For Our Young Readers. THE CAPTIVE OF THE CORSAIRS.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXIV, Issue 23, 2 October 1896, Page 19

For Our Young Readers. THE CAPTIVE OF THE CORSAIRS.

" Boys," called Uncle George, " if you don't come pretty soon you'll miss your story, and the fire will be out. And what under the sun are you playing at anyway .' " " Pirates," screamed Billy, whose face and hands, were fearfully and wonderfully decorated with blackberry juice. 'Don't you see, we're pirates, and that boat is the British man-of-war ?"

" It's the first time I ever saw a British warship fly the stars and stripes," said Uncle George, but no one heard him.

The crucial moment had come. The pirates boarded the Prince of Wales, put the entire crew to deah with wooden swords, captured the men-at-arms, and sank the brave craft in six inch< s of water. That done the exultant victors wash their faces, and s on pirates, prisoners and all had arranged a peace, and were sitting around the fire as quiet as mice.

" Once upon a time," began Uncle George, in good oldfashioned way of beginning a story, " three savage-looking pirate ships were cruising around the Gulf of Lyons, lying in wait for whatever prey might chance to come in their way. They had plenty of sail spread, but not enough to keep them flying as deftly as they would, for the day was calm. What was this power which kept them darting from point to point of unseen commanders ? Ah, it was the steady strokes of a large number of rowers, each one of whom was a Christian prisoner. There they sat, their arms rising and falling together, chained to their places.

" And now a pretty little coasting vessel appeared, her white Bails looking like the wings of a dove, and her captain peacefully giving his orders, and gazing at the beautiful French coast, where the quiet homes and lofty churches clustered in the soft sunshine. And all at once there came swooping down upon that innocent vessel the corsairs, armed to the teeth. There could be but one ending to so ill-balanced a contest. When the smoke cleared away, part of the crew of the coaster lay dead ; and the rest of them, the passengers as well, were the captives of the African brigantines. There was one exception — the poor captain, who had not surrendered, but had dared to resist the pirates, was put to death upon the spot. " Among the passengers was a young priest, who was returning home from a French seaport, whither he had gone to collect a small legacy left him by a distant relative. He had been educated at much sacrifice by his good father, who, it is said, sold the horses from the plough in order that his son might follow the career for which he longed. And now the young priest, after all those years of struggling and self-denial, lay in the hold of a pirate ship, wounded and in chains.

"The corsairs made all haste to run into a safe harbour with their ill-gotten freight ; and the prisoners were offered for sale in the slave market, much as if they had been cattle. They were obliged to wear a coarse robe of blue and white, which was the badge of slavery, and to hear themselves discussed by the ignorant and savage hordes who nocked to see the new band ot Christians. Our young priest was bought by a fisherman He brought but a small price, as he looked very ill and delicate, but even at that his master considered him a bad bargain, for he grew Baa-sick as quickly as our Angus does whenever hisbo.it ro -ks a little, and was of no use upon the water "

'' I pity him," broke m Angus, •' if he was the sort of sailor that I am.'

" Pretty soon,"' went on L'ncle (ieor<j;e. " he became the property of one of those old fellows who were trying to learn how to make gold out of stone and diamonds out of charcoal — a sort of astrologer, but a very learned man. He saw at once that he bad a treasure in his young intelligent slave and grew very fond ot him. Finally he offered him his liberty and the prospect of inheriting his wealth, but there was a condition attached — the Christian must become a Mahommedivn. This was a temptation, but with it came the grace to resist it. and the captive priest bravely said. ' Nay.' " When the old physician died the priest — I am not quite ready yet to tell you his name — became the property af a Frenchman, who had also been captured, and who had, unlike our hero, been unable to hold out when freedom was offered him, but was now a Mahommedan with three wives. It was the slave's duty to work in the field under a sun whose rays were almost unbearable, but he never once lost hope or faith. ''Sometimes the wives of his renegade master would go to him after his work was done and ask him concerning his religion, which they had come to admire by witnessing how patiently he bore his Bufferings : and one of them became so impressed by his answers that she won her husband back from his false religion to the belief he had renounced. A poor Turkish woman, ignorant and untaught. did this.

" After the master took this step in private he wished for only one thing — to go home ; partly, no doubt, because he realised his sin, partly because the face of his, slave recalled to him the friends of hi 8 youth, and for the reason that if he were known to have forsaken the faith of Mahomet he would be walled up alive — a favourite way the Moors had of disposing of such cases. " So one night master and slave lied together in a little boat back to sunny France, which was their native land. They reached it safely, and we can easily believe in the renegade's penitence from the fact that he at once, after greeting his people, entered a brotherhood at Rome, and spent the rest of his life in tending the sick in hospitals. " Although I have taken some time in telling you this it is but one incident in the good priest's eventful life. I must mention one more adventure — if it can be called that— and then our worthy daughter will sound ' taps.' '•The young priest, through the influence of a nobleman whose sons he taught, w s appointed chaplain to the prison ships which

lie in the French harbours ; and there became so interested in one of the prisoners that he actually changed clothes with him, letting him escape, and taking his place for some time without detection. A number of innocent men were then undergoing a cruel imprisonment, and no doubt this was one of them. Father de Paul — there, 1 have told you who he was ! — was released, but he bore the scars made by the chains to his dying day. He is known to us as St Vincent de Paul." — Are Maria.