Sometimes they went ahead at full speed for a few hundred yards, as if to chase an adversary; then they would swerve aside, the slaves on one side rowing, while those on the other backed, so as to make a rapid turn.  Then she lay for a minute or two immovable, and then backed water, or turned to avoid the attack of an imaginary foe.  Then for an hour she lay quiet, while the knights, divesting themselves of their mantles and armour, worked one of the guns on the poop, aiming at a floating barrel moored for the purpose a mile out at sea.  At eleven o’clock they returned to the port.  Bread and water were served out to the slaves, and they were then permitted to lie down and sleep, the galley being moored under the shadow of the wall.

At four o’clock another party of knights came down, and the work was similar to that which had been performed in the morning.  At seven o’clock the slaves were taken back to their barracks.

“Well, what do you think of your work?” one of the slaves asked Gervaise, as they ate their evening meal.

“It would not be so bad if it was all like that.”

“No.  But I can tell you that when you have to row from sunrise to sunset, with perhaps but one or two pauses for a few minutes, it is a different thing altogether, especially if the galley is carrying despatches, and speed is necessary.  Then you get so worn out and exhausted, that you can scarce move an oar through the water, until you are wakened up by a smart as if a red hot iron had been laid across your shoulders.  It is terrible work then.  The whip cracks every minute across some one’s back; you are blinded by exhaustion and rage, and you feel that you would give the world if you could but burst your chain, rush on your taskmasters, and strike, if only one blow, before you are killed.”

“It must be terrible,” Gervaise said.  “And do you never get loose, and fall upon them?”

The man shook his head.

“The chains are too strong, and the watch too vigilant,” he said.  “Since I came here I have heard tales of crews having freed themselves in the night, and fallen upon the Christians, but for my part I do not believe in them.  I have thought, as I suppose every one of us has thought, how such a thing could be done; but as far as I know no one has hit on a plan yet.  Now and then men have managed to become possessed of a file, and have, by long and patient work, sawn through a chain, and have, when a galley has been lying near our own shore, sprung overboard and escaped; but for every attempt that succeeds there must be twenty failures, for the chains are frequently examined, and woe be to the man who is found to have been tampering with his.  But as to a whole gang getting free at once, it is altogether impossible, unless the key of the pad locks could be stolen from an overseer, or the man bribed into aiding us.”

“And that, I suppose, is impossible?” Gervaise said.