Part 27 (1/2)

Lucien understood English well and spoke it fluently. One or two of Flaggan's exclamations enlightened him as to the true character of their unexpected visitor.

”Hold, Mariano!” he cried; ”the man is evidently a friend.”

”What's that ye're saying?” cried Flaggan, looking up, for he was still busy attempting to throttle Mariano.

”I tell my brother that you are a friend,” said Lucien, scarce able to restrain laughter.

”Faix, then, it don't look like it from the tratement I resaive at yer hands.--Howsoever,” said the seaman, relaxing his grip and rising, while Mariano did the same, ”it's well for you that I am. Bacri sent me wid a few words o' comfort to 'ee, an' some purvisions, which I raither fear we've bin tramplin' about in the dirt; but--no, here it is,” he added, picking up the wallet, which had come off in the struggle, ”all right, an' I make no doubt it'll be of use to 'ee. But it's a poor sort o'

lodgin' ye've got here: wouldn't it be better for all parties if we was to go on deck?”

”Not so,” said Lucien, with a smile, as he fell in with the seaman's humour. ”'Twere better to come to our cabin; this is only the hold of our s.h.i.+p.--Follow me.”

So saying he went down on his hands and knees and disappeared in an impenetrably dark hole, not three feet high, which opened off the hole in which they stood.

Mariano pointed to it and motioned to the sailor to follow.

”Arter you, sir,” said Ted, bowing politely.

Mariano laughed and followed his brother, and Ted Flaggan, muttering something about its being the ”most strornar companion hatch _he'd_ ever entered,” followed suit.

A creep of two or three yards brought him into a cavern which was just high enough to admit of a man standing erect, and about eight or ten feet wide. At the farther extremity of it there was a small stone lamp, the dim light of which revealed the figure of stout Francisco Rimini sound asleep on a bundle of straw, wrapped negligently in his burnous, and with a stone for his pillow. Beside him stood an empty tin dish and a stone jar of the picturesque form peculiar to the inhabitants of the Atlas Mountains; the sword given to him by Bacri lay within reach of his half-open hand.

Neither the scuffle outside nor the entrance of the party had disturbed the old man.

”My father is worn out with a fruitless search for food!” said Lucien, sitting down on a piece of rock and motioning to the seaman to do likewise. ”We can venture out in search of food only at night, and last night was so intensely dark as well as stormy that we failed to procure anything. Our water jar and platter are empty.”

”Then I've just come in the nick of time,” said Flaggan, proceeding to unfasten his wallet and display its much-needed contents.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

SOCIAL INTERCOURSE IN THE CAVERN.

”Here you are,” cried the sympathetic Irishman, enlarging on the nature of the viands, as he spread them temptingly before the hungry men; ”here's food fit for a Dey, to say nothin' of a month. Here's a loaf-- ain't it?--about a fut an' a half long an' three inch thick. Coorious to look at, but a good un to eat I make no doubt--that's a foundation for 'ee--there, cut 'im up an' fire away; ye can't listen properly to me discoorse till you git yer jaws to work. This here is a pie o' some sort, I shud say, havin' regard to the shape, only that ain't the sort o' wittles a Jew would send 'ee, is it? P'raps it's wild-boar, for I've seed no end o' them critters in the market. Maybe it's lion, for they do says there's lots o' the king o' beasts in the mountains hereabouts, though I can't say I've heerd 'em roar yet. Hows'ever, wotever it is, here it is, so go ahead.--Hallo!” exclaimed Flaggan remonstratively, as he cast a glance at the sleeping man beside him, ”you've begun without the ould man. Don't 'ee think it 'ud be but filial-like to wake him up an' start fair?”

”No, we'll let him sleep on,” answered Lucien, as he began to eat with right good-will, in which he was ably seconded by his brother. ”My father needs rest quite as much as food at present. He shall eat when he awakes.”

”Well, you knows best,” returned the seaman, taking out his pipe and tobacco-pouch; ”it's wan comfort anyhow that the wittles can't get colder than they be now, and there's overmuch for 'ee to ait the whole consarn at one bout, so the ould man'll git his grub, though I must own it'd have liked to have seed 'im start fair.--Hand over the glim, plaise.”

Lucien pa.s.sed the small lantern to Flaggan, whose hard good-humoured features were for a few seconds suffused with a ruddy glow as he put the light close to it, and drew the flame vigorously into the bowl of his very black little pipe. Then, setting it down beside him, he smoked in silence and in much satisfaction, as he contemplated the hearty manner in which the young men enjoyed their meal.

When he had finished, Lucien bowed his head for a few seconds in silent thanksgiving, and Mariano paused respectfully while he did so. Then, taking a long draught from the earthenware bottle; the elder brother expressed his grat.i.tude to the Jew for the opportune relief.

”That seems to be good stuff to judge be the way ye smacked yer lips,”

observed Ted, removing his pipe and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his coat.

”Try it,” said Lucien, handing him the bottle with a smile.

”Got no smell,” remarked the tar, as he put the bottle to his mouth--”wather!” he added contemptuously, as he put it down and resumed the pipe.