es was told
from mouth to mouth, the sufferings of the Christian captives were
described in burning words in the House of Commons, and soon the news
reached the proud Citadel of the Sea that Lord Exmouth was once more
upon his way.

It must have been anxious work for the European consuls in Algiers,
knowing that the tyrant, driven to bay, was likely enough to vent his
wrath upon those in his power. The English Consul was a married man,
with children too to consider, and he determined, if possible, to get
his wife and little ones out of the evil place before harm befell them.
An English vessel, the _Prometheus_, was in the harbour, and, though the
Dey had forbidden the Consul and his family to leave the city, the
Captain of the _Prometheus_ had a scheme for conveying them safely on
board. He himself landed on the pretext of conferring with the Dey, and,
when he returned to his ship, the Consul's wife and little daughter,
disguised as sailors, left the city under his charge. But there was
another member of the family who was less easily disposed of, namely,
the baby, a very unlikely passenger for a man-of-war's boat, and
certain to be detected by the Moorish guard, who watched the crew
re-embark.

With many misgivings and in grievous anxiety, the Consul's wife had been
induced to leave the little one behind her, the Captain assuring her
that he would be on shore again on the following day, and that he had
concocted a plan for bringing the baby back with him.

So the boat of the _Prometheus_ put in again on the morrow, watched,
doubtless, with eager eyes by the anxious mother and daughter on board
the vessel. The little one was drugged into a heavy sleep, and laid at
the bottom of a big basket, with vegetables skilfully piled above him.
One of the British sailors took the precious burden, and the Consul
strolled in front of it towards the harbour. There was nothing
remarkable in the sailors wishing for a few fresh vegetables to vary the
ship's fare, or in the English Consul seeing his countrymen to their
boat. But the Moorish guard had grown suspicious, as men are likely to
do who know that their lives will certainly pay for any lack of
vigilance. And so the sharp eyes that watched the English tars preparing
to embark noticed some rather unusual movements amongst the cabbages
that were being carried so carefully; and when a dismal howl arose from
under the green stuff and a little arm disturbed the vegetables,
concealm