to the captain. Certainly I beat him. Do you think that a slave is to mutiny on board my ship, and escape unpunished? The Arab, without replying, again inspected Gervais. You ask a large sum for him, he said. I should ask twice as much, the captain replied. If it were not for the regulation that one slave from each cargo brought in belongs to the saltan, and his officers would as a matter of course choose this fellow, for the others are merely such as are sold in the market every day. This man is one of the accursed order of roads, and would fetch a ransom many times greater than the sum I asked for him. Only I have not the time to wait for months until the affair could be arranged. And moreover, Hassan, the Arab said, it has doubtless not escaped you, that as the saltan of Turkey is fitting out an expedition to destroy the community of roads, the chance of their ransoming their comrade is a very slight one. Threatened men live long, the captain said. The saltan has been talking of attacking them for years, and something has always happened to prevent his carrying out his intention. It may be the same again. I will take him, the Arab said shortly. Here is a purse with the sum you named. Count it, and see that it is right. As he stood apart while the pirate counted out the money, the eight released slaves came up in a body, and one of them, bowing low before the merchant, said, My lord, we have long been slaves of the Christian knights at roads, and have worked in their galleys. We were rescued the other day when this night was taken prisoner. Our life has been a hard one. We have borne toil and hardship and blows, the heat of the sun by day, and the damp by night. But we would humbly represent to you that since we were placed in the galley commanded by this night, our lot has been made bearable by his humanity and kindness. He erected an awning to shade us from the sun's rays, and to shelter us from the night dews. He provided good food for us. He saw that we were not worked beyond our strength, and he forbade us being struck unless for good cause. Therefore, my lord, now that misfortune has fallen upon him, we venture to represent to you the kindness with which he has treated us, in the hope that it may please you to show him such mercy as he showed to us. You have done well, the Arab said, and your words shall not be forgotten. When you land tomorrow inquire for the house of Isaac bin Ebin, you are daftless penniless, and I may be able to obtain employment for those of you who may stop at Tripoli, and to assist those who desire to take passage to their home's elsewhere. We are commanded to be grateful to those who befriend us, and as you have shown yourselves to be so, it is right that I, an humble servant of the great one, should in his name reward you, motioning to Gervais to follow him, the Arab stepped into his boat. Gervais turned to the man, and said in Italian, Thanks, my friends, you have well discharged any debt that you may thank you, Omi. Will you tell that villain? And he pointed to the captain threatening me. I warn him that someday I will kill him like a dog. Then turning, he stepped into the bow of the boat, and the two men who rode it at once pushed off. End of chapter 17, read by Peter Strom in Cartagena, Colombia, on January 30th, 2019.