We must turn now to poor Lancey, from whom I parted in the waters of the Danube, but with whose fate and doings I did not become acquainted until long afterwards.

 

As I had anticipated, he missed the vessel of the Turkish flotilla towards which he had struck out, but fortunately succeeded in grappling the chain cable of that which lay next to it, and the crew of which, as the reader will recollect, I had roused by a shout in passing.

 

Lancey soon let the Turks know where he was. A boat being lowered, he was taken on board, but it was clear to him that he was regarded with much suspicion. They hurried him before the officer in charge of the deck, who questioned him closely. The poor fellow now found that his knowledge of the Turkish language was much slighter than, in the pride of his heart, while studying with me, he had imagined. Not only did he fail to understand what was said to him, but the dropping of h’s and the introduction of r’s in wrong places rendered his own efforts at reply abortive. In these circumstances one of the sailors who professed to talk English was sent for.

 

This man, a fine stalwart Turk, with a bushy black beard, began his duties as interpreter with the question—

 

“Hoosyoo?”

 

“Eh? say that again,” said Lancey, with a perplexed look.

 

“Hoosyoo?” repeated the Moslem, with emphasis.

 

“Hoosyoo,” repeated Lancey slowly. “Oh, I see,” (with a smile of sudden intelligence,) “who’s you? Just so. I’m Jacob Lancey, groom in the family of Mrs Jeff Childers, of Fagend, in the county of Devonshire, England.”

 

This having been outrageously misunderstood by the Turk, and misinterpreted to the officer, the next question was—

 

“Wessyoocumfro?”

 

“Wessyoocumfro?”

 

Again Lancey repeated the word, and once more, with a smile of sudden intelligence, exclaimed, “Ah, I see: w’ere’s you come from? Well, I last come from the water, ’avin’ previously got into it through the hupsettin’ of our boat.”

 

Lancey hereupon detailed the incident which had left him and me struggling in the water, but the little that was understood by the Turks was evidently not believed; and no wonder, for by that time the Russians had been laying down torpedoes in all directions about the Danube, to prevent the enemy from interfering with their labours at the pontoon bridges. The Turkish sailors were thus rendered suspicious of every unusual circumstance that came under their notice. When, therefore, a big, powerful, and rather odd-looking man was found clinging to one of their cables, they at once set him down as an unsuccessful torpedoist, and a careful search was instantly made round the vessel as a precaution.

分享到：