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"What! will you say that others are saved beside you?" "No." "How then can Ranadar live?" "I am Ranadar!" At that well known name the Turkish captain, laid his hand furiously upon his scimetar. The men who had been looking at the prisoner, or endeavoring to discern some living being upon the water, all turned as if by one impulse, to look at the dreaded corsair.
He unwound his scarf and fastening it firmly to an iron bar, he took Iona in his manly arm, and then descended. The cold water received the lovers and enfolded them. Iona clinging to Ranadar as he directed her feared nothing, for her lover was with her. He struck out boldly and swam slowly to the boat. Gradually he approached, and at last his hands grasped it.
But her face was deathly pale, and her hands were clasped tightly together. "In one hour, Grecian maid-in one hour," and his voice sank to a deep, hard whisper "you shall die, and nevermore shall your father behold you-nevermore shall Ranadar gaze upon you unless it be in Eblis." And Achmet departed. "Alas, he never has gazed upon me. Ranadar never has seen me, but I have seen him-ah, too often."
The Greeks seized their scimetars and rushed into the deadly encounter. Maffeo fought like a lion, killing three Turks in succession. Ranadar fired his pistols and killed two of the foremost leaders. Then hurling them at the heads of the followers, he rushed at them sword in hand. "Fight, Greeks, fight! Down with the Turk!" and crying this, he toiled on in the mortal strife.
"Victory!" and the shout which added force to the Greeks, took away the courage of the Turks. For a while the carnage raged, the Greeks cut down their enemies who still fought with the wild energy of despair. Many leaped into the sea. Others leaned against their dead comrades, and though wounded, still kept up resistance. "Yield! yield! You are conquered!" cried Ranadar!
Here, come forward," said he, to some of his men, who were, armed with axes. "Hew the ruffian from limb to limb!" "Do your worst, vile Turk! I scorn you, and laugh at death. Better it is to die than live in captivity!" "Ha! say you so? Then I will bring down your proud spirit, and Ranadar the corsair shall be Ranadar the obedient slave! Men, bind him."
O the scoundrelly Sciotes! Why did they not give notice of this?" and Ranadar walked anxiously about. "Men," he cried at last. "Ho, there! Listen. We are lost. These Turks will overtake us. But who will think of yielding? None?" "No, no, none," cried the men. "Then let us fight. Prepare a train, and when all is ready, when our decks are full-then fire, and blow these Infidels to perdition!
Not a word was uttered, not a cry from either side, but foot to foot and steel to steel the combatants waged their deadly warfare. Suddenly Ranadar disappeared below, and in a few minutes returned with a beaming countenance and fresh energy. Rushing at an enormous Turk who wielded a tremendous scimetar, the corsair attacked him.
Are you yet alive, then? Iona has mourned you long." "Ranadar, Heaven bless you forever. Did you save my daughter?" "I escaped, and she fled with me." "Ranadar, your name is terrible to your foes, but O, how sweet, how dear, to your friends. God bless you, is an old man's prayer." The Turkish vessel was plundered, and after dividing, enough was found to fill the corsairs with joy.
"Give it to them again, my rovers!" cried Ranadar, as he himself picked out the Turkish captain with his gun. Another volley was fired and again another, with the same effect as before. And this was the last, for both Turkish ships coming quickly up fired broadsides, and grappled with the disabled corsair. The men poured from both ships into her.
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