Then Dawson and I, turning about, discovered to our consternation Ali Oukadi standing quite close beside us, with folded arms and bent brows.

“You are unwise,” says he, in a calm tone.

“Nay, master,” says Jack, piteously.  “I did but speak a word to my child.”

“If you understand our tongue,” adds I, “you will know that we did but bid her have patience, and wait.”

“Possibly,” says he.  “Nevertheless, you compel me henceforth to keep her a close prisoner, when I would give her all the liberty possible.”

“Master,” says Jack, imploring, “I do pray you not to punish her for my fault.  Let her still have the freedom of your garden, and I promise you we will go away this day and return no more until we can purchase her liberty for ever.”

“Good,” says the old man, “but mark you keep your promise.  Know that ’tis an offence against the law to incite a slave to revolt.  I tell you this, not as a threat, for I bear you no ill will, but as a warning to save you from consequences which I may be powerless to avert.”

This did seem to me a hint at some sinister design of Mohand ou Mohand—­a wild suspicion, maybe, on my part, and yet, as I think, justified by evils yet to come.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Of our bargaining with a Moorish seaman; and of an English slave.

We lost no time, be sure, in going back to Alger, blessing God on the way for our escape, and vowing most heartily that we would be led into no future folly, no matter how simple and innocent the temptation might seem.

And now began again a tedious season of watching on the mole of Alger; but not to make this business as wearisome to others, I will pass that over and come at once to that joyful, happy morning, when, with but scant hope, looking down upon the deck of a galley entering the port, to our infinite delight and amazement we perceived Richard Godwin waving his hand to us in sign of recognition.  Then sure, mad with joy, we would have cast ourselves in the sea had we thereby been able to get to him more quickly.  Nor was he much less moved with affection to meet us, and springing on the quai he took us both in his open arms and embraced us.  But his first word was of Moll.  “My beloved wife?” says he, and could question us no further.

We told him she was safe, whereat he thanks God most fervently, and how we had spoken with her; and then he tells us of his adventures—­how on getting Don Sanchez’s letter he had started forth at once with such help as Sir Peter Lely generously placed at his disposition, and how coming to Elche, he found Mrs. Godwin there in great anxiety because we had not returned, and how Don Sanchez, guessing at our case, had procured money from Toledo to pay Moll’s ransom, and did further charter a neutral galley to bring him to Alger—­which was truly as handsome a thing as any man could do, be he thief or no thief.  All these matters we discussed on our way to the Cassanabah, where Mr. Godwin furnished himself as we had with a trader’s permit for twenty-eight days.