damage as they can, and try to convince the Spaniards of the uselessness of resistance. We must waste no time over this little enterprise, for our anchorage is exposed, and the spring victualing flotilla from Cartagena may already have sailed with necessities for the garrison. You shall have eight days in which to effect the capture.”
Khaireddin explained to each officer what he had to do, and gave orders for the ships to weigh anchor next morning and bombard the fortress from the sea. The shore battery he put under Torgut’s command, since this proud man had risen to his present position from the rank of ordinary gunner. He then commended his officers to Allah’s protection and dismissed them, keeping only Sinan at his side. Mustafa ben-Nakir also remained, being too deeply engrossed in the scansion of a new Persian poem to notice that the others had withdrawn. But now he raised his eyes and stared at me with the veiled look of a sleepwalker, then rose and despite my protests undressed me and gave me in exchange the fine kaftan and the Aga’s turban that he had been wearing. He resumed his own mendicant dress, and the music of its little bells so greatly inspired him that he was soon deep in composition once more.
I put on the kaftan, but having set the turban upon my head also I quickly removed it and said, “I’m but a slave and have certainly no right to the Aga’s turban. By your favor, O lord of the sea, I lay it at your feet. Bestow it upon some worthier man whom your warriors will obey.”
Though it was a bitter thing to renounce the plumed and jeweled turban, I thought of the forthcoming siege, and the flaunting of so noticeable and perilous a headdress tempted me not at all. The folds of the kaftan, however, felt unusually thick. As if fate would reward me for my unselfishness, I found two pockets, in each of which was a heavy purse. But I would not expose anyone to temptation by taking them out to examine them. To cap this, Mustafa ben-Nakir contemptuously threw at me my own purse, which I had left in the girdle pocket of his dress, for men of his sect despise money beyond everything.
While I was putting on the kaftan, Sinan the Jew suddenly spoke. “What do I seep Is this not the angel Michael, my slave, whom I lent to Abu el-Kasim, to help him prepare the way for the Deliverer?”
He rose and embraced me warmly, taking care at the same time to feel the stuff of my kaftan; for it was indeed a superb garment, embroidered all over with gold and having gold buttons set with green stones. Abu el-Kasim was pale with envy, but Sinan the Jew turned to Khaireddin and said, “Believe me, Khaireddin, this man who has chosen the right path brings good fortune with him, for he has a singular gift for creeping in and out through the smallest keyhole, and whatever happens to him he falls on his feet, like a cat. With all this he bears ill will to no one, and would have everyone be happy in his own fashion.”
Abu el-Kasim broke in hotly, “Don’t listen to him, lord of the sea! Michael is the laziest, greediest, most ungrateful man on earth. If he had any sense of what is fitting he would change kaftans with me, for what is he but my slave?”
Khaireddin replied, “That kaftan becomes him better than it would you, and he needs such a one, so I’m told, to win the heart of a certain vain woman. Your secrets I have already learned from Mustafa ben- Nakir here, when he appeared before me as the ear and eye of the High Porte. This, of course, I ought not to have mentioned, and I can’t think how it came to slip over my tongue.”
Abu el-Kasim was thrown into a great fright by this, and made haste to kiss the ground before Mustafa ben- Nakir, and would have kissed his feet too, if the poet had not kicked him. But I said, “Lord, may your slave address you? While laughter wrinkles are yet radiant about your eyes, let me put in a word for my brother, lying now in fear of death in the dungeon beneath our feet. Let him be fetched and let me speak on his behalf, for he’s a foolish, simple man, incapable of arranging words in a seemly manner.”
Khaireddin replied, “Not so, let us go ourselves to fetch the notable Antar, of whose strength I have heard such tales. But don’t betray me. Let me stand by unknown, and hear what he says when he wakes.”
We left Mustafa ben-Nakir to finish his poem and descended to the cellar floor-Khaireddin, Sinan, Abu el-Kasim, and myself. The jailer shoved aside the iron trap door, and each of us in turn was lowered into the cell, where my dog Rael at once greeted me with joyful barks. Andy woke and sat up, holding his head in both hands and staring at us bleary eyed. The water jar was empty and all the bread eaten, and he had indescribably befouled the floor all about him. After glaring at us for some time he asked in a feeble voice, “What’s happened? Where am I? Why weren’t you with me, Michael, in the hour of my degradation? Only this brute beast witnessed my awakening, and licked my aching head in pity.”
He put his hand to his stomach and groaned.
“You may remember,” I said hesitantly, “that Sultan Selim ben- Hafs is dead?”
Andy looked blank. Then a spark of intelligence appeared in his round eyes. He looked wildly about and whispered, “I remember it very well. But didn’t we agree that it was an accident? Don’t tell me the truth has been discovered? Where is the wise Amina? She will explain everything. How could she let them throw me into this cess pit and leave me here stripped and beaten, after all I did for her and the other women?”
“Andy,” I said gently, “bear this like a man. I have to tell you that by the will of Allah Amina and her son are dead.”
Andy pressed himself against the stone wall, wide-eyed with horror, and exclaimed, “You can’t mean that in my drunkenness I was so rough as to kill her? Never, never have I offered violence to any woman.” He rocked to and fro with his head in his hands and mourned. “It can’t be true, unless the devil bewitched me-for certainly he dwells in the sealed wine jars of this country.”
I felt pity for Andy in his anguish, and did my best to console him.
“You never laid a finger on her. She perished otherwise, for her evil-doing, and it will be best to speak no more about it. One thing only you must know. She was a designing woman who deliberately entangled you, and it was she, remember, who tempted you to drink wine and forget your pious resolutions.”
He gave a deep sigh of relief, squeezed a few tears from his swollen eyes, and said, “So I’m left a widower. Poor creature! She was in the prime of life, a faithful wife and a fond mother. And we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, though truth to tell she was not altogether free from evil desires. Well, I hope you and all good people may feel for me in my sorrow, and not judge me overstrictly, even though I’ve sought to drown my troubles in wine and so committed a great deal of foolishness.”
He regarded us hopefully, but Abu el-Kasim said with a sigh, “Alas, Antar my slave, you slew the Sultan’s Aga and stole his turban. If you’ve anything to say in your defense, say it now. Otherwise you must be taken before the cadi, and then hanged, quartered, burned, and thrown to the dogs.”
Andy flung out his hand and said, “Do with me as you will. I’ve deserved all these penalties, and should feel the better for losing this aching head. Though indeed I deserve punishment only for the first draught of wine; everything else followed of itself. I killed the Aga as a result of a brawl-a common thing among soldiers-but it was no punishable offense, for we were not then at war, and the articles of war had not been read. I know more about these things than you. Therefore I shall appear before my judge with a clear conscience, and yours will be the shame and not mine if I am sentenced to flogging for such a trifle.”
Andy regarded us with an air of great assurance, and seemed persuaded of the justice of his cause. When I had translated his words-for he had spoken in Finnish-Khaireddin could no longer contain himself. Bursting into a shout of laughter he went up and clapped Andy on the shoulder, saying, “You’re a man after my own heart, and because of your astute defense I forgive you your crime.”
Andy shook off Khaireddin’s hand angrily and asked me, “Who’s this fellow and what’s he doing here? I’ve had enough of their unseemly pawings.”
Aghast at his indiscretion I told him who his visitor was. But Khaireddin took it in good part and said, “I will give you new clothes and a saber. You shall serve me, and I fancy you’ll be useful in many ways.”
But Andy answered bitterly, “I’ve been led by the nose long enough, and care nothing for your saber. I shall go out into the wilderness and end my days as a holy hermit. Indeed, if you give me clean clothes and a crust or two to gnaw, you may leave me alone in this hole with a good conscience.”
Nevertheless we persuaded him to climb up out of his cell, and while he washed himself in preparation for his long-neglected prayers, Khaireddin sent him fine clothes and so splendid a scimitar that Andy could not resist testing its edge on his nail, after which he buckled it round him with a contented sigh. I then told him all that had happened during his absence, and ended, “You can see for yourself that for once mercy has prevailed over justice. Khaireddin might well have been angry with you for upsetting all the plans that Abu el-Kasim and I had laid with such care during the winter.”
But Andy retorted, “If my head didn’t ache so damnably I might begin to suspect that I’ve been basely swindled. By marrying Amina I should have become the most powerful man in Algiers. With luck I might have had a
