Barbary Slave by Gardner Fox - Chapter 13
1955 Genre: Historical Fiction / Swashbuckling Pirates
SOLD INTO SLAVERY! It was unthinkable that innocent Eve Doremus of Boston would be forced to parade her naked beauty in a Barbary Coast slave mart. Or that the blond giant who guarded the Sultan's female chattels would be a U.S. Marine lieutenant. Yet anything was possible in exotic, violent, 19th Century Tripoli.
Amid the love-making, intrigues and tortures of the Pasha's pagan court, Eve and her marine—Stephen Fletcher—fell in love. But their romance was destined to face every temptation and peril as they loved and battled their way to freedom.
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CHAPTER 13
Fletcher never knew whether it was shock or amusement that glinted in the eyes of Commodore Rodgers as he stared at the pasha of Tripoli standing so meekly before his desk in the captain's cabin. The American commander cleared his throat and looked from Fletcher to Eve Doremus and the pasha. Then he stared at Shellah and Mark Avison.
“Yussuf Caramanli himself,” he said at last, and hit the desk top with a palm.
They had come aboard the Constitution in the early morning hours, while a mist still hung over the Mediterranean. As the entire fleet hove to, and the commanders of the Congress and the Essex came flying across the water in cock-boats, the freed American slaves were welcomed on the frigate's spar deck with shouts and laughter, with much clapping of backs and shaking of hands. A grinning lieutenant took Fletcher and Avison, with the pasha and the girls at their heels, to meet the commodore.
“Well,” said Rodgers. “Well!" Then he scowled and glanced sideways at Fletcher. “I have some recollection of forbidding you to leave ship, sir! This is desertion!"
Fletcher paled. Beside him, Eve Doremus gasped and stepped forward. It may have been the light in her angry eyes, or the words that he anticipated from her trembling lips, but the commodore hastily raised a hand.
“However, I am sure there is no written record of my order, and equally as sure that I can easily forget what was said between us. Lieutenant Fletcher, my heartiest congratulations!''
Rodgers came to his feet and walked around the edge of his desk with outstretched hand. He was introduced to Eve Doremus and to Shellah, and then he swung on Yussuf Caramanli.
“Well, sir! Fate and a marine lieutenant have put you in my hands. The choice for peace or war is up to you. Shall I go on with my intended assault on your city, hanging you from the bowsprit to discourage opposition? Or shall we make peace between our countries?”
There was no hesitation in Yussuf Caramanli. His brother Hamet was at Derna with General Eaton. If he swung with a noose about his neck from the bowsprit of the Constitution, Hamet would be pasha in his place. Surrender was a bitter pill in his mouth, but it was sweeter than the loss of his pashaship and death by hanging.
“Peace,” he croaked hoarsely. "Let there be peace forever between us!”
The Mediterranean night was warm and fragrant. At the quarterdeck rail of the U.S.S. Constitution, Eve Doremus leaned against her husband. The sky overhead was spangled with stars, and they could hear faintly the sound of strumming guitars. They had been married that afternoon, standing beside Shellah and Mark Avison, just before Commodore Rodgers had closeted himself with the pasha in his cabin to discuss the terms of surrender.
There were details to be ironed out that would require many visits from the pasha and his advisers to Commodore John Rodgers and Colonel Tobias Lear, consul general for Algiers, but those were matters that did not concern Eve Doremus. The anger of William Eaton at the easy treaty that would be made with the pasha of Tripoli, the abandonment of Hamet Caramanli to Yussuf's vengeance, were affairs for other heads than hers. At the moment all she was concerned about was this fine new husband she had so recently acquired.
At the moment he was saying, “I’ve made application for sick leave, darling. We'll spend our honeymoon in Virginia, at the manse."
"Sick leave,” she giggled, leaning more heavily against him. “You seem uncommonly healthy to me at the moment, sir!”
His arms tightened, as he pulled her close. “Nevertheless, madam, I feel a weakness coming on. I fear only a visit to our little cabin below decks, that the Commodore was good enough to assign us, can cure me of it.”
Eve made a derogatory sound, then suddenly strained against him, feeling her heart flip over as their lips met in a long kiss that was at once an assurance of the magic of their love and a promise of rapture and fulfillment in the bright, serene days that lay endlessly ahead of them.
END
"The opportunity to practice brotherhood presents itself every time you meet a human being.”
JANE WYMAN