The Life of a Celebrated Buccaneer Part 11

"Master Dogvane, the Turk is a friend of mine. We have fought side by side against the Eastern Bandit, and may be we shall have to do so again. I will therefore pay my respects to him."

"I would kick him bag and baggage out of Europe if I had my way,"

muttered old Dogvane.

The Buccaneer found the head of the Moslem world pensively smoking his chibouck. "Ah!" said he, "you, at least, my honest friend, will not turn your back upon me. I have at least you to fall back upon."

"Monsieur, I salute you," said the Turk with extreme politeness. "When you want to get anything out of me you call me friend and honest Turk; when you do not, I am a rogue, a vagabond, and little better than a barbarian. A while since, and your captain was for kicking me, bag and baggage, out of Europe." Dogvane was a little taken aback at having been overheard, but he soon recovered himself and was ready to argue that if his words were taken properly they could bear no such signification.

The Buccaneer was so taken by surprise that he could not speak, while Dogvane, shading his eyes with his hand, cast a look towards the beautiful Golden Horn, to see if the yacht was there, for he was weary of travelling, and had become what is called home-sick, and had he never had to consider things abroad, the chances are it would have been very much better for his reputation, and for that of his master. He said, "What is the use of your meandering in foreign parts, sir, you have a nice, snug, well-feathered little nest in the Western Ocean, where everything smiles upon you. There lies your yacht; then let us aboard: weigh anchor, and make for the rosy bed of the setting sun."

The Turk interrupted: "It suits your purpose, mon ami," he said, addressing the Buccaneer, "to seek my friendship now. But the honest Turk was not born yesterday, and he is very much more than seven, so he allies himself with those who will not cast him off when they have no further need of him."

This roused the suspicions of the Buccaneer. "Whatever you do," he cried, "do not ally yourself with the Eastern Bandit. Give him a wide berth or he will pluck you to your last feather."

"An open enemy," replied the Turk, "is better than a treacherous friend.

Pat my back to-day; kick--but no matter, Allah is good! There is but one G.o.d, and Mohammed is his prophet."

"Treacherous friend," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Buccaneer, turning to the captain.

"Does the Turk call me treacherous, Master Dogvane?"

"Heaven forbid such a thing, sir! The Turk merely made a general remark, which in the abstract no doubt is true. But, master, leave the Turk alone. If you do not come speedily away he will borrow of you for a certainty."

"But he has been my friend, Master Dogvane, for these many years."

"True, sir; and you have treated him more kindly than you usually do your friends, whom you occasionally fall out with; even coming to blows at times. But the Turk's friendship, good master, is of a costly kind.

He is a ready borrower, but a tardy payer. Look at the money he has spent in riotous living? Honest enough, no doubt; but as he is always out at elbows he cannot afford to indulge in such a luxury. A needy friend, good master, is a constant source of annoyance; for when poverty comes, pride goes, and your friend soon sinks into the degraded position of a most importunate and shameless beggar."

"I do not like to turn my back upon a friend just because he is down in the world, Master Dogvane."

"The feeling does you credit; it is n.o.ble; but, good sir, we must draw a line, lest at any time we give countenance to vice. We often deceive ourselves, and act as we think, generously, either out of idleness or fear, lest the babbling world should condemn us for want of kindness to those in need. G.o.d forbid that you should forsake a friend because he is down! But when a man has brought his suffering and misfortunes upon himself, then, good master, sympathy is bestowed upon a worthless object. Why should you a.s.sist one who will not help himself? Who so long as he can borrow will spend? The Turk will not live within his means, and you have found, sir, that you cannot enjoy his friendship without paying heavily for it." With reflections like these Dogvane led his master away, and the Turk watched their retreating steps with half-closed eyes; but yet he was not asleep; but the precise nature of his thoughts cannot, for obvious reasons, be disclosed.

"Oh for a sniff of the fresh sea air!" cried Dogvane, as he looked wistfully towards the ocean. "To feel yourself once more afloat, master, with your empire beneath your feet, and your good little ship dancing merrily to the music of the waves, would make a different man of you."

"Aye, aye, Master Dogvane, perhaps it would; but I have other fish to fry just at present. Those were merry days when I ploughed the seas in search of adventure, and it all comes back to me like a dream. I fancy I hear now the clack, clack of my many windla.s.ses; the yo! heave-ho! of my merry men, as they sheeted home their sails, and mast-headed their yards. The brave sea fights; the brilliant actions of my lads; the sinking of the enemy's ships, all, all comes back upon me. I fancy I can see my merry men, pike in hand, swarming over the ship's sides, while we poured in broadsides muzzle to muzzle. I almost hear their shouts. They strike, they strike, Dogvane, while our colours still fly proudly over us, nailed to the mast. See the ocean blurred with their life's blood.

Ah! it is past, Dogvane, it is past. Lend me thy shoulder, man, lend me thy shoulder, for my eyes are dim. Alas! they are clouded by memory. Are those good old days gone, never, never to return?"

Dogvane had learned from experience that when his master had on him one of these fits of despondency, the best thing to be done was to let him alone. He contented himself with saying, "Every age, my master, has its advantages. We cannot say that the spring is more beautiful than the summer, nor yet the summer than the autumn, while h.o.a.ry-headed winter is not free from charms."

CHAPTER XXV.

Away our two friends journeyed until they came to a high eminence which commanded a good view of all the country round. At their feet was spread the garden of Abdur, and in the distance was to be seen the El Dorado of the East. The fair lands of the Buccaneer's Indian Princess. How lovely it all looked; the hot sun streaming down on plains covered with jungle and the tall cocoanut trees with their long stems and bushy heads; and the shady plaintain with its long, broad leaves. Then rivers wound through the plain like huge silver serpents making their endless way to the sea.

As may be easily imagined, the Buccaneer who was not accustomed to such lengthy and arduous journeys, was completely done up, for the ascent had been steep and difficult; often had he stopped to admire the scenery, an excuse generally made by the weary, who are too proud to admit that they are in the smallest degree overcome. Rivulets of perspiration were running down the old gentleman's face, and it took him some time to mop himself and gain his breath. Dogvane, as the saying is, had not turned a hair. Whether this was on account of the paucity of that article, or the general leanness of his condition, it is not necessary to say.

The Buccaneer sat and contemplated in silence the beauty of the scene before him, while the captain of his watch looked through the left corner of his eye towards Abdur's home. Presently a shout in that direction made the Buccaneer start from his happy reverie, and turning to his left there he saw the Eastern Bandit, apparently enjoying himself in Abdur's garden, and not keeping to the pathways either, but trampling borders and beds under foot. "Hallo! Master Dogvane," exclaimed the Buccaneer, "sure enough there he is at his handiwork, just as we were told."

"Be not too hasty, master," Dogvane replied. "Things are not always as they seem; so somebody has said, and I believe him. We are absolutely without any official information on the subject, while, on the contrary, I have the august Bandit's word for it, that he wants nothing out of Abdur's garden, and I believe him, for the fruit is of a p.r.i.c.kly kind, and not at all enticing. In fact, more fit for a.s.ses than for human beings."

"Facts are stubborn things, Master Dogvane, and seeing surely is believing."

"Not always, sir; for how many people are deceived by their eyes? one swearing he saw one thing, another swearing the very reverse. Things are deceptive, more especially when seen through gla.s.ses dimmed by prejudice." Dogvane said nothing about the dimness of the official eye, which is well known to be as nearly blind as possible, without being absolutely so. He put his gla.s.s up and took a survey, taking good care that that part of Abdur's garden where the Bandit was should not come within his range. "For my part," he said, "I do not think the Eastern Bandit is in Abdur's garden. You may depend upon it, sir, he is merely going through the time honoured custom of beating the bounds."

"Then you go down, Master Dogvane, and see that the boundaries are fairly marked."

"It has ever been the custom to take some small boy, and by b.u.mping him or whipping him upon the breech at certain places, to engraft the boundaries indelibly upon his memory. I am too old a man for this. It is a thousand pities that we have not young Random Jack with us. He is for ever wishing to render you some signal service, as much to make a name for himself as to do good to you. Now, this would be an excellent opportunity for him to show his zeal, and I regret extremely that the lad is not here. It would be well worth while to send for him."

Dogvane's meditations were put a stop to by the Buccaneer exclaiming, as he brought down his telescope and shut up the slides with a bang: "As I hope to be saved, Master Dogvane, the Bandit is in our friend Abdur's garden!" Here he opened his spy-gla.s.s again and took another look. "And what is more," he added, "the rascal seems inclined to lay his hands upon what does not belong to him."

Fat as the Buccaneer had grown, and lazy as his prosperity and good living had made him, he did at times rouse himself, and when he did he frequently flew into the most violent fits of pa.s.sion, and made use of the most terrible language, and altogether forgetting that he was a Christian he would swear like any Turk, or the proverbial trooper. Our friend was now seized with a warlike epidemic, which, as a rule, is very infectious. He was for fighting his old enemy at once, for he felt fully persuaded that he must be in the wrong. Dogvane, the man of peace, tried to calm his master down, and begged him to take things quietly; saying that it was time enough to draw the sword when diplomacy failed.

The Buccaneer when he heard that word, ripped out several oaths of such a nature, as to make Dogvane's hair stand on end. This annoyed the Buccaneer still more, and he requested Dogvane, in tones not to be disobeyed, not to do it. The captain apologized, and declared it was the "wind, and nothing more;" showing that his mind was far away. The Buccaneer, however, quickly brought him back to his senses, by commanding him to ask the Eastern Bandit, in the politest manner possible, what the devil he meant, by trespa.s.sing upon other people's property. Of course, things had to be done in a proper way, and strictly according to custom. Dogvane knew very well that it was quite useless to ask the Eastern Bandit for any information, because, whatever his intentions might be, it was not at all likely that he would disclose them. To do so, would be to act in a manner altogether undiplomatic. But obedient to his master's commands, the captain of the watch went to a small rivulet that sprang out of the mountain side close by. This tiny stream after bounding from rock to rock of its mountain bed, fell down into the plain below, and then widening and growing deeper and deeper, rolled lazily through Abdur's garden, refreshing its parched soil with its grateful waters.

Dogvane put his hand to the side of his mouth and sent down on the bosom of the rivulet a request couched in the most polite language to know what the great Bandit of the East was about. Back came a voice from the plains below, saying, "The august Bandit of the East, the master of many millions of slaves, requests the Buccaneer of the West to mind his own business."

"Tells me to mind my own business, does he? And call you that a diplomatic answer, Master Dogvane?"

"Most a.s.suredly," replied the captain. "It would have been quite as easy for him to have told you to go to the devil. How can you find fault with him, or anyone else, for telling you to mind your own business. It is what every right-minded and honest man ought to do."

"But it is what every right-minded and honest man does not like to be told to do. This business is mine, Master Dogvane. Do you not see that he is putting his huge foot forward?"

"My eyesight in such things is somewhat dim; but be not hasty. In times past, sir, your rashness has led you into sad trouble. For all we know the Eastern Bandit does but stretch his leg, preparatory to making a backward movement. For my part, I think this must be so. I go so far as to say that it is so; for I have entered into an agreement with him; or it may be an arrangement, or even a sacred covenant."

"The devil take your covenant!" cried the Buccaneer, "I am going to see into this little matter myself," and away the old gentleman started off, with a speed that endangered his neck. Dogvane needs must follow; but he was not so good going down as up a hill on occasions like this. "Steady, my master! Steady!" he cried. "The more haste, the less speed. G.o.d forbid that we should not uphold the sacred ties of friendship; but, sir, I beg you; I beseech you, not to be rash. Remember, those who quarrels interpose, often wipe a b.l.o.o.d.y nose. Let us try the gentle force of reason first, then if that fails--"

"What then, Master Dogvane?" said the Buccaneer, stopping and turning round to confront his captain.

"Time, sir, and the course of events alone can tell. In a good cause, in a righteous cause, old Will Dogvane will be found ever ready to draw the sword."

"Damme! Dogvane, there's life in the old dog yet."

"Sir, swear not; it makes my blood curdle in my veins."

"Dogvane! Dogvane!" cried the Buccaneer, "As I live he is beating Abdur's children!"

"And why not, sir? why not? no doubt, they richly deserve it. Have you not taken the liberty of doing the self same thing yourself?"

They were now very much closer, and Dogvane put up his gla.s.s to his official eye, and declared he saw nothing out of the way going on. This so irritated the Buccaneer, that he performed something in the nature of a miracle, and he made Dogvane receive his sight. He owned that he did see something in the nature of a beating taking place. Then he said by way of excuse: "You can not expect, sir, to have a monopoly of beating other people's children. But at any rate," he continued, "the time has come for us to show the Eastern Bandit that we are not to be trifled with. We are now near enough for him to see. The man who will not stand up for a friend in need, deserves to be branded with the name of coward."

"Bravo, Dogvane!" exclaimed the Buccaneer, "I don't care for sentiment, as a rule; for it generally cloaks some infernal rascality; but damme that's a good sentiment, and one to my liking."

Dogvane felt an honest pride in having thus pleased his master. He felt also encouraged, so taking off his coat and turning up his shirt sleeves he said, "When the Eastern Bandit sees the sinews of my goodly arms, he will, no doubt, become frightened, and pause ere he provokes me to anger; but, master, you will stand by me?"

"Through thick and thin, Dogvane!"