Is Diplomatic and Otherwise.  
Just after the escape of the slaves, as already narrated, the British consul demanded a private audience of the Dey. His request was granted, and one morning early he set off on horseback to the city. Arriving there too soon, he put up his horse, and, threading his way through the streets of the old town, soon found himself in front of the small and unpretending, though massive, portal of Bacri the Jew.
 
He found the master of the house seated in the central court, or skiffa, drinking coffee with his wife and children.
 
“Bacri,” said the Colonel, “may I venture to interrupt your present agreeable occupation? I wish to have a talk with you in private.”
 
“With pleasure,” replied the Jew, rising and ushering his visitor into a small apartment, the peculiar arrangement and contents of which betokened it the wealthy merchant’s study or office,—indeed, it might have been styled either with equal propriety, for Bacri, besides being an able man of business, was learned in Arabic literature—of which the town possessed, and still possesses, a valuable library,—and was a diligent student of the Hebrew Scriptures.
 
“You are aware,” said the Colonel, “that I am, at your request, about to use my influence with the Dey in behalf of certain friends of yours. Now, there is an old saying—and I have great respect for many old sayings,—that ‘one good turn deserves another.’ May I, then, ask you to do me a favour?”
 
“Certainly,” said the Jew. “Name it.”
 
“You must know, then, that the Dey has been pleased to send me a pretty Portuguese girl as a slave, along with her infant child.”
 
“I know it,” said Bacri.
 
“You do? Well, this poor girl turns out to be a very sweet creature, and my wife, although somewhat annoyed at first by the unexpected gift, and puzzled what to do with her, is now so fond of her, and finds her so gentle as well as useful, that she has set her heart on having Paulina Ruffini—that is her name—freed and sent home. This, however, is not the point. Paulina has a sister named—”
 
“Angela Diego,” interrupted the Jew.
 
“Oh! you know that too?” said the Colonel, with some surprise. “You seem to know everything that goes on in this curious city! Indeed, it is a belief in this general knowledge of yours that brings me here. Well, poor Paulina is naturally in great anxiety about her sister’s fate, not having heard of her since the day they were cruelly separated by Sidi Hassan. The latter is now my janissary, and tells me that he sold Angela to a Jew in the public market, and does not know where she is. Believing that you can find this out for me, I have come hither this morning on my way to the palace. Do you think you can?”
 
“I think I can,” said the Jew, opening a door and beckoning to some one without. “Come hither, Angela. A gentleman wishes to see you.”
 
“What! is this Paulina’s sister?” said the consul in surprise, as a pretty bright-eyed girl obeyed the summons.
 
“Speak, fair one,” said the Jew. “Dost know of one Paulina Ruffini, and her infant Angelina?”
 
We need scarcely add that Angela admitted, with a look of surprise, that she did, and was overwhelmed with joy on finding that her sister was a happy inmate of the consul’s villa, and that in a short time she would be permitted to see her.
 
Leaving the Jew’s house, well satisfied with his unlooked-for success in this matter, the consul proceeded to the palace, and was at once admitted into the audience-chamber.
 
According to custom, the Dey was seated on a sort of throne, with the huge lion-pup serving as a footstool. We have said before that this lion had a decided antipathy to the British consul. Not being able to speak, it could not give the reason why! Perhaps, although unable to speak, it might have been able to understand what was said, and, possibly, had taken offence at the straightforward manner in which the consul had more than once remonstrated with the Dey for allowing so old a pup to be at large. Be this as it may, certain it is that, on the present occasion, the lion raised its head when the consul was announced. On seeing his hated scarlet uniform, it uttered a savage growl, sprang up, and ran out of the room by another door, with its tail between its legs. In springing up, the brute had forgotten its temporary character of footstool. The result was that the Dey was tilted violently backwards, and fell off his throne in a confused and most undignified heap!
 
Fortunately for the lion—perchance also for the consul—Achmet possessed too much native dignity and common-sense to allow such an accident to ruffle his temper. He rose and resumed his seat with a hearty laugh, as he said—
 
“You see, Monsieur le Consul, that even lions are afraid of the English uniform!”
 
“Your highness is pleased to be complimentary,” replied the consul, with a bow; “and that emboldens me to observe that a Dey should not retain the services of one who is capable of showing fear.”
 
“Perhaps you are right,” returned Achmet, with a smile; “especially one who has had the audacity to dethrone me.—And now, what demand have you to make of me to-day? Not, I trust, that old one—the liberation of slaves!”
 
“No, not exactly that,” replied the consul. “Nevertheless,” he added earnestly, “I do come to make an appeal in behalf of slaves.”
 
The Dey’s countenance became grave.
 
“I refer,” continued the consul, “to those unfortunate slaves who recently attempted to escape, and are now lying in chains condemned to be bastinadoed, thrown on the hooks, and otherwise tortured to death.”
 
“How!” exclaimed the Dey, frowning darkly, while a flush of anger covered his face, “can you plead for slaves who have not only rebelled and fled, but who have disabled two of my janissaries, and some of whom—especially their leader Castello and the young Sicilian Mariano—are so turbulent as to be an absolute nuisance to their guards?”
 
“Your highness is aware,” answered the consul respectfully, “that British ideas in regard to slavery and all connected with it are widely different from those entertained by Algerines, and I do not presume to pass an opinion on the sentences pronounced on men who are held guilty of having violated your laws. I merely plead that you will extend to them the royal prerogative of mercy—especially to two of their number, Francisco and Mariano.”
 
“On what ground do you ask mercy for these?” demanded Achmet sternly.
 
“On the ground that courageous and worthy men, although tempted to rebel in order to regain their liberty, are not deserving of death; that the Portuguese girl your Highness was so generous as to send me, and who was captured along with them, has interested me deeply in their history, and also on the ground that one is the father and the other the brother of your scrivano Lucien Rimini.”
 
“Indeed!” exclaimed the Dey in surprise, “Lucien never told me that, although his own hand made out the order for their execution!”
 
“That,” answered the consul, with a smile, “is because I advised him to leave the pleading of their cause to me.”
 
“Believing, no doubt,” returned the Dey, with a laugh, “that your powers of persuasion are superior to his. Well, Monsieur le Consul, you may be right; nevertheless, let me tell you that short though the time be in which Lucien has been my scrivano, there is that in his modest air and ready will, as well as his talent, which constitutes a sufficient plea to induce me to pardon his relations.”
 
“It rejoices me,” said the consul, “to find that, as I expected, your highness’s—”
 
“Yes, yes; say no more on that head,” interrupted the Dey. “Here! Lucien,” he added, calling aloud to his secretary, who, clad in superb Oriental costume, appeared at the door which led into his office, “make out an order to cancel the sentence against your father and brother, and let them be sent to the palace immediately. I will speak with thee again on the matter.—Meanwhile, will Monsieur le Consul come and behold the present which I am preparing for my royal master the Sublime Porte?”
 
There was a touch of sarcasm in the tone in which he used the words “royal master,” which the consul understood well enough, for he was aware that although nominally subject to Turkey, Algiers was to all intents and purposes an independent power, and that the present referred to was almost all the benefit derived by the Sultan from his piratical vassal.
 
It was costly enough, no doubt, viewed simply in the light of a gift, and afforded a subject of great interest to the consul when permitted to survey it—an honour, by the way, which the Dey would not have conferred on the consul of any of the other nations represented at the Algerine court, for the British consul at that time was, as we have said, a special favourite. It consisted of two magnificent milk-white Arab horses, richly caparisoned; their saddles and bridles being profusely ornamen............