The Pirate City, Robert Michael Ballantyne [classic novels .TXT] 📗

head, an' touched me lips, so they thought I was dumb."

"But why you comes to town?" asked Rais Ali, in a remonstrative tone.

"Just bekaise I'm hungry," replied the seaman, with a smile. "Ye see, Ally Babby, the gale of day before yesterday sint a breaker into the cave that washed away all the purvisions ye brought me last, so it was aither come here and look for 'ee or starve--for the British fleet has apparently changed its mind, and ain't goin' to come here after all. I meant to go d'rec' to yer house, but knowin' yer fondness for baths, and rememberin' that this was yer day, I thought it betther to cruise about here till you hove in sight."

While Ted Flaggan was relating all this, his friend's countenance expressed alternately doubt, disapproval, anxiety, amusement, and perplexity.

When he had finished, Rais informed him that instead of the fleet having changed its mind, there was great probability of its sudden appearance at any moment. He also mentioned the arrest of the British consul and the boat's crew of the "Prometheus," and explained that the most energetic measures were being taken to place the city in a state of defence.

"Oho!" exclaimed Flaggan, in a low tone, "that clears up wan or two things that's been puzzlin' me. I've bin thinkin' that the ship I saw lave the port was British, but the weather bein' thick I cudn't quite make out her colours. Then, I've been sore perplexed to account for the flocks of armed Arabs that have bin steerin' into the town of late, an' whin I passed the gates this mornin' I was troubled too, to make out what was all the bustle about. It's all clare as ditch-wather now.--But what's to be done with _me_, Rais? for if the cownsl an' the British gin'rally are in limbo, it's a bad look-out for Ted Flaggan, seein' that I'm on the black list already."

Rais Ali appeared to ponder the case for a few seconds.

"Come an' have one bath," he said, with sudden animation; "after that we go brikfast togidder."

"Av we cud `brikfust' _fust_, Ally Babby, it would be plisinter," returned the hungry seaman; "but, I say, I dursn't go into the bath, 'cause what would they think of a man wid dark-brown arms, legs, an' face, an' a pink body? Sure, they'd take me for a spy or a madman, an' hand me over to the p'leece!"

"Wash here, fust," said Rais, leading his friend to a small fountain in a retired angle of the court. "Ebbery body here too bizzy 'joyin' theirselfs to look to yoo. An' des corner dark. Me stan' 'tween you an' dem."

"But who ever heard of a white Moor?" objected Ted.

"Oh, lots of 'em--'alf-castes, almost white as you," said Rais.

"But I ain't got a shaved skull with a top knot," returned the seaman, still objecting.

"Nebber mind; sailors of France, Denmark, an' odder places what hav consuls here, when waitin' for ship carry dem home comes here for fun--"

"Ay, but they don't come disguised as Moors," said Flaggan, "and I niver was inside a Turkish bath before. Don't know more nor a child what to do."

"Yoo don' go in bath dressed--go naked," returned Rais, growing impatient. "Do noting in bath, only let 'em do what dey pleases to yoo."

"Very good, plaze yersilf, Ally Babby," said Ted, resignedly plunging his arms into the cistern; "only remimber, I give ye fair warnin', av the spalpeens attempts to take me prisoner, I'll let fly into their breadbaskets right an' left, an' clear out into the street, naked or clothed, no matter which,--for I've said it wance, an' I means to stick to it, they'll niver take Ted Flaggan alive."

"All right," returned Rais Ali, "yoo wash yours faces an' holds your tongue."

After removing as much as possible of the brown earth from his visage and limbs, the seaman drew the hood of his burnous well over his face, and--having assiduously studied the gait of Moors--strode with Oriental dignity into the outer court, or apartment, of the bath, followed his friend into an unoccupied corner and proceeded to undress.

"Musha! it's like a house-full of Turkish corpses," whispered Ted as he surveyed the recumbent figures in white around him.

There were some differences between this genuine Turkish bath and our British imitation of it which merit notice.

The court or hall in which the friends unrobed served the purpose of a drying-chamber as well as a dressing-room. Hence those bathers who entered to commence the operation of undressing had to pass between rows of the men who had gone through the bath, and were being gradually cooled down. They were all swathed from head to foot in white sheets, with large towels or pieces of linen tied turban-fashion round their heads, and as they lay perfectly straight and still, their resemblance to Turkish corpses was disagreeably strong. This idea was still further carried out in consequence of the abominable smell which pervaded the place, for Algerines were at that time utterly indifferent to cleanliness in their baths. Indeed, we may add, from personal experience, that they are no better at the present time than they were then! A few of the corpses, however, possessed sufficient life to enable them to smoke and sip tea or coffee.

This outer court was the immediate vestibule to the bath, or stewing-room--if we may be allowed the name. There was no passing, as with us, from a private undressing-box, through a mild cooling room, and thence into the hot and the hottest rooms. The Moors were bold, hardy fellows. The step was at once made from the cooling into the hot room, or bath, and in taking the step it was necessary to pass over one of the open sewers of the town--to judge from the smell thereof. But this last was a mere accidental circumstance connected with the bath, not an essential part of it. Thus it will be seen there were but two apartments in the establishment, with an outer lobby.

When the two friends had unrobed and wrapped a piece of striped calico round their loins, they were led by a young Moor in similar costume towards the stewing-room.

"Don' be frighted," whispered Rais Ali; "it's pretty hottish."

"I'll _try_ to be aisy," replied the seaman with a quiet smile, "an' av I can't be aisy I'll be as aisy as I can."

Although he treated the idea of being frightened with something of contempt, he was constrained to admit to himself that he was powerfully surprised when he stepped suddenly into a chamber heated to an extent that seemed equal to a baker's oven.

The apartment was octagonal, and very high, with a dome-shaped roof, from which it was dimly lighted by four small and very dirty windows. Water trickled down the dirty dark-brown walls; water and soap-suds floated over the dirty marble floor. In the centre of the floor was a mass of masonry about three feet high and seven feet square. This was the core of the room, as it were--part of the heating apparatus. It was covered with smooth slabs of stone, on which there was no covering of any kind. There is no knowing how much lurid smoke and fire rolled beneath this giant stone ottoman.

It chanced that only two men were in the place at the time. They had advanced to a certain stage of the process, and were enjoying themselves, apparently lifeless, and in sprawling attitudes, on the hot sloppy floor. The attendant of one had left him for a time. The attendant of the other was lying not far from his temporary owner, sound asleep. One of the Moors was very short and fat, the other tail and unusually thin; both had top-tufts of hair on their shaven crowns, and both would have looked supremely ridiculous if it had not been for the horrible resemblance they bore to men who had been roasted alive on the hot ottoman, and flung carelessly aside to die by slow degrees.

"Do as I doos," said Rais to Flaggan, as he stretched himself on his back on the ottoman.

"Surely," acquiesced Ted, with a gasp, for he was beginning to feel the place rather suffocating. He would not have minded the heat so much, he thought, if there had only been a _little_ fresh air!

Rais Ali's bath-attendant lay down on the slab beside him. Flaggan's attendant looked at him with a smile, and pointed to the ottoman.

"Och, surely," said Ted again, as he sat down. Instantly he leaped up with a subdued howl.

"W'y, what wrong?" asked Rais, looking up.

"It's red-hot," replied Flaggan, rubbing himself.

"Nonsense!" returned Rais; "you lie down queek. Soon git use to him. Always feel hottish at fust."

Resolved not to be beaten, the unfortunate Irishman sat down again, and again started up, but, feeling ashamed, suddenly flung himself flat on his back, held his breath, and ground his teeth together. He thought of gridirons; he thought of the rack; he thought of purgatory; he thought of the propriety of starting up and of tearing limb from limb the attendant, who, with a quiet smile, lay down beside him and shut his eyes; he thought of the impossibility of bearing it an instant longer; and then he suddenly thought that it felt a little easier. From this point he began to experience sensations that were slightly pleasurable, and a profuse perspiration broke out over his whole body.

Evidently his attendant was accustomed to deal occasionally with white men, for he watched his huge charge out of the corner of a wicked eye for some time. Seeing, however, that he lay still, the fellow went off into a peaceful slumber.

"'Tis an amazin' place intirely," observed Ted, who felt inclined to talk as he began to enjoy himself. "If it wasn't so dirty that an Irish pig of proper breedin' would object to come into it, I'd say it was raither agreeable."

Rais Ali being in the height of enjoyment, declined to answer, but the seaman's active mind was soon furnished with food for contemplation, when one of the attendants entered and quietly began, to all appearance, to put the tall thin Moor to the torture.

"Have I to go through _that_?" thought Flaggan; "well, well, niver say die, owld boy, it's wan comfort that I'm biggish, an' _uncommon_ tough."

It would be tedious to prolong the description of the Irishman's bathe that morning. Suffice it to say that, after he had lain on the ottoman long enough to feel as if the greater part of him had melted away, he awoke his attendant, who led him into a corner, laid him on the sloppy floor, and subjected him to a series of surprises. He first laid Ted's head on his naked thigh, and rubbed his face and neck tenderly, as though he had been an only son; he then straightened his limbs and baked them as though he had been trained to knead men into loaves from infancy; after that he turned him on his back and on his face; punched and pinched and twisted him; he drenched him with hot water, and soused him with soap-suds from head to foot, face and all, until the stout mariner resembled a huge mass of his native sea-foam; he stuck his hair up on end, and