The Hundred Days (29 page)

‘Dr Maturin,’ she said without any change of
expression or tone that he could detect, ‘I wish I could oblige you, but
children are my husband’s aversion, his absolute aversion: he cannot bear
them.’

‘I am told that it is often the case with men.’

‘It is like some people with cats: he cannot
tolerate them anywhere in the house. But if, as I suppose, from their origin
and from what you say, they are Roman Catholics, then I believe the
Redemptorist Fathers are the people to apply to.’

‘Many thanks, your ladyship,’ said Stephen, rising.
‘My compliments wait on Sir Peter.’

Outside, cheerfully greeted by his slaves, who
showed him a palm-frond torn from the tree, he saw with great satisfaction that
Jacob had retained the carriage. ‘I came on a fool’s errand,’ he said. ‘Lady
Clifford does not choose to house the children. I was truly astonished at her
frankness.’

‘Were you, though?’ asked Jacob, looking at him
curiously. ‘Nevertheless, we shall be perfectly happy at our lodging-house: but
I am sorry for your disappointment.’

It was a disappointment, however, and it shook his
faith in his own judgement to a remarkable degree. He sent a note excusing
himself from dinner and spent a pleasant evening feeding the children -
ingenuous little creatures - with Fatima. Jacob was away, visiting
a Lebanese cousin who also dealt in gem-stones, though on a much larger scale,
and in negotiating loans. Coming back when Stephen was in bed, he asked him
whether he was asleep. ‘I am not,’ said Stephen.

‘Then let me tell you that my cousin has had news
that Ibn Hazm’s caravan began its return only yesterday. It is difficult
country and they will need ten days to reach Azgar, let alone the little port
whose name escapes me.’

‘Arzila, I think.’

‘Arzila indeed: so with our blessed days of grace,
I believe we have a fortnight and to spare.’

‘That is very good news indeed: I rejoice.’

‘And Abdul Reis, the head of one of the corsair
groups, says that the wind will diminish tomorrow. If we like to see some of
his galleys we should be welcome at the inner harbour, but quite early in the
day, because if the wind does as he thinks it will, he may set out for Sardinia before noon. There are advantages in
being well-seen by the Dey.’

‘Certainly. Listen, Amos: ‘did you
ever read an author who said “Never underestimate a woman’s capacity for
jealousy, however illogical or inconsistent or indeed self-defeating”?’

‘I do not think so: but the notion is fairly
wide-spread among those who think of men and women as belonging to two
different nations; and who wish to be profound.’

Nevertheless, Lady Clifford’s behaviour puzzled
Stephen, and until he fell asleep he turned and re-turned it in his mind, with
no satisfactory answer at all. He was awakened at dawn, not by any of the usual
noises of a disorderly house nor by Dr Jacob’s steady,
persevering snore, but by a little girl’s voice in his ear, asking whether
there were any cows to be milked.

There were not, but there was water to be drawn
with Fatima’s help, faces to be
washed, prayers to be said, and a perfectly delightful breakfast to be eaten -
bananas and dates amazed the children - in a little hidden court behind: soft
bread toasted on the brazier that at some distance kept the coffee warm -
toasted and spread with honey. ‘Are you not cold, children, with nothing but
shirts?’ he asked.

‘Not at all; and they are not just ordinary shirts
but proper clothes: Achmet, though quite old, has nothing else,’ they replied.
‘Here is the other gentleman. Good morning, sir:  God be with you.’

Jacob gave them a Hebrew blessing, drank a great
draught of coffee, and said to Stephen, ‘When you had gone to bed, a parcel
came for you. I did not choose to wake you, but there it is in our room. I
shall bring it down as soon as I am more nearly myself. How very much better
these children look after a night’s sleep: you could hardly mistake them for
half-starved apes any more.’

In a little while, his good nature returning, Jacob
fetched the parcel, forwarded from the consulate: hardly a parcel in the
western sense - no paper, no string, but a sombrely gorgeous robe lapped about
with silk scarves enveloping the rifle with which Stephen had killed his
lioness. Attached to it was a letter with the Vizier’s elegant explanation of a
mistake among the people of the baggage-train, his well-turned apologies and
his hope that if the loss had been mentioned to his present Highness, the
return might also be noticed. And after the European signature came a far more
beautiful passage of Arabic. ‘Please would you read this for me?’ asked
Stephen.

‘It is a blessing, a series of blessings on you and
yours, mentioning many of the attributes of God, the Merciful, the
Compassionate... My impression is that the Vizier was so sure that his friend
Mustafa would be elected that he could do whatever he chose to do with
impunity; and that he has now delivered himself to you, bound hand and foot.’

Stephen considered, nodded, and then, bringing out
another paper he said, ‘And may I beg you to read this as well?’

‘It acknowledges receipt of four English gold coins
of adequate weight in payment for two young Franks, male and female, warranted
virgin: it is dated, sealed and signed in due form.’

‘Thank you: I did not want them to be snatched
away, reclaimed: they have had quite enough to bear as it is.’ He looked with
intense admiration at his rifle for a while and then asked when they were to
meet Abdul Reis, the corsair.

‘We could go whenever you choose. The inner harbour
is only a few steps from the Gate of Woe.’

‘Then the children can come too. I shall confide
this to the good Fatima’s care’ - tapping the wrapped-up gun - ‘and then
we can go.’

The street was extremely narrow and the balconies
almost touched overhead: parts of it were encumbered with sheep, goats,
horsemen, and Algerine children playing a game that required a great deal of
running and screeching. Many of them looked remarkably like Mona and Kevin, who
were of the black-haired Irish, and they wore the same kind of tunics. Then,
working past three heavily-laden and exceptionally ill-natured camels, Stephen,
Jacob and the children were suddenly through the gate, and there was the great
sky above them and the sea stretching away and away, windwhitened still, but
much less so. And just this side of its northern limit, Ringle beating in for
the shore, just visible from the inner harbour’s wall, and recognizable to one
who knew her very well.

The children shied extremely at the sight of the
galleys that filled the inner port; they fell silent, and each grasped one of
Stephen’s hands. The Reis, a formidable great redbearded figure, was markedly
affable to Jacob, showing him the arrangement and the ordering of his handsome
craft: he would almost certainly set out for Sardinia when the sailmaker brought
the new lateen.

‘They do not mean to row, then?’ asked Stephen,
when this had been explained to him.

‘Oh no: they only use their oars when the wind does
not serve: at present it serves perfectly for any voyage to a little north of
east, to north itself, and a little north of west, particularly as the seas are
diminishing every half hour.’

‘Dear Amos, pray ask him whether that vessel on the
horizon that is turning so valiantly into the wind will eventually reach this
port.’

Jacob’s question to the Reis was interrupted by the
coming of the coal-black sailmaker with two pale Sclavonians, lightly chained
but heavily burdened; but eventually, when the new lateen was bent to its long,
long tapering yard, Abdul looked out to sea, smiled at the sight of her coming
about so briskly on the larboard tack, and said, ‘The little American schooner-  I have seen her before, the frigate’s tender:
yes, with the wind lessening like this, she may get in by moonrise - in the
early part of the night at all events.’

Stephen said, ‘Jacob, if I do not mistake, she will
soon be almost exactly in the galley’s path, steering for Sardinia: if the Reis would put us
aboard her I will give him any sum you think proper. These few hours are so
very precious.’

‘I am so nearly certain of it that I shall hurry
back, settle with Fatima, and bring our belongings,’ said Jacob. He made
the request, with joined hands, received an amiable smile, and hurried away.

Orders, cries, in much the same peremptory tone
usual in the Royal Navy but sometimes with an additional Moorish howl; and as
soon as Jacob, helped by Achmet, had put their 
meagre luggage aboard, the galley began its smooth glide towards the
harbour’s mouth: the silent children stood pressed against Stephen’s side, for
although this was not a raiding voyage with the galley full of boarders but an
ordinary mercantile carrying and fetching of goods, the diminished crew was
still made up of right corsairs, for whom an habitual brutish ferocity of
expression was as much a part of their equipment as the knives and pistols in
their belts.

The open sea. The Reis put the helm
amidships, loosed the sheet and attended to Jacob’s further explanation. His
red beard opened in a laugh and he said, ‘If your friend will guarantee that
the schooner will not fire upon us, I will put you aboard for the love of God.’

When this was relayed to him, Stephen bowed
repeatedly to the Reis and said to Jacob, ‘Could I
climb on to some eminence and wave, let us say a handkerchief, when we are
nearer, to show our peaceable intent?’

‘By all means, if you can
find a suitable eminence and remain firmly attached to it in spite of all this
heinous pitching.’

Stephen gazed about the unfamiliar rigging: there
was a sort of box abaft the masthead, but there seemed no way up to it but
levitation. The shrouds, to be sure, had ratlines so that one could climb, as
on a ladder, but there was a shocking gap between the topmost ratline and the
box, practicable perhaps for an ape or a hardened corsair, but not for a doctor
of physic. ‘I shall stand in the prow, watching with my pocket-glass, and when
we are close enough, I shall make antic gestures.’

The bows of a galley running before the wind did
not prove much of a vantage-point, particularly as the children, who would not
be left, tangled themselves in the woolded bumpkin; so all three wedged
themselves fairly comfortably along what forward rail the galley possessed, and
Stephen showed them the wonders of his little telescope. This occupied them
until the two vessels were so close that he could distinctly make out William
Reade’s gleaming steel hook holding him to the starboard shrouds of Ringle’s
foremast. Stephen inwardly prayed that nothing might go wrong now, and waved
his handkerchief: the young master’s mate standing behind the schooner’s
captain with a much more powerful glass, instantly reported this and Reade
waved back. Stephen told the children to stand up - their presence would
explain the situation - and only by the grace of God did he prevent them from
tumbling into the sea as the galley pitched. However their good stout shirts
held fast and he hauled them in, gasping and ashamed.

The tedious hours that had dragged by with so
little apparent gain since the morning suddenly hastened their pace - faces
could be seen and recognized, voices heard. Stephen hurried aft, untied his
parcel, wrapped the gun in some shirts and a pair of long woollen drawers and
clasped the Vizier’s gorgeous robe to his bosom. As the two vessels kissed
gently together, the Ringles made the galley fast and thrust across a brow for
their unreliable surgeon, who, before venturing upon it, crabwise with a child
in each hand, presented the splendid garment to Abdul with a flow of heartfelt
thanks, translated by Jacob.

‘Why, sir, and here you are!’ cried Reade, hehving
him in-board. ‘How very happy I am to see you, and how happy the Commodore will
be. He has been fairly eating his heart out in Mahon. Good-bye, sir,’ - this to
Abdul Reis - ‘and many, many thanks to you and your beautiful galley.’

These last words and the Reis’s reply were lost as
the two vessels separated, Ringle heading for Minorca and the galley for Sardinia, but they went on waving
until they were out of sight.

‘These children,’ said Stephen, ‘are Mona and Kevin
Fitzpatrick, from Munster - Mona, make
your bob to the Captain: Kevin, make your leg.’ This in
Irish. ‘And corsairs picked them up in a boat off the coast, carried
them back and sold them in the slave-market here. I bought them, and

I mean to send them home in the next ship commanded
by a friend and bound for the Cove of Cork. As soon as we are aboard Surprise
Poll will look after them: but where can we stow them here? And what can we
feed them on?’

‘Oh, we have plenty of milk, fresh eggs and
vegetables - well, fairly fresh, we having beaten into this hellish wind so
long: but edible - and as for sleeping, we will sling a cot in the cabin: these
two will fit into it with room to spare.’

‘Perhaps they could now be given something in the
galley, and be shown the heads. I perceive a certain
uneasiness familiar to me from my youth.’

‘By all means,’ said Reade. ‘Do they speak
English?’

‘Scarcely a word; but they have picked up a
surprising amount of Arabic,’ said Stephen, looking at Jacob, who nodded.

‘Then I shall pass the word for Berry: he has children of his
own and he was a slave in Morocco for some years.’ The word
was passed, the children led away by a kindly seaman, rather old; and Stephen
said, ‘But may I be forgiven, William: first things first, for all love. Tell
me about Surprise and the Commodore.’

‘The coffee is ready, sir: should you like to drink
it in the cabin?’ asked his steward.

‘Certainly. Doctors, shall we go
below?’ He collected his wits as he poured the coffee, and then said, ‘Late in
the afternoon of the day that horrible blow began the Commodore was far out in
the offing helping a disabled ship - Lion, totally dismasted but for about ten
foot of the mizen - and we could just distinguish his signal calling us out. So
we slipped moorings, struck topgallantmasts down on deck, roused out our
heavy-weather canvas and cleared the harbour. Very soon we were reduced to a
storm forestaysail and a few other scraps. When we arrived, guided by minuteguns,
we could scarcely see fifty yards for the sand and the flying spray, but we did
make out that Surprise had managed to pass Lion a tow to get her head round a
little so that she might recover some of her wreckage and set up a jury-rig to
give her at least steerage-way. I passed under his lee for orders, and while he
was telling me what to do, a heavy Dutchman, part of a scattered convoy, came
hurtling down under little more than bare poles, saw us at the last moment,
clapped his helm a-lee, severed the tow and struck Surprise just abaft the
starboard cathead, carrying away her bowsprit, heads, her forefoot, much of her
gripe and starting God knows how many butt-ends.’