no more about horses than an Esquimaux.
However, a man who was accustomed to hold on to a top-sail-yard in a
gale was not to be easily shaken off by an Arab charger. He clung to
the high saddle-bow with one hand, and with the other grasped his
clasp-knife, which he opened with his teeth. Therewith he probed the
flanks of his fiery steed to such an extent that he not only distanced
all his Arab pursuers, but overtook and passed his own escort one by
one, until he reached Sidi Hassan himself. He then attempted to pull
up, but the clasp-knife had fired the charger's blood in an unusual
degree. With a wicked snort and fling that lifted Flaggan high out of
the saddle, it rushed madly on, left the pirate captain far behind, and
at length dashed through the Bab-Azoun gate of Algiers, despite the
frantic efforts of the guard to check or turn it. Right onward it sped
through the street Bab-Azoun, scattering Turks, Moors, Jews, negroes,
and all the rest of them like chaff; passed the Dey's palace, straight
along the street Bab el-Oued; out at the water-gate, with similar
contempt of the guards; down into the hollow caused by the brook beyond;
up the slope on the other side, half-way towards the summit, on the
opposite side of Frais Vallon, and was not finally pulled up until it
had almost run down the British consul, who chanced to be riding
leisurely homeward at the time.

"You seem to have had a pretty sharp run, my man," said the consul,
laughing, as the Irishman thankfully jumped off, and grasped the bridle
of the now thoroughly winded horse.

"Faix an' I have, yer honour; an' if I haven't run down an' kilt half
the population o' that town, wotever's its name, no thanks to this
self-opiniated beast," replied Flaggan, giving the bridle a savage pull.

"You're an Irishman, I perceive," said the consul, smiling.

"Well, now, yer right, sur; though how ye came to persaive is more nor I
can understand."

"Where have you come from? and how in such a plight?" demanded the
consul in some surprise, observing that a troop of janissaries came
galloping up the winding road, near the top of which they stood.

"Sorrow wan o' me knows where we touched at last," replied the seaman in
some perplexity; "the names goes out o' me head like wather out of a
sieve. All I'm rightly sure of is that I set sail four days ago from a
port they calls Boogee, or so'thin' like it, in company with a man
called Seedy Hassan; an' sure he'd ha bin