“Of course, I don’t understand anything about it, Sir John, but will do as you ask me.”

He went to where Gervaise had crouched down by the bulwark, beckoned him to follow, and, walking aft, motioned to him to sit down there.  Then he returned to Sir John, and joined the other knights, who were all too anxious to learn the latest news —­ who had left the island, and who had come to it since they sailed —­ to interest themselves in any way with the figure who had gone aft, supposing him, indeed, to be Sir John’s servant, the lantern suspended over the poop giving too feeble a light for his costume to be noted.

A quarter of an hour later they anchored in the harbour.  Some of the knights at once went ashore to their respective auberges, but Sir Almeric and a few others remained on board until relieved of their charge in the morning, an account being sent on shore of the number of captives that had been brought in.  No thought was given to Gervaise, who slept curled up on the poop.  Sir John Boswell passed the night on board.  In the morning an officer came off with a list of the prisons to which the slaves were to be sent.  Sir John Kendall had seen the officer charged with the distribution, who had, at his request, not included the prison of St. Pelagius in the list.

A message, however, had been sent to that prison, as well as to the others, for an officer to attend at the landing stage.  In the morning Sir John went ashore in one of the boats conveying the slaves, of whom some forty had been captured.  Gervaise followed him into the boat, and took his seat by the others, who were too dispirited at the fate which had befallen them to pay any attention to him.

When he landed, Sir John asked which was the officer from St. Pelagius.  One stepped forward.

“This is the only slave for you,” he said, pointing to Gervaise.  “He is of a better class than the rest, and in the future may be he will do for a servitor at one of the auberges, but none have at present occasion for one, and so he is to go to you.  He says that his father is a merchant, and will be ready to pay a ransom for him; but they all say that, and we must not heed it overmuch.  As he seems a smart young fellow, it may be that he will be sent to one of the auberges later on; but at present, at any rate, you can put him with the rest, and send him out with the gangs.”

“He is a well built young fellow, Sir John,” the officer remarked, “and should make a good rower in a galley.  I will put him in the crew of the St. Elmo.  Follow me,” he said, in Turkish, to Gervaise, and then led the way up to the prison.  On entering he crossed a courtyard to a door which was standing open.  Within was a vaulted room, some forty feet long by twenty wide; along each side there were rushes strewn thickly.

“The others have just started to their work,” he said, “so that for today you can sleep.”

After he had left, Gervaise looked with some disgust at the rushes, that had evidently been for weeks unchanged.