Part 38 (2/2)

The _Leander_ also saw them, and a few guns from her, as well as from the flag-s.h.i.+p, were instantly turned on them.

”Musha! look there!” cried Ted Flaggan, who chanced to be on the part of the s.h.i.+p nearest them.

A tremendous crash followed, and thirty-three out of the thirty-seven boats were in one moment sent to the bottom!

Of the four that escaped and put about to retreat, one came within the range of the gun at which Flaggan served. It was trained to bear.

”Fire!” said the captain.

”Howld on!” cried Ted, suddenly clapping his hand on the touch-hole, and receiving the red-hot poker on the back of it.

”What's that for, mate?” demanded the man who held the poker, as he quickly raised it.

”All right, me hearty; fire away,” said Ted, as he quietly removed his hand.

Next moment the gun leaped back as if affrighted at its own vomit of shot, smoke, and fire, and a column of white foam rose from the sea, astern of the boat.

The momentary check had delivered it from destruction, and Ted Flaggan had the satisfaction of knowing that he had saved his friend Rais Ali, as he tenderly patted his injured hand.

More than an hour of this heavy firing failing to produce submission, Lord Exmouth resolved to destroy the Algerine fleet. The _Leander_ was ordered to cease firing, and the flag-s.h.i.+p barge, under Lieutenant Richards, was ordered to board the nearest frigate of the enemy, with laboratory torches and carca.s.s sh.e.l.ls. This duty was gallantly performed, and so effectually, that the men of the barge had barely time to tumble over the side when the frigate was a ma.s.s of flames. The barge was received with three hearty cheers on its return. Next, the launch of the _Queen Charlotte_ opened on the largest frigate in the port with carca.s.s sh.e.l.ls, and despite the frantic efforts of the Algerines to save her, she was soon completely on fire. From this frigate the fire spread to all the other boats and vessels in the harbour, and from these to the storehouses and a.r.s.enal, until the whole place was wrapped in smoke and flames.

Meanwhile the other s.h.i.+ps had done terrible execution on the walls and houses immediately opposite to them, while the bomb-vessels threw their deadly missiles right over their own s.h.i.+ps and into the town and a.r.s.enal, with tremendous effect.

Thus the work of destruction went on all the afternoon, while men, of course, fell fast on both sides--for the deadly game of war cannot be carried on except at fearful cost. Even in the secondary matter of _materiel_ the cost is not small. As night approached the guns of the enemy were completely silenced, and the s.h.i.+ps began to husband their ammunition, for they had by that time fired an immense quant.i.ty of gunpowder, and 50,000 shot, weighing more than 500 tons of iron; besides 960 sh.e.l.ls of large size, as well as a considerable quant.i.ty of shot, sh.e.l.l, and rockets from the flotilla! The result was that the entire fleet of the pirates was destroyed, and the sea-defences of Algiers, with a great part of the town itself, were shattered and crumbled in ruins.

Then the fleet hauled off with considerable difficulty, owing to the absence of wind; but the pirates had not given in, for they kept spitting at their foes from the upper batteries of the town until half-past eleven at night, when the s.h.i.+ps got out of range and firing ceased.

Strange to say, the powers of nature, which had hitherto slumbered quietly, now came into play. The breeze freshened and a tremendous storm of thunder, lightning, and rain came on, as if to mock the fury of man, and humble him under a sense of his relative littleness.

But man is not easily humbled. Next morning the pirates still showed a disinclination to give in, and the British fleet resumed the offensive in order to compel them to do so.

The gun-boats were again placed in position, and Lieutenant Burgess was sent ash.o.r.e with a flag of truce to demand unconditional surrender.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

THE LAST.

In a dimly-lighted cell of a ma.s.sive stone building not far from the palace of the Dey, sat Colonel Langley, Francisco Rimini and his two sons, Bacri the Jew, and the officers and men belonging to the _Prometheus_--all heavily ironed. The Padre Giovanni was also there, but not, like the others, a prisoner.

He was attending to his self-imposed duty of comforting the sick and dying. Among the other prisoners was an Italian slave, a n.o.bleman, who had broken down on the ramparts and rebelled, and was sent to prison as being the most convenient hospital where he might be kept until the pirates should find leisure to flog him into submission or to death.

But Death had a mind to do the work according to his own pleasure. The slave felt himself to be sinking, and, through the influence of Bacri with the jailer, he had been permitted to send for Giovanni. Other slaves were there too, doomed to punishment, or, in other words, to various degrees of torture. They lay or cowered around the cell awaiting the issue of the fight.

It was a terrible sight to see the varied expressions of anxiety, fear, or dogged resolution depicted in the faces of these men. Some of them knew well that death, accompanied by excruciating torture, was certain to be their portion when the bombardment should be over. Others hoped that a severe bastinado might be the worst of it. None expected anything more--even though the British should win the day--than that there would be some modification in treaties which would not extend to the slaves of foreign nations.

They all--with the exception of the Padre--maintained an almost unbroken silence during the bombardment; but their restless motions and glances showed how busy their thoughts were, and a grim smile would ever and anon curl the lips of some when a chance shot struck the building and shook it to its foundation. And oh! how anxiously one or two desperate spirits hoped that a sh.e.l.l would enter it, and scatter sudden death among them all!

It was solemn, and strange, too, in the midst of the interminable thunder, to hear the gentle voice of the man of G.o.d quoting from the peace-speaking Word, as he knelt beside the dying man and dwelling more especially on pa.s.sages in which the loving Jesus seeks to cheer His people with prospects of rest and peace, such as--”Peace be unto you;”

”Let not your hearts be troubled, ye believe in G.o.d, believe also in me;” ”Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Even the hardened among the wretched and demoralised sufferers there could not choose but hear and note the powerful contrast between the gentle voice of Almighty G.o.d that thus murmured within the prison, and the cras.h.i.+ng voice of puny man that roared outside!

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