The principal captives were made to pass before young Doria. When Dragut
beheld him he cried out in a fury: "What! Am I a slave to that effeminate
Caramite?" for Doria was but a beardless youth. These opprobrious epithets
being interpreted to the young nobleman, "highly incensed he flew at
Dragut, tore out his beard and moustaches, and buffeted him most
outrageously: nay his passion was so great it is said that had he not been
prevented, he certainly would have sheathed his sword in the bowels of that
assuming prisoner."
For four long years Dragut rowed in Doria's galley. No distinctions were
made in those days, and knight or noble, companion or grand master, basha
or boy, was, if caught, condemned to the rowers' bench to slave at the oar
beneath the boatswain's lash, perchance alongside some degraded criminal,
filthy and swarming with vermin. While Dragut was employed as a galley
slave there came on board the craft in which he rowed Monsieur Parisot,
Grand Master of the Knights of Malta. This high officer, recognising his
old enemy, called out to him in Spanish:
"Hola, Senor Dragut, usanza de guerra" ("The usage of war, Senor Dragut").
To which the undaunted corsair merely replied with a laugh:
"Y mudanza de fortuna" ("And a change of luck").
The Grand Master, who had known the chain and lash himself, smiled and
passed on--there was no pity in those days.
But Dragut was not destined to end his life as a galley slave, for, when
indeed hope must have died within him, after more than four years of this
veritable hell upon earth, there sailed one day into the harbour of Genoa
the great Kheyr-ed-Din himself.
Pages:
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261